Digimon: Devil's Ascent (RPG Thread)

[Hotshot]

Preparations for the wedding went underway almost immediately after the Peacemakers' meeting. It wasn't going to be a very large event, the only attendees being those present during the announcement, a few of Ivy's friends (to which Gunnar was more than likely very excited), and some acquaintances of Gigas' who weren't considered Peacemakers (most notably Dhazbog, Sigurd, and Ulik).

And finally, the big day came ('big' most likely referring to Gigas). The ceremony took place within a large garden, with blossoming trees surrounding them on all sides. Ivy had selected the place, and Gigas had whole-heartedly agreed to it.

As the wedding progressed, several of those attending had trouble sitting still. Nocchi, the groom's best man, in particular. This was all so strange to him. Standing there, watching his best friend (who happens to be the biggest insect he's ever known) get married to a Lilymon of all things (and one with whom he can never seem to get along).

Sha, on the other hand, became more and more emotional throughout the ceremony. He had used up several dozen tissues already (imagine how many he would have used had he been Leviamon at the time).

As promised, Michael provided Gigas and Ivy with a Host priest to preside over the ceremony, and all went well. The only problem was that Gigas' wedding ring had been just a tad too small, so he was forced to slip it onto one of the smaller fingers on his lower left hand. Even though it was small, it was still a wonder as to where Ivy obtained a ring of that size.

Finally, the climax of the wedding had been reached, and both Gigas and Ivy said, "I do." (Though Gigas' was more like, "I-I...I d-do...I do! I do!")

And, just like that, they were wed.

===============

As the attendees of the wedding dispersed to eat cake, drink (in you-know-who's case), chat, or just hang out, Sha began prancing around, singing and dancing like he was in a Bollywood movie. Nocchi sat on the buffet table, distributing plates to those who wished to eat. As they passed him, he would often make snide remarks like, "Ya know, ya might wanna go look in the mirror before even thinkin' about food."

As expected, one could find Gigas near the wedding cake (most likely eating half of it), with Ivy at his side, wiping the icing from her husband's horn between gulps.

[Tundra_Wolfmane]

Outside of the council room, Galic looked around; making sure that no one was near enough to eavesdrop on them. His hearing, though handicapped, was enough to signal him if anyone was approaching. He nodded to himself, satisfied that no one other than the angels, fallen and saint, in front of him were his only audience.

He started off by looking straight at Samael, a serious and knowing look in his eye. “The first thing that I want to know is whether you already know what I’m going to say, or at least the essence of it.”

He remained expressionless at the demon man’s reply. At the end, however, he sighed, turning to Michael. He gave his best mediator face and started to speak.

“If I may humbly ask, Saint Michael, I plead of you to keep your peace until I finish speaking, even if you think that I am, as Shoon would say, completely out of my head crazy. You know that I’m a rational mon, and I am not proposing this lightly. I have thought this through, and while there are still…variables I am not aware of, what I have come to know has allowed some leeway for possible advantages and opportunities to take advantage of. What I have to tell you…for lack of better words, will certainly not please you, and may incur your wrath upon me and someone else explicitly involved, but it might possibly be in our best interests if you decide to look over and reconsider what I, or rather, he is might be offering.”

Galic prepared himself for what he was going to say, ready to move and dodge or placate and appease at any given moment. He just hoped that Cresil was smart enough not to do anything until he gets his part done. With a lame arm and one unusable ear, he wouldn’t be able to do much against an angel who’s trying to get rid of what said angel believes to be the bane of the world.

“I apologize for not telling you this sooner, but…for the past few months - since the middle of the war that brought us together, actually – the nomads have been sheltering (though I use that word very loosely in this case) what you would call a demon,” Galic admitted, glancing at Samael before turning back to the angel in front of him. He tried his best to keep a straight face at Michael’s reaction, and then spoke once more.

“He’s…peculiar. From what I’ve seen and observed, he’s not really the evil. Or if he is, he’s very good at hiding it from me. He’s arrogant, insufferable, impish, conniving and likes to play mind games, as well as pushing anyone’s buttons when he can. And while it may be true that he doesn’t really pay mind to others’ lives, he’s not really the kind of evil that threatens to kill thousands upon thousands just because he feels like it, not even for his own amusement,” the MachGaogamon enumerated, using a tone that told of believed facts rather than one of ill-will. He then shook his head.

“Of course, his amusement seems to be a large thing for him. When he’s bored, he’s dangerous. While he’ll not kill, he’ll try to get a reaction to keep him busy,” he said, unpleasantness on his face and in his voice. “The reason why he chose to stay within the nomad group was to keep himself entertained, and that was what made him stay relatively inactive during the Unholy Crusade, particularly because of Dunkelheit’s participation.”

Galic sighed and pressed his able hand to his forehead. “In fact, to keep himself amused may very well be his motive for…asking me to let him be a part of the mission you have entailed on us.”

The nomad then looked at Michael, seriousness in his eyes. “And as hard as this may be to believe, this might be something useful. He has only escaped Hell a few months ago, and he unlike Samael, he’s had to live for many years,” he said, looking at the demon man. “He may know things that may come of use to us. You may have your standards and beliefs, Saint Michael, but I request that you do not turn a blind to an advantageous position.”

Many meters away, Cresil watched. He remained hidden to the three that he observed, his skills and abilities long practiced in Hell still polished and sharp. It proved to him that if ever the demons that he himself had to deal with came out, then they would have a lot more than a hard time, and that itself was an understatement.

Oh well, at least he wasn’t going to be bored anytime soon.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Yes... I'm Pyra Torren. It's nice to meet you, Aeria," Pyra greeted, suddenly taking Aeria’s hand and shaking it. Aeria took back her hand when she was done as soon as possible, trying not to pay attention to the warmth. It had been a long time since she’s had any physical contact with anyone, let alone from someone friendly…

"...I hope you don't mind me asking, but what brings you here, Aeria? You don't seem to know anybody here, so you must have your reasons for coming, but..."

Aeria blinked, opening her mouth, and then closing it. She didn’t really know what to say. Would it be in distaste if she said she was doing it because else someone else couldn’t? From the looks of it, the WarGreymon was even having a difficult time speaking up, so it might have been a wonder as to why she was there in the first place.

"I apologize," the Paildramon in front of her suddenly said, seemingly noticing her inability to speak. "It's none of my business, really. At any rate, you're a welcome addition to the team and we... well, most of us... will try to make you and the other newcomers feel at home."

Aeria nodded, trying to smile back. “Thank you,” she whispered softly. “I…I just hope that I won’t bring anyone down,” she added, looking away, watching as the people started to leave, most likely in preparation for Gigas and Ivy’s wedding.

Aeria bit her bottom lip. She didn’t know if she wanted to be there, invited or otherwise.

[Griff4815]

Aeria nodded, trying to smile back. “Thank you,” she whispered softly. “I… I just hope that I won’t bring anyone down.”

Pyra smiled reassuringly. "When we were trying to stop the Royal Knights, I had that same problem. Don't worry; I'm sure you won't do anything but help us."

She looked towards the direction of the ceremony, which was being prepared. "Well, this should be interesting..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wedding service went smoothely with the exception of Khep raising his hand when the guests were asked if anybody objected to the marriage. He was quickly elbowed in the side by Pyra. ...And then when Gigas and Ivy kissed after the "I do's", Kheprius made a crack about Gigas eating his now-wife. Pyra promptly stuffed a fruit in his mouth.

The reception had now begun and mostly everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. Barachiel remained vigilant through the service and was now offering the bride and groom his well wishes. "May you both behold a bright future," he said, bowing formally before walking away.

As he did, he cast a disdainful glance to his brother, who was guzzling down the "refreshments" nearby. "I must talk with him soon... unfortunately," he thought.

Barachiel made his way towards Michael, who seemed impatient, though the TigerVespamon couldn't blame him. He stopped in front of him and bowed formally. "Saint Michael Ha'Yisrael... Would you please do me the pleasure of humouring a question of mine?"

He looked up at Michael upon hearing his response. "...Please forgive me if I am out of line, and I realize you know him well, but Samael... is it wise to bring him on this mission? I realize he knows important information about the demons and that he has shown his worth among the Peacemakers, but..." Barachiel paused, hoping that he wasn't doing anything to offend the high-ranking angel. "...Well, we are going up against demons... in the worst scenario, even the Demon Lords; God have mercy on us..."

Barachiel sighed. "I suppose the point I am trying to make is treachery is in the heart of every demon... it all comes down to what is in it for that individual demon. Samael has betrayed a friendly party thrice over... the Holy Host, the demons, and the Royal Knights when apparently gathering information to use against them. Whatever his goals are... we must humour that there is a chance he could fall a second time..."

The TigerVespamon looked in Kheprius' direction. "...And he may not be the only one."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Khep downed his fifth "refreshment" and was now feeling very "refreshed"... so "refreshed" that he was having trouble walking in a straight line.

The GrandisKuwagamon staggered over in the direction of the groom and placed his hand on the large, half-eaten cake to lean against it. "Gigasss! My bug!" he greeted, staggering forwards to try to give him a high-five, unknown to Gigas, but instead palmed the large bug in the face. "...Too slow," he slurred.

"Y'know... you really are a good pal, pal... really," he said, walking to the HerculesKabuterimon's side and patting him on the back. "And now yer married... well goo'fer you! I always knew you could do it!"

He then started walking away from him, but turned around and pointed at him. "You're a good friend, Gig," he said drunkenly. "...But don' tell anyone 'bout tha' time we hugged during the Siege. ...Dughay onday ixnay... something or other..."

He promptly spun around and began walking away. "Hey! Where's that Thor guy? He needs like five beers, right now!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gunnar leaned near the refreshments and hors d'œuvre tables, chatting it up (to nobody's surprise) with one of Ivy's friends, a Lilamon. The ShineGreymon was having no problem making his exploits known.

"Yeap!" Gunnar said, placing his hands behind his head in a relaxed fashion. "I'm officially a Peacemaker now. It's pretty awesome, to be honest."

"Did they just call upon you?" the Lilamon asked.

"Well, sorta... I'm here replacing somebody else, but I was like at the top of the list, y'see," he responded, grinning slyly as he let off an aura of shining blue particles from his wings, hoping to add to his appearance.

"Who are you replacing?" she questioned.

Gunnar folded his arms. "My best pal Tyr," he explained. "Yeah, not only am I a Peacemaker, but my best friend is too. How awesome is that?" Gunnar proceeded to move in closer to her.

"Which one's Tyr again?" she asked, seeming not to notice his advances.

"The VictoryGreymon, but look--"

"Oh!" she squealed excitedly. "He's adorable! He's so charming and sensitive and hot! Look at that toned body! I heard he's such a sweet guy! His personality is just..."

Gunnar's eye twitched as his interest started to ramble on and on about Tyr. "I... I'm awesome too!" he said indignantly. She didn't hear him.

The ShineGreymon's body drooped and he turned around to huffily pour himself a glass of punch.

"Scorch," a voice said from beside him. Gunnar looked to his side, upon feeling something on him, and saw Sigurd having pushed past his wing from behind him and was looking at him over his shoulder with a smug grin plastered all over the WarGreymon's face.

"You're just jealous," muttered Gunnar, pushing Sigurd to make him cease leaning on his back and shoulder.

"Oh yeah," Sigurd laughed. "I cry every night at the thought of not being able to be turned down by girls in favour of Tyr!"

Gunnar splashed his glass of punch in Sig's face. "I meant you're jealous that they picked both me and Tyr over you to be on the Peacemakers, genius."

Sigurd growled. "What a load! They only picked you because you have that Burst Mode form! Even though I could beat you in that form while blindfolded and my hands tied, they chose you because having a mode change looks good on paper!"

"Wanna bet?" Gunnar asked with a sly smirk.

"Anytime!" Sigurd snapped.

"Great! I'll get the rope, then!" the ShineGreymon said.

The two Greymon cringed and tensed up upon feeling a sharp pain in their necks. They looked to the side and saw an EmperorGreymon staring at them with their necks in his hold.

"Not right now, guys," Dhazbog said, glaring at them. "This is a wedding."

"Whatever you say, First Sergeant," Sigurd responded rebelliously.

Dhazbog sighed and shook his head. "When are you going to grow up, Sig?"

"Just as soon as you shut up, Dhaz," he responded.

"Sigurd, enough," Ulik said, the BlackWarGreymon appearing from behind Dhazbog.

Gunnar looked at Ulik and blinked. "...Is that lipstick on your cheek, Ulik?"

The black dragonman blushed and averted his gaze, trying to strategically shift his face so that the lipstick print was out of view. "No no..."

Dhazbog grinned. "One of Ivy's friends took a liking to him."

"...Why is it never me?!" Gunnar whined.

"Where to begin?" Sigurd said with a smirk.

"Sigurd," a female voice called out, catching the groups attention.

The WarGreymon in question turned around and saw a familar Paildramon walking towards him. "Oh, hey, Pyra," he said, giving her a nod.

"Nice to see you all here," she replied, returning the nod to them.

"What's up?" Sigurd asked.

"I was overseeing a drinking competition between Kheprius and Samael to make sure it didn't get out of control... but I figured that that would be like asking a Whamon not to swim."

Dhazbog stepped forwards. "Ulik and I'll be able to handle them if they get too out of control,"

"What about us?" Gunnar asked, motioning to himself and Sigurd.

"You two always make things worse," the EmperorGreymon replied, sighing.

Gunnar shrugged and then turned to the female Paildramon. "...Are you single, Pyra?" the ShineGreymon asked, grinning. "I'm hoping to debunk the rumour that you and Sig are secretly a couple."

"What?" Pyra asked in surprise.

"What rumour?!" Sigurd barked, equally shocked.

"You're blushing, Sigurd," Dhazbog said, highly amused.

"Go to hell!" he snapped, turning away.

The Paildramon sighed. "Sigurd and I are just friends, Gunnar."

"Great!" Gunnar exclaimed, walking towards her. "There's an awesome restaurant I know in downtown Anatolia, maybe you and I can--"

"She has a boyfriend, idiot," Sigurd said.

"It's true," Ulik agreed, nodding.

Gunnar took a step back and swore under his breath. "Of course... Who?"

"Azur the WereGarurumon, one of the Peacemakers, I believe," Dhazbog said, the EmperorGreymon looking at Pyra for confirmation.

Pyra nodded. "That's right..."

"Where is he, anyways?" Gunnar said, looking around.

"He's still off... somewhere..." Pyra explained. "I know he was headed to a dojo, but I'm not sure why or for how long. I last saw him when that Shoon guy came across us... the trip back was... nightmarish."

"Shoe's the bowling ball with eyes, right?" Gunnar asked.

"It's 'Shoon' but yes, more or less," Pyra answered.

"'Shoe'; that's what I said," the ShineGreymon responded, convinced of his pronounciation.

"...Anyways, have any of you heard from Tyr?" Pyra asked.

The four Greymon solemnly shook their heads. "I hope he's alright..." Dhazbog said.

"He'll be fine!" Gunnar said adamantly. "He's got Tiwaz the Valiant with him!"

"From what I hear, that's not exactly a good thing..." Sigurd muttered.

"As long as he's safe," Ulik said.

Suddenly, a female Lekismon wrapped her arms around Ulik's neck from behind. "So that's where you went!" she said playfully.

The BlackWarGreymon's face flushed and he looked at Gunnar pleadingly. Gunnar, realizing his cue to start flirting with her, smirked and strutted over to them. "You know, sweetheart... I could benchpress two Mammothmons if I wanted to..."

[storymasterb]

Bedivere regarded Michael with stunned surprise in the wake of the archangel's outburst at Gigas. Never once had he seen the angel so incensed, perhaps there had been times in battle, but then the knight would likely have been distracted by the strain of facing his foes.

Michael seemed to catch himself with Thor's help, apologizing and even offering the services of a priest, possibly out of a desire to redeem himself. As the others seemed to lose attention, devoting themselves to other matters, Bedivere moved swiftly to the MagnaAngemon's side.

"Don't attack them, Michael," he said with a firm tone. "I don't understand your desire to stop this threat... but venting your frustration at your comrades isn't the way to deal with it. Let them have a moment, one golden instant they can treasure... for all we know, it could be their last. Let them have that... Mephistopheles will be dealt with, the instant we know his location, we will attack and stop him. We defeated the Mikaboshi... he won't stand any chance, not against the sort of force we can bring against him..."

-

Time passed, culminating eventually in the wedding.

Perhaps only one Peacemaker chose to be absent from the occasion, Vritra. She stood atop the highest pinnacle of Anatolia, a burning glow lighting her form as she glared out towards the horizon with her crimson eyes. Her wings were fully spread, giving her the visage of some burning gargoyle atop the pinnacle. She glanced at the festivities, and a growl of frustration escaped her throat, a spark of anger lighting in her eyes.

There was something out there, something willing to shatter the chains of the seven kings and unleash the Apocalypse itself, yet here they were, celebrating, joking, enjoying themselves when they should have been at work, trying to find and defeat Mephistopheles. Michael had been right, this was no time for celebration!

But he had backed down and left no voice to protest. They wouldn't listen to her, already she saw the mistrust in their eyes. Well, let them have their opinions. Let them have doubts. All she cared for was the end of Mephistopheles, the end of this oncoming storm. Once that was done, she need never consort with these foolish 'heroes' again. Their voices clamored for peace and understanding, holding off the blows that were necessary, holding back the inevitable war.

But then no-one understood. These lords, these gods, angels and heroes... they could never see it. Not even Bedivere Stormheart... oh, how the emptiness of his ideals made her scoff and detest him. He spoke of nobility and chivalry among the burning fields of war, when she knew the cold reality... in War, there was nothing but War itself. To the soldier standing upon that bloodied field, what was there but War? A protector, a deity, a faith. War was all that soldier had.

And they would come to understand that. When all they knew was torn from them... then they would understand the truth, that there was no eternal peace. All life was struggle, and all struggle would only brew war. In the end... everything, this decency they sought to preserve... it would just burn. Everything wanted to survive. They would cast aside every shred of this 'code', this 'chivalry' to live.

So inevitably... they would see the cruelty of this sundered earth. They would embrace the truth, that they were fools dreaming of decency in an indecent world. They would embrace that deity, that faith, and through it they would shatter Mephistopheles and end his apocalyptic ideals...

-

Bedivere, Caradoc and Guinier stood stoically, witnessing the wedding in solemn silence. When the ceremony ended, each stepped forth in turn to the newly-wed couple.

"I wish you luck," Bedivere began. "And I hope your lives together are happy ones, both of you. If you ever need me... don't hesitate to call. I'll come as fast as I can to help." He stepped aside to allow Caradoc and Guinier to give their own blessings.

"Gigas... you have a good heart," Caradoc murmured softly, drawing his words from Sir Galahad, the knight's emotions regarding the couple inspiring his blessings. "I know that you will live long and well with Ivy. And Ivy..." he smiled, "I know you'll make him happy. We don't know each other well, but if you can get along with Gigas, Sha and Nocchi... then I'm sure I can rely on you in what's coming." Guinier subtly elbowed him aside and stepped forwards.

"Live long and happily," she said simply, before taking Caradoc aside. "Don't remind them of Mephistopheles. They don't need that now." He gave a soft nod of agreement and apology.

"Sooner or later... we'll have to face that reality," he murmured. "He's out there, somewhere... stirring up chaos to break more seals... and we can't do a thing..." He clenched a fist. "I want to stop him, before anyone has to suffer. With the Knights, with the Mikaboshi... we could fight them. We could take them on in open battle, contain them. But Mephistopheles could be doing almost anything... setting up some plan to kill hundreds... and we can't do a thing..."

-

The white-clad thunder god was there, standing stoically, of course, White Sword nowhere in sight. The blade didn't fit a wedding.

"Thor," Bedivere acknowledged with a nod to his counterpart. Even without the Black Sword, he still felt he was Thor's opposite in many ways... a mortal opposite a god, a knight opposite a king, the potential of a mortal against the power of a god. But funnily enough, it was a god he now came to Thor to discuss.

"The BurningGreymon, Vritra," he said. "I saw how you looked at her before... is there something significant? It's just that there is the legend... how Indra fought and slew Vritra... is there more to her than just a shared name? There's something deeper... when I look at her, I feel something... not the sort of energy I feel from you, or another god. It's like..." he struggled to find a way to describe the comparison, "it's like the difference between a sunset, and a portrait of a sunset... all the details are still there, but muted... suppressed. She has power... divine power of a sort... but it's like it's buried... chained. What is she?"

[Kamotz]

Michael regarded Bedivere with a silent glare. "You're right, Lord of the Empty Seat," he said stiffly. "You don't understand." He turned and followed Galic into the empty hallways.

“The first thing that I want to know is whether you already know what I’m going to say, or at least the essence of it.”

"What, that I'm not the only monster you know?" Samael asked with a laugh. "Though I'm the only one that can pull off the leather look. I could never manage in that stuffy blue suit."

"What is he talking about, Galic?" Michael asked warily. He listened tensely as Galic explained his and Cresil's situation. He grit his teeth in frustration; Galic didn't understand, he couldn't understand how dangerous these creatures were...or did he. Michael realized with sickening dread that he couldn't see Galic's eyes behind his visor.

"You almost had me," he hissed. "I was almost convinced you were Galic. But you should have known better than to trifle with the Hand of God!" Michael sprang forward, grabbing Galic by his throat and slamming into the nearest wall.

"Woah! Mikey!"

With a wave of his hand, Michael sent Samael flying through the air and back into the Council's chambers with the door slamming shut after him. Michael placed the same mighty hand over Galic's face.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas," he chanted, his hands glowing white with holy power.

"Michael, get off me," Galic choked out, struggling against the archangel's grip.

But Michael didn't relent. "Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica," he continued. But Galic did not react as he expected. There was no writhing, no spewing of black demonic smoke from his mouth. He stopped and released the blue beast man from his grip. "I'm sorry, I thought you might--"

A cry from the shadows caught his attention as Cresil fell from his hiding. The demon man hadn't been the focus of the exorcism, but his proximity and hearing the banishing words had wracked him with holy force.

Michael wheeled about, Excalibur drawn and burning blue. He struck towards the quickly-recovering demon, the words of another exorcism were already on his lips.

"Mikey, shut your trap!" Samael shouted, bursting back through the doors and grabbing the archangel. "Get a hold of yourself, buddy. Didn't you listen to a think Ol' Blue was saying?"

"This creature is an abomination," Michael seethed, struggling against Samael. "He is a blight against God! He must be destroyed."

"That's what they say about me," Samael hissed.

"Off me!" Michael shouted, burning with holy light; he forced Samael to relinquish his hold. Then he turned back to Cresil and shot forward again.

He suddenly found himself pinned to the ground once more, only this time, he was unable to break free. The hold was too strong, and his holy powers only served to elicit hisses of annoyance instead of cries of pain.

"Michael, control yourself," Thor growled. He picked up the archangel and pushed him against the same wall he had pinned Galic to.

"Release me, Odinson," Michael seethed.

"Only once I am sure you are in control of your actions again," Thor said. "There is wisdom in Galic's words, as always. This demon might provide us with the edge we need."

"He will destroy us!"

"Unlikely," Thor said dismissively. "I doubt he has the power."

"He is a monster! He is the enemy!"

"Did many of us Peacemakers not feel the same way about Samael?" Thor asked, glancing to the fallen angel. "We were sure of his dark intent."

"He will betray us at the first opportunity," Michael growled.

"Like Samael did?" Thor asked with a smirk. "This demon has been freed for months and under Galic's watch. If he were making moves against us, Galic would surely know."

"Galic is deaf and lame!" Michael shouted angrily. But his face quickly fell in shame. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. All the same, Galic cannot know the demon's every action. He cannot account for every minute."

"This might be the best chance we have," Samael said, rolling to his feet. "Face it, Mikey, we've got no freakin' clue where Ol' Scratch is gonna strike next. There's 580 seals left, he can be anywhere. Maybe the Suit can help us out."

"He is a monster," Michael insisted. But the fight had left him. "Fine."

Thor released the archangel, though he remained ready in case Michael was playing at a ruse. But Michael stayed detached. He fixed Cresil with a burning glare, but made no more moves to attack.

"See," Samael said with a smirk. "We can all get along."

"Perhaps we should establish some ground rules for the demon," Thor suggested, hoping that such rules would serve to eliminate further outbursts.

"No, he's a demon," Michael said. "He'd simply find a way around them. There's no point. Know this though, demon. I will tolerate you to an extent. The moment you become more trouble than you're worth, I will turn you to dust." Michael turned and walked away, but stopped beside Galic. "And know this, my friend," he said to the beast man. "Should your demon betray us, it is on your head; I will come down upon you with the entire weight of Heaven and smite you where you stand."

"Well, that's settled then," Samael smirked. "The Suit here won't act up and Mikey won't kill everyone. Now let's get to that wedding."

==========

Wallachia...

The castle of Count Vlad Tepes Dracula jutted into the black sky. The cold, iron-grey stone cut into the bare mountain face. Snow dotted the spires and towers. The mountain was covered by a perpetual darkness. Blizzards and thick clouds blotted out the sun, leaving the castle shrouded.

Mephistopheles and his three conscripted soldiers walked up the steep set of stairs towards the great stone doors. Lucian and Damien wrenched the doors open and bowed as Mephistopheles walked through. Together with Marcus, they followed their dark lord into the vampire's den.

"It's quiet," Marcus muttered as he followed along. "Too quiet."

"He's expecting me," Mephistopheles said with a sneer. "It's been ten years after all. Ten years to the day. It's time for me to come collect on the deal we made."

"Indeed," said a voice from the shadows. "I've been waiting for you, Mephistopheles."

"Ah, the great Count," Mephistopheles said with a laugh. "It's been too long."

"Not long enough," Dracula said with a snarl. He motioned to Lucian. "I see you brought your new hellhound with you. Looking to collect my soul?"

"That was the condition of our deal," Mephistopheles said. "I gave you power beyond your wildest dreams. I transformed you from a pitiful, sickly human Tamer to a Digimon of immense power and influence. And I gave you ten years to enjoy it."

"You killed my partner," Dracula said. But the sneer he wore showed how little the death of his partner bothered him.

"The Dracmon?" Mephistopheles asked with a chuckle. "Well, I needed some digital data to complete the process. You were suffering from debilitating diseases: anemia, porphyria...I gave you a way around these things. In return you promised me your soul."

"I knew this day would come. And I've been ready for it," Dracula sneered. "You brought your hounds...well, meet mine." Dracula snapped his fingers and a trio of snarling Sangloupmon emerged from behind Dracula's throne. "You have your soldiers, and I have mine." A pair of Matadormon emerged next.

"So you're going to fight me?" Mephistopheles laughed. "Do you really think you can win?"

"I'm not fighting you," Dracula hissed. "Crimson Lightning!" The vampire lord's burning whip slammed into the wall, sparking a chain reaction. A cascade of red energy flooded over the walls, ceiling, and floor, revealing a series of Devil's Traps decorating the room.

"Clever," Mephistopheles mused. He looked to his three conscripted soldiers. "Take them."

Lucian, Damien, and Marcus leaped forward to engage Dracula's minions. The three Sangloupmon tore at Lucian while Marcus battled the two Matadormon. This left Damien to confront the undead king himself. The battle was furious, Mephistopheles's soldiers and Dracula's followers sliced at one another.

"As amusing as this is, I simply don't have the time," Mephistopheles mused. He raised a glowing hand and poured his magics against the binding power of Dracula's traps. His power struggled to overcome the binding magic, but the Devil's Traps proved too powerful. "Damien, take care of this."

The SkullMeramon lashed out with his fiery chains and looped them around Dracula even as Dracula's crimson whips lashed around him as well. The two held each other in a stalemate. Dracula bared his pointed fangs and Damien growled behind his metal faceplate.

"Enough, Dracula," Mephistopheles snarled. "You've managed to impress me. Here I am! Trapped and at your mercy...except for my loyal soldiers at your throat. It seems, however, that you've defeated the terms of our deal...as I knew you would."

"What are you talking about?" Dracula demanded.

"Did you really think I would give you so much power and knowledge and expect you to not fight against the deal?" Mephistopheles laughed. "No. I came here knowing you would be prepared."

"You wanted to defeat our deal?" Dracula asked. He released Damien from his crimson whips, and Damien released him from the fiery chains. The other dueling Digimon also disengaged and stepped away from one another. "Why would you want this, the defeating of a demon's deal?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it almost sounds like one of the 66 Seals," Mephistopheles said with a sneer. "I wouldn't want to be breaking those, would I?"

"There are many who would go to all lengths to stop you," Dracula said. "You're playing a dangerous game."

"No more games," Mephistopheles said, still locked within the Devil's Trap. "I will break open the Inferno. And I knew you would help me towards it. So now I have a proposal: join me. Help me free the Morningstar. Our rewards will be endless."

"How do I know you won't simply try to collect my soul?" Dracula asked.

"Consider it a deal," Mephistopheles said, smirking. "Set me free from your traps and join my endeavor and I will consider your debt repaid. Do we have a deal?"

Dracula gripped the glowing band of lightning tightly, sending showers of scarlet sparks shivering down to the floor. He raised his whip and lashed it against the wall. Power flooded his chamber and the Devil's Trap deactivated.

"Deal."

==========

Avalon...

Grigor the Prairiemon continued to dig at the rubble that had once been his home. His long claws weren't made for this type of excavation and it was backbreaking work, but he worked anyway. This had been his home since he was a child; the Siege had destroyed it, and his brother was trapped inside. Grigor wiped away a stray tear and diligently got back to work.

"You should have saved me," an eerily familiar voice whispered. Grigor spun around, and his blood ran froze. Before him stood his brother, Sasha. The other Prairiemon sated at him with cold eyes. "Why didn't you save me?"

"I couldn't," Grigor choked out. "I--I couldn't. I--" Grigor was cut off as Sasha's claws tore through his gut.

"You should have," the ghost whispered. He then flickered and vanished.

==========

Anatolia...

Michael regarded Barachiel with a frown. He wondered where the insect got off speaking as if he understood the ways of angels and demons, but then made the connection between Barachiel's last name and the missionary Hadrael. Still...a convert to the faith could never understand the events that shaped him.

"Your opinion has been heard," Michael said stiffly. "But your opinion has not been asked for. Your suspicions of Samael and Kheprius speak poorly to your character. I thought an acolyte would know the value of forgiveness and trust. It is true that Samael has erred in the past, but until you know him as I do, I recommend you keep your opinions to yourself. As for Kheprius." He looked to the one-eyed bug. "You might want to ask yourself if a soul so impure would sacrifice his wellbeing as he did to save a comrade.

"You have much to learn, Barachiel," Michael said, shaking his head. "Even Lucifer did not rebel because he hated God. He rebelled out of love." Michael turned away. "My fool of a brother."

----

Thor looked to Bedivere and nodded. "There is divinity within her, but it has not been realized," he said. "Much as my own divinity was dormant until Svarog assisted me in releasing it." He turned his eyes back towards the sky, where he felt Vritra's fiery presence. Her fire reminded him of Svarog, both were beings of flame. But Svarog's fire had been honed to a blade's edge over two-thousand years of life and battle. Vritra's fire was young and ill-tempred.

"As to her relation to the legend," Thor said, "I do not believe it is my place to say."

[Tundra_Wolfmane]

Michael turned and walked away, but stopped beside Galic. "And know this, my friend," he said to the beast man. "Should your demon betray us, it is on your head; I will come down upon you with the entire weight of Heaven and smite you where you stand."

Galic didn’t even need the angel to tell him that. The moment Michael reacted, he already knew that whatever misfortune Cresil would do upon the Peacemakers, the punishment that Michael would judge upon the demon man would also be on the MachGaogamon himself. He had seen the way the MagnaAngemon’s eyes burned at him when he thought that he was possessed…and it was not something that he would have liked to see again. Ever.

Still, whatever consequence would happen, he would gladly receive it. Just as long as it was on him and on him alone. He would rather suffer the unfortunate fate than have it on the innocent nomads, who would have been Cresil’s victims were he to become bored (which had become increasingly often as of late). Sighing, he glanced at the Astamon.

Cresil popped the joint of his torso and rotated his limbs. He could still feel the ache, the feeling like his bones were being crushed, that his insides were getting burned, frozen, then burned alternately in piercing agony, and his whole body was being forced to contort into shapes and forms that he naturally wouldn’t be capable of. He definitely didn’t like the feeling…but despite that, he could feel a smile come up on his face.

‘Yes,’ he thought to himself. ‘I am definitely not going to be bored for a while.’ He glanced at Galic, reading the look in his eyes. The Astamon only gave him a mysterious grin, leaving the MachGaogamon to frown.

"See," Samael said with a smirk. "We can all get along."

Cres had to grin. Get along? He popped the joint of his neck, looking at the demon. “Very much so. This is going to be…fun.”

As soon as they mentioned the wedding, he gave them a mysterious look. “I’m afraid that I won’t be attending it...or if I am, you won’t be seeing me,” he added, a smile on his face. “But I’ll be around…trust me.” With that, he melted once more into the shadows, moving as if Michael hadn’t just tries to smite him into dust, as if the pain that wracked his body were inexistent.

He wouldn’t have survived being a demon in Hell if he was a stranger to excruciating pain.

---------------------------------------------------------

The wedding reception…or at least near it…

A distance away from Gigas and Ivy’s wedding reception, Aeria sat near a grass garden. While she wasn’t quite so far that no one would be able to see her, they at least wouldn’t have been able to recognize her. Or she hoped.

She bowed her head, looking at the small object in her hands that she unconsciously played with, looking it over, rubbing it, and holding it one hand and then the other. She bit her bottom lip, trying to not let the tears that threatened to fall down her face to escape. Her hand held onto the object tighter as she shut her eyes tight, unable to keep a tear from running down her face and splashing noiselessly on the blades of grass she sat upon.

“I’m so…sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes to shed away the tears before they could get any stronger in intensity. She took a deep breathe and let it out, hoping that it would help.

She needed to calm down. She needed to relax. And it was hard to do when all she did was just sit and think about it. She pocketed the object in her hand, making sure that it wouldn’t fall, and then she stood up. Whatever qualms she had about doing what she was going to do disappeared; it was the only thing in her mind that she knew would be able to slow her down enough before she would start bawling…even if it might not have the result that she would have wanted sometimes.

Her eyes closed, she took one step forward…and then another, letting an arm, nay, her whole body sway forward with it. And then she spun around once, her feet treading precisely and purposely. She let her arms move and sway, the breeze caressing and following her movements, around and over her body, taking advantage of the full range of motion that it was capable in slow, precise movements. Her legs rose and fell, gracefully and slowly, softly upon the grass. Her body moved without the awkwardness that she had previously shown, turning and moving with the beautiful elegance that her lithe body was capable of. She moved with the song that only she could hear, and she danced with the partner that only she could feel. And the tears trickled down her face through closed lids, unable to stop at the images she could see behind closed eyes, at the lack of the warmth that usually accompanied it. And she continued to dance to the melancholic song in her head stopped…even though when it did, her tears did not.

Sniffling, raised a hand to press against the side of her face, wishing that the touch belonged to someone else. Even though she knew that as much as she wished it, the wish would never come true.

She fell back on her knees, and then sat down back down on the grass, the trickling tears down her face.

“I miss you so much,” she whispered.

---------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile…

Shoon hid under one of the tables, voraciously eating at the food that he had ‘gathered’ from various tables. He rarely ever got to eat food that good, let alone savor it. He was usually running by the time he had finished half the portion of food he had ‘ordered’. He blinked when he began to hear a conversation behind him.

He looked from under the table to see two pairs of legs, belonging to two individuals that were talking. His eyes widened when he recognized the voices of said two individuals.

He kept himself from talking, pressing his hands against his mouth, listening eagerly to the conversation between Thor Odinson and Bedivere Stormheart. And what he was listening to made his mind go wild. Their conversation was very interesting indeed.

[Griff4815]

"Your opinion has been heard," Michael said stiffly. "But your opinion has not been asked for. Your suspicions of Samael and Kheprius speak poorly to your character. I thought an acolyte would know the value of forgiveness and trust. It is true that Samael has erred in the past, but until you know him as I do, I recommend you keep your opinions to yourself.

"...Understood, your holiness. You have my sincerest apologies," Barachiel calmly said, bowing his head as he took his licks. He then remembered inadvertantly overhearing the commotion that took place prior to the wedding. "...Did he not do the same to that demon the MachGaogamon knows?" he added mentally.

"As for Kheprius." Michael looked to the one-eyed bug. "You might want to ask yourself if a soul so impure would sacrifice his wellbeing as he did to save a comrade.

Barachiel looked up at him in surprise. To be honest, Barachiel wasn't aware of such an action taking place. While he doubted that the MagnaAngemon would lie about something like that, or anything at all, the TigerVespamon still found it hard to believe that his brother would do such a thing. ...And yet, in brighter days, Kheprius had saved Barachiel, himself, at least once.

"Be that as it may, your holiness..." Barachiel begun. "I do not believe that one selfless act can overwrite everything that he has done or will do, unless God deems otherwise," he said adamantly, looking at Kheprius discriminatingly. "You may call me foolish, and I may very well be wrong, but I believe that it is so."

"You have much to learn, Barachiel," Michael said, shaking his head. "Even Lucifer did not rebel because he hated God. He rebelled out of love." Michael turned away. "My fool of a brother."

Barachiel bowed his head as the MagnaAngemon turned around. "I will try my best to learn from you in order to better myself," he said respectfully. The TigerVespamon then turned around and walked away from him. He glanced to the side and saw Kherpius enjoying the festivities. Barachiel muttered, "Fool of a brother, indeed."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The intoxicated GrandisKuwagamon tossed his empty cup to the side and staggered through the garden where the wedding was being held. "Stupid Thor..." he said slurrily. "He never drinks at these things! He may be a God... er king... er whatever... but tha' doesn't mean he can't have a few and loosen up a bit! I mean honestly... that blue guy needs ta take the stick out already..."

Kheprius was trying to head towards the outer limits of the reception area. This was because he was feeling the urge to throw up coming and going. As he hobbled unevenly, Kheprius could feel a presence behind him. He promptly swung around and instinctively drove his fist towards the one that followed him.

A TigerVespamon stood behind him. Barachiel caught Kheprius' wrist, halting the strike before his brother's black knuckles connected with his face. Upon seeing who it was, Kheprius ceased the force that he put on his arm and allowed it to remain stationary.

"Kheprius..." Barachiel said firmly, releasing his wrist.

"Terrak," Kheprius said. "I've been wanting to talk to you."

"It's 'Barachiel Aker'," the golden bug calmly corrected.

"Oh, of course... You're an angel now or something!" Kheprius making an extravagant hand gesture to sarcastically add grandiose to the role.

Barachiel looked at him steadily. "...I may be an acolyte of Hadrael in his cathedral, but I am not technically part of the Holy Host."

"Well, good. 'Cuz the Holy Host seem like pricks..." The GrandisKuwagamon said, causing his brother's eyes to narrow. "...So why are you here, then? I assumed you felt too high and cavalier to ever associate yourself with me again."

"This isn't about you, Kheprius," Barachiel answered curtly. "Our world is in danger and if it means having to work alongside you in order to stop Mephistopheles, then I will do as I am commanded. I am a part of a special division in the Anatolian army, formally the Avalonian army. I was sent here under orders to join the Peacemakers."

"Well good for you," Kheprius scoffed. "Great to know you hate your brother that much."

"I don't 'hate' anybody, Kheprius," Barachiel answered, staring at him.

"Could have fooled me," the other bug muttered.

"Anyways, this isn't what I have come to talk to you about..." the TigerVespamon said hushedly, adjusting his red scarf to cover up something on his neck. "I believe we should keep our... 'ties'... a secret."

"Oh, I agree. I wouldn't want to besmirch your good name," Khep said with a roll of his eye.

Barachiel sighed. "That is not what I mean... If people found out that we were brothers, they would ask why our names were different and then many more questions would arise. No matter what we answer, things would just get uncomfortable for everyone, so I believe we should keep it private," he explained.

"Fine," Kheprius agreed. "I'll try... but I'm still not callin' you 'Barachiel', Terrak."

"Very well then..." he answered detachedly. "Though I would prefer if you didn't call me anything."

"Whatever you say, choir boy," Kheprius said dismissively. "Uhh... Unless you want that fancy scarf ruined, you might wanna steer clear. I might havta puke."

"...Duly noted," Barachiel answered, beginning to walk away from him.

He proceeded further towards the outer limits of the garden, but stopped upon seeing a figure on their knees in the grass. Barachiel silently walked towards them, hearing sniffling as he grew closer. Upon closer inspection, the figure was that of a female WarGreymon, who he recognized as Aeria. While he had never actually spoken to her, the TigerVespamon felt it was his duty to try and comfort the sobbing digimon.

He inadvertantly moved towards her from behind stealthily and kneeled down beside her. Barachiel placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "...Are you okay?" he managed to ask warmly through his cool voice.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pyra watched Gunnar, Sigurd and Dhazbog went drink-for-drink with each other while Ulik quickly poured them drinks from the keg and kept track of their drinking competition. She knew already that the end result wouldn't be pretty.

She glanced around, looking for some other of the newer Peacemakers that she may not have met yet. Pyra's eyes rested on the SuperStarmon who seemed to enjoy hanging around Duo and Lucia. She walked towards him and nodded to him.

"Hello, you're Justin, correct?" Pyra said to him as she outstretched her arm towards him. "It's nice to meet you; I'm Pyra Torren. ...How did you come to join the Peacemakers? Did Duo and Lucia invite you?" she asked curiously.

Meanwhile, Gunnar, Sigurd and Dhazbog were all struggling to properly connect the rims of their glasses with their mouths due to sheer drunkeness, but they still stubbornly continued.

"I... am going to beat you both, you looosers..." Gunnar said, looking to his left and playfully (yet clumsily) elbowing Sigurd beside him.

"You wanna fight?!" Sigurd growled, attempting to stand up, but stumbling to his left and collapsing on Dhazbog.

"You spilled my drink, jerk!" Dhazbog snarled, looking down at the WarGreymon collapsed on his lap.

"...Yeah? Well, you're my best friend, Dhazzy..." Sigurd slurred, wrapping his arms around the EmperorGreymon's waist. To this, the EmperorGreymon sighed.

"...What about me?" Gunnar whined, looking sadly down at his half-full mug. "...Nobody ever likes me."

"I like you, Gunnar," Sigurd said, giving him a thumbs up, though he wasn't looking, so it was pointed in the wrong direction. "But I don't like the things you say sometimes."

"I'm sorry..." he drunkenly replied.

"...You guys are drunk," Dhaz told them, drunkenly.

Ulik, who was overseeing the three's drinking challenge, had since dissociated himself from his friends out of embarrassment and was now somewhere over by the snack bar.

[Kamotz]

While the Gigas-Ivy wedding concluded without a further hitch. Michael, while frustrated and irritated, kept his cool. Even the usually-disruptive Samael kept his shenanigans in reserve, knowing that Michael could go off at any moment. It didn't stop him from drinking until he fell over, but he didn't cause much more trouble, and as the night wound down, he promptly passed out on a set of stairs.

Morning came with a burning glare and ripped the hung-over wedding-goers from their stupor. Samael hauled himself to his feet and made his way over to the still-assembled refreshments table. He scarfed down a few pieces of fruit, a cheese danish, and a few glasses of water. He growled low, still irritated by the rising sun.

"Good to see you're still among the living," Michael said, revealing himself to Samael. The archangel stood silhouetted against the dawn. "We were worried that you, Kheprius, and Tyr's comrades would kill yourselves before this all even started."

"We can't be so lucky," Samael growled. "Any word on your search for Ol' Scratch?"

"No," Michael said with a sigh. "We haven't--"

"Council! Council! I must speak with the Council!" A shout went up through the courtyard as a young Deputymon came running through.

"What's going on?" Michael asked.

"There's been a disaster!" the Deputymon exclaimed. "Digimon are being killed all over Avalon's reconstruction; they've been slashed and burned to death! But no one has seen the attackers!"

"Wake the Peacemakers," Michael said to Samael. "This warrants our attention. You, Deputymon, report this to the Council."

"You think it's a Seal?" Samael asked.

"I have my suspicions," Michael murmured. "When the Peacemakers are gathered, have them meet me in Avalon. I'm going on ahead. Do not delay."

=====

"Oy, Peacemakers!" Samael said, addressing the assembled cast. "Mikey went ahead to Avalon so he put me in charge of your sorry selves. First order of business: I want to congratulate Gigas for scoring such a bangin' chick. Now, I'm kinda wondering how the whole wedding night thing went...logistically speaking. Like...uh...how do you--"

"What Samael is trying to say is we must be going," Thor interrupted, fixing the fallen angel with a disapproving glare. He spread his great wings and took to the air.

"Yeah, what he said," Samael muttered. He let out a high-pitched whistle and the Behemoth roared into view. "To Avalon, you freakin' pansies."

=====

Avalon wastes...

Michael stood upon a large pile of rubble, his gaze burned over the cityscape from behind his helmet, demanding Mephistopheles to appear before him, or at least for the seal to reveal itself. But he had no such luck. As the Peacemakers arrived, Michael prepared himself for the eventual swath of questions that were sure to arrive.

"Split up," he said, not giving them a chance to assail him. "Look for anything out of the ordinary, signal if you find something."

[storymasterb]

Bedivere cast a glance out across the desolate ruins of Avalon from their position. The city had been razed by the Mikaboshi's rampage, he remembered all too well the fires, the destruction. He remembered how he had been slammed into the ruins by the monster's almighty attacks, by Dark Prominence, Bancho Blade, Ultima Burst, Broken Destroy and End of Paradox.

But now was not the time to dwell on those memories.

"Split up. Look for anything out of the ordinary, signal if you find something."

The Slayerdramon cast a glare at the MagnaAngemon, before regarding the other Peacemakers. "As Michael said, search and signal if you find anything." With that, he flew off into the ruins...

-

The Lord of the Empty Seat landed, and as he touched down a burst of fire howled from his hands, forming into the bronze length of his Fragarach sword, which he took in hand, glancing around cautiously at the silent expanse of the broken city.

Advancing with care and attention to his surroundings, the knight turned his thoughts inward somewhat, recalling Michael's words earlier.

"You're right, Lord of the Empty Seat. You don't understand."

The almost cynical tone in which those words were spoken had been unneeded, Bedivere had merely been trying to keep peace. They all needed level heads to achieve what was needed in this battle, they needed to be able to deal with Mephistopheles. Demons were tricky foes, good at manipulating friend and foe alike, and so the Peacemakers had to keep level heads.

"His wrath undoes the wicked," he whispered softly to himself, recalling the words of his oath, the oath he had sworn before the Council upon his formal ascension to the title of Lord of the Empty Seat, protector of the Digital World. "His blade defends the helpless, his might upholds the weak."

He continued his walk forwards, Fragarach at the ready...

-

Vritra did not miss the moment of friction between Bedivere and Michael, but paid it little mind. Their rivalries were none of her concern.

As she stalked the destroyed streets of Avalon, a burning heat haze surrounded her, the fiery god preparing herself for combat. There was something here, something dark, something wrong. The Rudri Tarpana on her arms rotated to ready position, beginning to glow with heat as her power flowed into them. Her head moved from side-to-side in quick flashes of motion, the BurningGreymon taking in her surroundings quickly, ready for any sudden attack as she advanced.

Plants under her feet which had sprouted from the ruins somehow blackened, withered and died under the intense heat she radiated, a crackling sound beginning to become audible, like that of a roaring flame.

She stopped dead, still turning her head rapidly to take in the ruins. It was too easy, too obvious! There must have been literally a hundred hiding places for ambushers along this street alone. The city was practically a death-trap, it reeked of death. But she wasn't afraid. Whatever fool dared attack her would burn.

"Why didn't you save me?" In a flash of motion she turned, taking in the Rapidmon stood before her. "Why did you let me die?!" Silence was her only answer, that and the crackling sound which became louder and louder as the heat haze shimmered more and more around her body.

"I had no part."

"Die!" The Digimon gave a feral howl and raised its rocket cannon arms, but Vritra brought her hands together with a roar of her own as her burning wings erupted outwards, a prominence of howling flame. In the space of her cupped talons, sparks ignited, a million at once, and fire burned.

"Pyro Barrage!" the fiery god roared in anger, pure and destructive fury. A howling burst of screaming flames erupted from her hands and consumed the Rapidmon, his form vanishing into the white-hot fires. Under Vritra's feet, the earth cracked and plants caught fire, the burning force of her fiery energies realized as a power to destroy all around her.

The flames fractured and she prepared to see only data in the wind, but what met her eyes brought shock to them, the sight of the unharmed Rapidmon, still held in the same pose.

"Rapid Fire!" he shouted, firing two rockets from his cannons. The projectiles screamed towards her, but Vritra beat forth her wings and arrows of fire ripped from them, spearing the missiles and causing premature detonation, a smokescreen forming from the explosions.

The BurningGreymon exploded forwards, swathed in flame that vented from her pores, her Rudri Tarpana glowing white-hot as they elongated into long, sword-like blades, burning with molten heat. Ripping through the smoke, she struck the Rapidmon as he tried to charge. Fire roared from her hands and speared him, but despite taking the flames full-force, he suffered no harm beside being knocked back slightly.

Eyes stained with rage and disbelief, Vritra roared and stabbed a blade forward. "Asura Blade!" The rabbit-like Digimon took the blow on one arm-cannon and pointed the other at Vritra's face, only to have her kick him aside with a vicious blow of her burning foot and rocket after him, striking him with fiery bolts from her wings before slashing with one of her fiery blades...

The weapon pierced right through him, but something was wrong. There was no blood, no pain in his eyes. And then there was that transparency... slight, only noticeable at this close range, but there, clearly.

She withdrew the blade and was shocked by the lack of a wound. The blow should have killed him. It was a perfect Digi-core strike, any living Digimon that took such a blow should have died. At the very least, they would have suffered massive, critical damage to their data-structure's integrity. There was something very wrong here.

"What the hell are you made of?" she muttered in a burning voice, before spreading her wings as flames roared from her pores, venting through her armor. Swathed in flame, she took the form of a burning dragon, and she roared the fury of the inferno to the heavens.

"Wildfire Tsunami!"

The flames exploded like a bomb, consuming the street in searing, burning fire. The ground cracked and melted, the air caught flame and a prominence of white-hot heat roared in the skies overhead. It should have incinerated all within the blast radius but Vritra herself.

Yet when the fires faded, there was the Rapidmon still, not even charred or blackened by the attack. But at least the explosive result of Vritra's technique served another, unintentional purpose...

-

The skies flashed white-hot, and the roar sounded across the ruins, a call to arms for the Peacemakers, though Vritra had not intended so.

Bedivere saw it in the heavens and knew instantly something had happened, something was wrong. He exploded into the sky, cape whipping in the wind, Fragarach catching light in his hand...

He barely saw them, only two shadows on the skyline, and then the world was filled by burning shades of crimson, gold and orange, the fiery light consuming him in heat, light and pain...

It was a second later that the words which had summoned the attacks reached his ears.

"Terra Force!"

"Final Crest!"

He was crushed into the ruins and the power detonated around him, a burning explosion which laid waste to a good part of the ruins, laying flat the shattered remnants of Avalon around him. With a roar he stood, only to be shocked by the sight of the two figures who strode toward him.

A WarGreymon and MedievalGallantmon approached across the ruins, the former readying Dramon Destroyers, the latter spinning his Dunas poleaxe in his grip. Both had eyes filled with hate and fury, those burning eyes fixated on the Slayerdramon.

"Why didn't you save us?!" the MedievalGallantmon howled.

"Why did you let us die?!" the WarGreymon added.

"Siegfried? Drachna?" Bedivere cried out in disbelief, and his voice quaked with horror and fear. They couldn't be here... they were dead. He'd heard the statements of those who saw them die... it was impossible!

"Dragon Crusher!" With a desperate cry, Bedivere brought up the Fragarach an instant before Drachna's Dramon Destroyers ripped through him with likely fatal results, given the Anti-Dragon qualities of the gauntlets. Sparks flew as the bladed weapons screamed off each other, and locked in the stalemate, Bedivere was dimly aware of Siegfried charging, Dunas raised, a howl of hatred ripping itself from the crimson warrior's throat.

Desperation flooded Bedivere, and his hands shone with an emerald light, words tearing from his throat. "Digitalize of Soul!" Bolts of power ripped from his hands even as they gripped the Fragarach, drilling into Drachna's face and blinding him with their intensity. With an angry howl, the WarGreymon was forced back, and Bedivere moved, releasing his grip on the Fragarach with one hand and raising the other as emerald power flashed across his palm again.

Three flashes of power and light shrieked from his grip and speared Siegfried as the knight prepared to decapitate Bedivere with a blow of the Dunas, crushing the knight away, though he gave no cry of pain, no indication of injury. This puzzled Bedivere for an instant, beforea roar filled his attention and he was forced to sidestep a wild blow from Drachna. Something was definitely wrong.

Both Siegfried and Drachna had been Avalonian soldiers, yet their technique seemed to have decayed to nothing more than feral blows of overwhelming power. They were pouring immense power into each strike, and somehow the Slayerdramon's counter-blows seemed to have very little effect upon them. This was wrong.

"What is this?" he snarled, before gripping the Fragarach in both hands. "Dual Blade!" The data composing the sword became visible, flowing chains of zeroes and ones which fractured and separated, reforming and welding together in new forms in both hands. Throwing out his arms to each side, the digital code ignited, and when the flames faded he gripped a shorter replica of his blade in each hand.

With a cry, the Lord of the Empty Seat ripped forwards towards Drachna, his swords burning with power as he struck a trio of blows to the WarGreymon in rapid succession, aiming to remove him from the fight as quickly as possible in order to avoid prolonged battle against an Anti-Dramon soldier. The blows were landed with perfect skill, testament to his personal training regime, two diagonal slashes ripping across the armored Digimon's chest, shoulder-to-hip, and then a twin blow which landed like a blacksmith's hammer against the WarGreymon's helm. It should have stunned him at the very least, and as such Bedivere was shocked utterly when he merely reacted by hurling a blow at him with a Dramon Destroyer.

Sidestepping, Bedivere spun his swords, flames roaring around the blades. It became evident he needed more force to put Drachna down in this case.

"Shoryu Slash!" he roared, unleashing fire from both swords as streams of molten power which speared Drachna and hurled him away in a fiery blaze, flames detonating around the draconic warrior as he impacted. He vanished into a blazing conflagration.

Bedivere turned and beheld Siegfried, who swung the Dunas.

"Rage of Wyvern!" Power screamed from the arc of his slash, a draconic burst which smashed into Bedivere's hastily-raised swords. Though the weapons served to shield him somewhat, he was still hurled back by the pure force of the attack.

With a feral roar, Siegfried charged, and Bedivere rose to meet him, readying his swords, only to be met with another roar from his side. He barely blocked two strikes at once, one from the Dunas, and the other from both of Drachna's Dramon Destroyers. Sparks shrieked forth as he strained to hold both off...

[Griff4815]

"Split up. Look for anything out of the ordinary, signal if you find something."

Michael's words ripped through Kheprius' ears searing at his throbbing head from the inside out. "Hey, why don't you say that a little louder next time? I don't think the dead quite heard ya!" he snarled, hunched over, holding his head in his hands.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Gunnar retorted, grimacing as he held his equally pained head.

"Come on, Kheprius," Pyra said with a roll of her eyes, grabbing hold of the bug's arm and pulling him.

"Can't you blast my digicore to pieces again first?" the reluctant Khep protested as he was dragged along.

Pyra scowled at the memory of her dark evolution. "If you keep bringing that up, I will," she warned.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gunnar flew slowly over the ruins of Avalon, looking around from a low altitude. Despite his crippling hangover, Gunnar took to quietly singing a little ditty to try to lighten the up the horribly depressing atmosphere of the city.

"If there's somethin' strange... in the neighbourhood," the ShineGreymon sang in a murmur. "Who ya gonna call? Peacemakers!"

He looked around and saw nothing, so carried on and kept serenading himself. Gunnar failed to notice a shadow looming behind him in his flight.

"If it's somethin' weird... and it don't look good. Who ya gonna call?"

"Death..." a dark voice cut through the air behind him.

"No..." Gunnar replied, peeved that somebody cut him off and ruined his song. "It's 'Peacemakers!'" he told them, stopping his flight and swinging around to face the digimon.

"Your version doesn't even sound goo--" Gunnar cut himself off at around the same time that his face went white.

Floating in front of him was the ghostly apparition of a MirageGaogamon, whose distant eyes pierced deep inside of him, causing an unexplained sense of fear and the feeling that something was very 'wrong'.

"What... Who the hell are you?" Gunnar demanded, taking a few paces back and studying the digimon.

The ghost responded with a growl and lunged forward, stabbing his large gauntlets in Gunnar's direction. The ShineGreymon quickly reacted by flying backwards. "Okay, buddy, you want to mess with the lord of awesome? Fine by me!" he said, outstretching his wings and bringing his hands in front of the large blue orb on his chest. "Glorious Burst!"

Streaks of brilliant white energy burst from the lenses on his wings and chest, all piercing into the MirageGaogamon. Gunnar's eyes widened upon seeing that his attacks were going straight through the digimon yet seemed to do nothing. "Full Moon Blaster!" the spectre hollared as he fired a large beam from his chest.

"Crap!" sputtered Gunnar, flying upwards and doing a flip in the air as the torrent of energy passed under him. "G-Guys!" he yelled, looking over his shoulder. "I think I found something out of the ordinary!" Gunnar then outstretched his wings and gave off a bright, condensed blast of particles from his wings, giving off the appearance of a faded exploding firework to signal the others.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As yells and attacks began to sound out from many directions nearby, Pyra turned around. "Something's going on," she told Kheprius. "Maybe it's Mephistopheles. You head towards Bedivere, I'll head towards Gunnar."

She made it three steps before stopping dead in her tracks upon seeing something standing ahead of her. Kheprius noticed her footsteps cease and the absence of a flap of her wings. She had stopped for some reason.

"Pyra? What's wrong?" he asked, turning around to look at her.

Pyra stood staring forwards in absolute horror, freezing her actions completely. In front of her was the incorporeal form of a Duftmon. Pyra could tell instantaneously who it was. None other than Sir Gawain.

The Paildramon's eyes were wide with shock and confusion as he slowly approached. "You forsook the world," he whispered stepping closer. "You're the reason we're all dead. If you hadn't resisted the Crusade..."

"What..." Pyra gasped, disguised among a sharp exhale. "How can..."

Kheprius' eye widened upon seeing the Royal Knight. "What the hell?" As he spoke, a laser grazed the side of his arm, eliciting a grunt from the monoptic bug. He swung around to see where the laser came from. The GrandisKuwagamon saw the smoke rising up from the end of something. Upon closer inspection from his blurred vision, he quickly recognized it as a lance. He then followed the lance back to its owner.

Kheprius recoiled upon seeing Sir Cador standing opposite to him, wearing a hate-filled scowl on his face.

"Ca-Cador?!" Kheprius stammered upon seeing the crimson dragon. "But I thought you died!" Though overwhelmingly confused, Kheprius did feel a slight sense of joy upon seeing the Royal Knight who he has a sort of friendship/rivalry with. "No... This can't be," he said, placing his hand on his head. "I'm just hallucinating or something from drinking so much. This is just part of one mead-soaked hangover..."

"...I did die," he growled. Cador then lunged forwards with the Ambrosius and a resounding roar. Gawain charged as well, ripping across the ground towards Pyra.

Kheprius' Gran Killers met Cador's lance and he was sent back, to be stopped by Pyra's motionless form. "What the hell! This is real?!" he shouted, his eye widening. "Why does bad stuff always happen when I drink?!"

As Gawain charged Pyra, she managed to snap herself out of her dread-filled reverie on instinct to pull both herself and Kheprius out of the way of Gawain's descending sword.

"How can it be? He'd dead. I saw him die. He was the one who formulated the siege. He was gone." Many thoughts raced through Pyra's mind as she backed away from him.

"Just like the old days, huh, Pyra?" Kheprius said with nervous humour before turning back to face his resurrected draconic counterpart.

[Tundra_Wolfmane]

"Are you okay?"

At first, Aeria hadn’t really noticed the hand on her shoulder, still caught up in the images that ran so strongly through her mind. The accompanying voice, however, had been enough to pull her out of her reverie and cause her to take a sharp inhale of air. She tentatively turned her head to her side to see whoever they belonged to, and she was a bit surprised to see someone she didn’t really know. She did, however, recognize him, a TigerVespamon, from the gathering of Peacemakers, although she didn’t really get his name.

She then blinked, remembering what state she was. “I-I,” she started, pulling herself up to a stand as the necklace-wearing TigerVespamon retracted his hand, leaving a spot of warmth on the armour she wore where his hand was. She did her best to pay it no heed.

The WarGreymon turned to him, using her hands to dry away the tears that she had ultimately been able to keep from falling. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, though looking downwards at her feet rather than facing him. “I shouldn’t have- you didn’t- I’m…” she trailed, off as she released her face to grip the side of her arm with a free hand.

She then bowed, biting her lower lip before speaking again. “Aeria D’Sinclaire,” she suddenly greeted, saying the only thing that she thought she could say. “I...will be fine,” she added as she resumed her standing position.

She was uncomfortable. That much was already obvious by her self-conscious and guarded posture. The silence was nerve-wracking, especially since she didn’t know what else to say. She bit her lip.

“I’ll be going,” she suddenly said, turning around and quickly walking back towards the wedding, unable to take feeling so…helpless and unnerved.

She hoped she didn’t make a bad first impression, unlikely as it seemed to her.

-------------------------------------------------------

“Huzzah!” Shoon cried out, jumping over a large rockface – or at least large for his height – and continued to dash through the ruins of Avalon, determined to find something of note to return to Michael or Bedivere or Thor. Heck, he’d return it to Nocchi, just as long as he got something to return.

He just knew it. He just knew that if he found something important then he’d have achieved something, and then it would only be time before he’d be someone great and powerful and famed across the land.

He then stopped without warning, his arms spinning in order for him to regain his balance and not fall flat on his face. A sneaky look came upon his face, having spotted something…interesting. He crept up to a pile of debris, his eyes sparkling. “Ooooh, what have we here?” he asked no one in particular as he stared at the piece of object that the sunlight glinted off of.

The Mamemon X grabbed it and pulled it from under loose rocks, and his eyes widened in glee. In his hand, he held an intricately-crafted and emblazoned silver amulet, albeit dirty with mud and dirt. The image wasn’t clear anymore, but the fact that it was silver, or at least looked like it, told of its possible quality. His eyes suddenly glazed over, his mind going into scenario mode as he started to imagine what he would look like when he finally became world-renowned.

There he was in all his glory, standing over the fallen bodies of his imaginably strong foes, unconscious rather than dead because he would need his enemies to spread news of his strength. He was, of course, stronger and far handsomer than they, so it made sense to him that he would be victorious, with the sunlight on his metallic body, gleaming and shining. And the bright light emphasized greatly on the cleaned silver amulet that he had found so long ago.

Back to reality, Shoon was already stuck in dreamland, holding the amulet to the side of his face as his eyes twinkled at his daydream; he was unaware of the being that approached him from behind.

“Why?” it said, though Shoon paid it no attention, too far engrossed in his fantasy. That is, until he felt himself get poked from behind.

“Wha?” he asked, turning around. And he blinked to see a Kotemon looking at him strangely. “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous!” Shoon reprimanded the rookie, waving a finger in front of him.

“Why didn’t you save me?” the Kotemon continued, raising the bamboo sword into the air. “Why!? Fire Men!” he exclaimed as his weapon burst into flames as he slashed down.

Shoon gave a yelp as he jumped to the side just in time to avoid getting burned. He pushed himself up, facing his assailant. “Hey! Don’t do that!” Shoon exclaimed, shaking a fist. “I should teach you a lesson!”

‘A weak one should show him who’s boss,’ he thought, a sly grin on his face.

“Smiley Bomb,” he shouted, throwing a tiny sphere with a smiley face on it towards the Kotemon. It landed in front of the Kotemon, and then it exploded, kicking up dust and dirt, and it even forced Shoon to land on his behind.

His eyes widened. “Hey, hey! Are you alright!?” he called out frantically. He hadn’t meant for the bomb to be that strong. He had underestimated the power of his bombs. Galic did say that he should stop tinkering with his bombs since the forest fire incident…

The dust cloud cleared away with the wind, showing the Kotemon uninjured. “Oh, great! You’re safe!” Shoon said, relieved, and then double backed. “Wait a second…you’re safe!?” he asked, surprise written all over his face.

“…you left me to die,” the Kotemon continued, walking towards the Mamemon X. It was then that Shoon noticed the slight transparency about him. “…so we’ll bring you with us,” it added, as more appeared behind him. A Dinuhumon, a Gladimon, and a Yasyamon walked towards him, all bearing the same almost-see-through-but-not-quite quality that the Kotemon bore.

Shoon started to back up. “S-s-stay away!” he said as he got on his feet. “Smiley Bomb!” he shouted, throwing a stronger version of the bomb than the one he had thrown. His jaw practically dropped to the ground as he watched the spherical object pass right through the Dinohumon – nevermind that he was aiming at the Gladimon a few feet away – and explode right behind it, the light from explosion giving the four approaching Digimon a menacing and dangerous look.

Okay, so it seemed like that his bombs weren’t working on them. Plus, they were all transparent. However, since the Kotemon was able to hit him before, the same wasn’t true if they attacked him. Logic told him that they were ghosts, but logic also told him that ghosts weren’t supposed to be real (unless you include than Bakemon and Soulmon, but they’re more like Halloween costumes than real ghosts). In short, nothing was making sense at the moment.

So he did the only rational thing he could think of. Shoon screamed bloody murder.

And then, with the amulet still in his tightly gripped hand and arms in the air, proceeded to turn his back on them and flee, yelling, “Run awaaaaaaaaaaay!”

-------------------------------------------------------

“Grey Fire!”

Multiple balls of fire suddenly shot past Bedivere, smashing right into his two aggressors. They burst and coated their bodies in flames, and they grew in intensity as more and more fireballs shot past Bedivere and onto them. While the attacks seemed to do nothing physically, they were at least able to get the MedievalGallantmon and the WarGreymon to get back through sheer force of numbers, allowing Bedivere a moment of reprieve from the relentless attacks.

“Are you okay?” Aeria asked, rushing to the Slayerdramon’s side. Her face was worried and a bit nervous, unsure whether she had done the right thing in intervening. She couldn’t, however, stand to just sit and watch, so she had went against her better judgment and opted to help, or at least try to. The female WarGreymon turned back to the recovering attackers. “Um…I don’t think we should fight them,” she said, feeling unnerved at how seamlessly they shrugged off the fires of her attack.

She glanced at Bedivere as he replied to her, but she had to turn back as she noticed movement in front of her. She let out a shriek of surprise as Drachna tackled her like a speeding train, forcing her backwards and bringing her away from Bedivere to once again fend himself alone against Seigfriend.

Drachna stopped suddenly, but Aeria did not, continuing with the momentum that the male WarGreymon forced her in and making her crash into the ground without him to maintain the speed. Knowing that she shouldn’t stay still for too long, she forced herself back up on her feet a few seconds later, breathing deeply to calm her heart.

She restrained herself from biting her lower lip as she took in her opponent.

It was quite explicit that Drachna, though of the same species, was larger than her in both bulk and height. It wouldn’t have surprised her if he was also stronger than her. She wasn’t going to take the chance that he could overpower her. He gave her a heated glare that she couldn’t help but liken to the disappointed looks that her father used to give her whenever she failed to live up to his expectations. In fact, he almost reminded her of her father, which meant that she could at least expect some familiar things.

“Great Tornado!” Drachna yelled as he started spinning, turning into a life-sized tornado that suddenly hurtled towards her at an alarming speed.

Reflex kicked in, and she was able to dodge by jumping to the side. Though smaller, she realized she was quicker as long as the element of surprise wasn’t factored in. She rolled into a stand, something which she had done frequently during her training sessions with her dad, and quickly raised her arms in the air, fiery orange energy gathering in her palms. The energy that was the size of an orange then grew in bulk, becoming a large mass of energy that radiated heat like a miniature sun.

“Terra Force!”

Aeria shot the large energy ball towards Drachna, who had to stop after his attack missed. He didn’t move as the attack collided with him head-on, creating a massive shockwave that sent debris flying everywhere. The earth cracked and broke under the pressure and strength of the attack, adding more objects with which were blasted away. Flames darted from the explosion, catching fire to whatever flammable object it touched, as well as leaving a few trails of flames that simply landed on the ground.

Aeria braced herself, trying to keep an eye open through the blasting wind to look for the opponent that she had just attacked. She was worried; her Terra Force was never as large nor as powerful as the ones her father had shown her.

Her heart fell when she saw the male WarGreymon appear unscathed yet again. She took to the air, Drachna following suit with murder clear in his eyes. Aeria wasn’t sure she wanted to fight this one at all. He reminded her too much of her father.

She sped back towards Bedivere, keeping ahead of Drachna with her superior speed over him.

[storymasterb]

Flames erupted, driving back the raging revenents that were Drachna and Siegfried. Bedivere glanced back in surprise as another WarGreymon - he recalled her name as Aeria from the commentary he'd received on the new Peacemakers courtesy of an Anatolian general - stepped up, driving the two foes back with her attacks.

“Are you okay?”

"I'm fine," he replied, readying his dual-Fragarach, keeping a wary eye on Drachna and Siegfried.

“Um…I don’t think we should fight them,” she continued.

"We don't have much..." he began, before Drachna rocketed forwards and hurled her away, following her in a blaze of motion. Behind the rampaging WarGreymon came Siegfried, Dunas drawn back for a lethal blow.

The poleaxe swung, ripping the air, but Bedivere caught the blow on one sword before ripping the other across Siegfried's chestplate, to no effect. The MedievalGallantmon gave a snarl and threw a kick at the Slayerdramon's knee, which was narrowly evaded at the cost of freeing the Dunas, Siegfried backhanding with the poleaxe and stabbing its pointed tip into Bedivere's shoulder.

A snarl of pain ripped from the dragon knight as a trail of blood began to run down his plate armor, and Siegfried withdrew the Dunas, evading the savage blows Bedivere hurled at him as his warrior's heart began to burn with fury at this impossible fight.

Emerald power flickered across his swords. "Digitalize of Soul!" Arcs of emerald tore forwards and ripped toward Siegfried, battering against the knight like ocean waves and driving him back with their breaking force. Bedivere gave a roar, and flame lit upon the blades. "Shoryu Slash!" Two diagonal sweeps of the blade sent a howling draconic inferno screaming towards the MedievalGallantmon, swathing him in hellish flames that grabbed him in their clutches and crushed him into the ruins, detonating in a cataclysmic fireball around the revenent.

Still he rose, emerging unharmed with the Dunas raised, burning with infernal energies.

"Rage of Wyvern!" The poleaxe hammered into the ground, and the earth split under the force of a screaming draconic force ripping across it towards Bedivere, who reacted, hurling himself aside to evade the blast, which clipped him and hurled him aside.

With a howl of berserk rage, Siegfried hurled himself at his fallen opponent, who rose, swords burning with power as he raised one and lashed it like a whip with a shout of, "Koryu Slash!" The chain-links composing the sword unwound and lashed, wrapping around Siegfried tightly. He snarled like a beast and raged, straining to break free, but was held tightly by the bladed chains the sword had become.

Bedivere stared at Siegfried for a long moment, before suddenly...

"Terra Force!" A burning blast smashed against him, detonating in a fiery explosion and hurling him forwards. He lost his grip on both swords, releasing Siegfried, as he was dashed into the ruins, shattering the stone upon impact.

One of Drachna's attacks aimed at Aeria had missed and managed to strike the Slayerdramon instead, and now the two WarGreymon were moving back to the battle of Siegfried and Bedivere, Aeria retreating in the face of Drachna's invulnerability and greater power.

Bedivere snarled as he stood, soul ablaze with a righteous anger at this fight. Siegfried was charging towards Aeria, apparently intent on dealing with her in a surprise attack, and the sight brought rage to Bedivere's eyes.

"His might upholds the weak, his word speaks only truth, his wrath undoes the wicked. The right can never die, if one man still remembers..." he recited in a voice of flame as his body began to glow in shades of emerald and sapphire, the rays reaching out and bathing the ruined street in their glorious illumination. Where they overlapped, they ignited into a burning shade of ruby, which began to blaze bright across the Slayerdramon's form as he closed his eyes and his words spoke out, regal and powerful...

"Behold the holy light born of exalted wings. I summon the strength of the Dragon Kings."

The burning crimson began to take shape, forming immense armored wings behind him as he began to grow in size, his dual-swords flying to his hand and transforming to crimson light...

"Beware our hopes transformed to light... Let injustice beware - an Exalted Knight!"

The swords in his grip burned and reformed, creating a long lance, which was gripped in his hand as his form grew, becoming larger and more muscular, his armor reforming to coat his new body, shining horns erupting from his skull to form a majestic crown of bone behind his head. The majestic wings spread out, burning with radiance that turned the gray stone around to blood-red.

"Exalted Evolution! Examon!"

With a majestic roar of anger and pride, Bedivere erupted into the sky, still burning with the evolutionary radiance. Aiming the Ambrosius lance in his hand, he focused his burning golden eyes upon Siegfried.

"Pendragon's Glory!" A hail of fiery laser-bolts tore from the Ambrosius and impacted around Siegfried, stopping the knight dead as he was bombarded by the burning shots.

As Drachna charged another Terra Force to attack Aeria, he suddenly found himself bombarded by a hail of shells from the Ambrosius, which detonated around him and encased him in freezing ice. With one opponent restrained for the time being, Bedivere descended to Aeria's side.

"Are you alright?" he asked, regarding Siegfried warily as the crimson knight stood, his eyes ablaze with hate...

[Kamotz]

Explosions ripped through the reconstruction ruins of Avalon as the risen dead took revenge on the living. As the Peacemakers engaged the ghosts more began to crawl from the rubble. They stalked forward, a vast, undead and undying army of lost souls: Digimon of all levels and types. They were the victims of disasters, the victims of violent ends, struck down by the Royal Knights' Siege and the war with the Mikaboshi. They scrambled over the crushed stone, their eyes empty and blank.

"Why did you let me die?" they asked the living. "Why did you let me die?" Over and over, repeated endlessly: it was the chorus of these witnesses to the horrific.

"Hold them back!" Michael shouted, attempting to banish the spirits with holy light, but they simply reconstituted and continued forward. Not even Samael's Gold Digizoid bullets were able to put down the ghosts for more than a few moments.

There was a sudden rush of movement as a white flash slammed into Thor and knocked him to his knees. Black rushed before him and hurled him back. Before him stood the incorporeal forms of Artorius and Lancelot.

"You let us die," Artorius accused. "You are a god. You should have saved us."

"It was not our place to fight the Mikaboshi," Lancelot said. "He is an enemy of the gods. He was your responsibility."

"You set him free," Thor growled, gripping the White Sword tightly.

"To save this world," Artorius said. "You left us with no other choice."

"Enough of this," Thor growled to himself. He stood and faced his two adversaries. He raised his sword. "Initialize!" Power flooded from the blade and bore into Lancelot and Artorius. The two dead knights were sundered from existence with a flash...only to reconstitute a few moments later.

"We cannot keep this up," Thor said as he blocked Lancelot's blade and shoved Artorius back. "There are too many of them and we cannot stop them."

"Yeah, it's hard to kill what's already dead!" Samael growled.

"Michael, what are they?" Thor asked.

"I don't know," Michael grunted as he pushed Tristan back. "Look for some sort of marking on their bodies. They're somehow related to the seals, but if we don't know which one, we can't undo this."

[Griff4815]

"We've gotta fall back, Pyra," Kheprius said, looking over to her.

It took a few seconds for Pyra to remover herself from her thoughts and listen to him. "Uh, yeah. We need to regroup with the others. You go first, I'll cover us," she said.

"Got it," Kheprius agreed, lunging into the air as a laser blast from Cador passed between his legs. "Yeesh, that was close," he muttered to himself, looking downwards.

"Desperado Blaster!" Pyra called, firing multiple beam bullets towards both Gawain and Cador while jumping into the air. She then turned around and sped after Khep.

There she saw Gunnar closing in on them, flying backwards and releasing a single burst from each of the lenses on his body in a consecutive fashion instead of all at once, hoping to suppress the MirageGaogamon who tailed him.

The ShineGreymon spotted Pyra flying nearby and gave her a quick nod. "Any ideas?" he asked.

"Hopefully Michael or Samael will know what's going," she responded as they headed towards the bulk of the Peacemakers. They landed between Thor and Barachiel, who were both busy fending off ghosts.

Barachiel narrowed his eyes as his two beam swords clashed with Sir Dagonet's Claiohm Solais spear once again. As the Craniamon retracted his weapon to attack again, Barachiel stabbed his right Royal Meister into the ghosts chest, only to have it pass through him without effect.

"We cannot defeat these by conventional means, it seems," he muttered to himself, darting to the right in order to avoid being cleaved by Dagonet's blade.

"Look for some sort of marking on their bodies. They're somehow related to the seals, but if we don't know which one, we can't undo this."

The TigerVespamon nodded to himself and charged Dagonet once more. Their weapons clashed and the golden bug held firm against the spectre of the knight. However, he wasn't trying to break past Dagonet's spear, he was attempting to get in close enough to see the signatory.

His eyes furiously scanned Dagonet's incorporeal body. "Where is it?" he asked himself. Barachiel looked around every part of the front of the Craniamon's purple plate armour. "It's not on his weapon or his armour. Is it on his shield? Where could it b--"

In that moment, something caught his eye. The flowing piece of cloth that hung from Dagonet's belt fluttered in the breeze. Barachiel pushed hard against his swords as he took his attention on his enemy to look at the fabric. Indeed, just below the skull was a dimly glowing sigil about the size of a small fruit. The TigerVespamon had to focus all of his attention on it to make it out.

"Yes... That's it," he thought. He turned his head and looked behind him to the other Peacemakers. "Saint Michael! I fou--" Barachiel let out a throaty gasp as Sir Dagonet's foot connected with his stomach and sent him flying backwards.

His body hit Samael's, stopping his abrupt flight. Barachiel quickly pulled himself off of the demon and turned to Michael. "I think found it, Saint Michael. On Dagonet's sash was a small circle with an intricate design inside it."

"Great, so what now?" Gunnar growled, looking towards the Royal Knight in question. "Hey... it kinda looks like Tyr's drawing of Sig's face from when we were young," he mused. He then grinned. "Though it probably looks the same now."

"More importantly, why are the dead rising?" Pyra asked, drawing the spikes on her forarms and clashing with Sir Bors.

"You better know how to stop this, Mikey," Khep growled. "I don't suppose you can Gate of Destiny 'em?"

[Food Guy]

"So there are digimon coming back to life?" questioned Tia, "This is interesting, could be fun."

"Do not make jokes about this, it is very serious," said Hira, glaring at the Bastemon.

"Learn to lighten up big guy," teased Tia, "Anyways why are you with us again, I sort of got the feeling that you don't like either of us."

"Really?" mockingly asked Hira, "You really thought that, I wonder why? And for your information, I believe in strength in numbers."

"You two be quiet," Kole suddenly said. "Something's coming."

"No there isn't," remarked Hira, "In case you can't tell, there is nothing around us."

Suddenly Kole splayed his hand forwards and the Mihiramon was slammed backwards, just as an incorporeal pink knight's fist appeared where Hira's head was.

"Why Guinevere, you look so lively for someone who is dead," said Kole, "Clown Trick!"

Not wasting any time, Kole thrust his hands forward. Twin magic blasts burst out and wrapped around the Crusadermon. He waved his hands, and the blasts exploded, leaving huge cloud of smoke in their wake. However, once the smoke died down, Kole let out a gasp of surprise when he saw that Guinevere didn't even have a scratch on her.

"Guys, you might want to run," warned Kole.

"I don't take orders from anyone," snapped Hira, "Bǎo Bàng!"

He waved his tail, and it suddenly broke up into a three section staff.

"Vimohana!"

Hira swung his staff tail, and it resulted in a sonic boom being sent towards Guinevere. The boom slammed into her body and didn't even make her sway.

"Impossible," said Hira, "I have the power of Seiryu behind me, that should have done some damage to her."

"Let me have a go," said Tia, "I'll put this lady in her place. Helter Skelter!"

Tia started to sway her hips, and as she did so, her body started glow. She threw her arms out, and the energy burst from her body and wrapped around Guinevere and sank into her body.

"Next course, Vampire Dance!"

Tia slashed at the immobilized Royal Knight and six arcs of energy erupted from her claws. The arcs collided with the Crusadermon, but still there was no sign of damage.

"Why didn't you save me?" asked Guinevere, "You let me die."

"I had nothing to do with your death," said Kole, "You died because of Artorius."

"You let me die. Fist of Athena!"

With lightning speed, Guinevere burst forward, her Pile Buster slamming into Kole's abdomen.

"This again?" asked Kole, "Well let me tell you lovie, I am a lot stronger than I was before. Tia, Hira you guys need to run now!"

The two feline digimon nodded their heads and turned around, and started to run. As the two digimon ran, Kole unsheathed two of his swords.

"Bring it you ghost Knight!"

------------------------------------

"Hey, remember Michael saying something about a mark?" asked Tia as they ran.

"Of course I remember, you cat," snapped Hira, "I pay attention."

"You didn't happen to notice the mark on Guinevere's Pile Bunker did you?"

"Why yes I did, now that you mention it," replied the Mihiramon.

"Why did you let me die?"

Stopping in their tracks, the pair of digimon turned around and saw a Garudamon and a Knightmon.

"This could be bad," said Tia.

[Kamotz]

Samael elbowed Barachiel away, retrieved his dropped guns, and rolled back to his feet. He shot the TigerVespamon a dirty look and turned back to the battle at hand. Even his specialized bullets couldn't do more than briefly dissipate the angry spirits. Whenever they were struck they'd simply break down into a thin grey smoke and reform somewhere else a few moments later.

"Stupid bug," he growled. He overheard Khep's question, full of false bravado and confidence. "Yeah, Mikey, just G.o.D these creeps!"

"I can't," Michael said, answering Samael and Kheprius. "They're not alive. They're not even undead. They're angry spirits; they don't exist in the physical world. The Gate of Destiny would have no effect."

"Well that's just dandy," Samael hissed. He fired off another few rounds; they punched though the incorporeal spirits, but the spirits returned moments later. "Gah! How do we stop these things?"

"I can't see the mark on Dagonet clearly enough," Michael growled, still fighting off Tristan. His sword passed harmlessly through the apparition, and Tristan's hand closed around Michael's neck.

The archangel choked out a startled gasp as spots of light began to dance in his vision. Only his supreme willpower kept him from surrendering to the blackness. As his vision blurred, he caught sight of a strange, coin-sized marking branded onto the back of Tristan's hand. With a roar, Michael let loose a desperate Hand of Fate that dissipated Tristan, and Michael dropped to the ground.

"The mark," he rasped, rubbing his throat. "It's the mark of the Witnesses."

"The what?" Samael asked, kicking Bors away from him. "Witnesses to what?"

"All of these souls lost their lives during world-changing events, events integral to other seals," Michael said as he rose to his feet. "A powerful spell was used to raise and enrage these spirits; they were called here by force."

"How do we banish them?" Thor called out as he quickly parried a pair of strikes from Artorius and Lancelot. The two knights recovered and struck again, but Thor wheeled about with the White Sword and struck them down. "At least they're easier to take down this--GRAH!"

Thor stumbled forward as Lancelot's Supreme Cannon blasted him from behind. Artorius sprang towards him, ready to impale the Thunder God on his GradAlpha. But Thor blocked the strike with his clawed gauntlet, whirled about and lashed out with his Hyper Prominence.

"They were risen with a powerful spell," Michael said. "It would take an equally powerful spell to return them to rest. I don't--I don't know how to...This is magic beyond my understanding." He looked to the other Peacemakers. "Thor, can you use the White Sword's power to reformat their data? It might take them longer to reform and buy us some time."

"I will try," Thor said. He closed his eyes and held the White Sword before him. In his mind's eye he saw Artorius and Lancelot charging his way, but he paid them little heed. Time seemed to slow down as he searched for that soulful peace he felt during the battle with the Mikaboshi, and as he breathed in the light, he exhaled power.

It flooded from the White Sword with a brilliant glow, bathing the ruins of Avalon with all Thor's godly might. The ray struck the two knight apparitions and dissipated them. The other spirits in the vicinity were also momentarily banished by the light.

"That should buy us a few moments," said Thor. He turned to Michael. "We need magic; it caused this uprising, it is the only thing that can fix it."

"None of us here have that sort of power," Michael said. "Not even Kole possesses that type of magic. To do this we need a sorcerer with power on the order of Mephistopheles."

"Loki," Thor muttered, leaning on the blade. "Loki is as powerful as Mephistopheles if not more so. He can lay the witnesses to rest." On the fractured remains of a skyscraper, Artorius and Lancelot reassembled themselves. "Call him here, I can try to hold them off."

Again Thor closed his eyes and searched for that place of peace within his soul. His weary body sought to prevent him from reaching it, but his mind persevered. He breathed in the warm rays of enlightenment, and through the White Sword he exhaled his power.

Thor stabbed his sword into the ruined earth and knelt before it. He placed his forehead against the warm, beating metal and continued to breathe his steady breath. As his power seeped into the ground, light spread from his form; a circle, a half kilometer in diameter, spread from him, and all the vengeful spirits within were thrown away. They reformed at the circle's edge, but within the circle, Thor and the Peacemakers were safe.

"How long can Thoreo keep this up?" Samael asked, watching the glowing edges of the circle. His third eye afforded him greater vision, and he could see the hundreds of spirits massing outside. "They're gonna come back really p*ssed off."

"We need to reach Loki," Michael said. His mind raced; how could they get word to Loki? How could they--?

"Speak the devil's name and he shall appear," Loki said, materializing in the space between Michael and Thor. "Perhaps a poor choice of wording on my part, but the saying rings true, no?"

"Can you fix this?" Michael demanded, no longer in the mood for idle chit-chat. "Can you lay these spirits to rest?"

"No," Loki answered, glancing around. He seemed to sense that Michael was in no mood for his banter. "Not at the moment. The spell is too much for me as it is now. This spell is powerful and Mephistopheles is a master."

"Thor said you could do it," Samael said.

"And I can," Loki insisted. "But not as I am right now. Imagine the spirits are water behind a dam. Mephistopheles tore the dam down and let them loose. My spell must be infinitely more complex. I must first return the spirits to the other side and then rebuild the metaphorical dam that keeps them there." He turned a burning green eye to Michael. "If I had several hours I could do it without a problem. But as it is, my brother's control will falter in less than ten minutes and then we'll have legions of vengeful spirits trying to claw out our eyes. If I had more power..."

"What do you need to do it now?" Michael demanded.

"Power," Loki answered. He glanced over the Peacemakers. "You, Piedmon, Kole, come here. I need you to give me your power."

"My what?" Kole asked, recoiling.

"Your power, your magic," Loki answered. "The power and magic you possess innately and in your Apocalymon form; I will need that to send these spirits away." He looked around, his eyes finally settling on Vritra. "And I will need fire. Fire upon fire."

Vritra snarled and didn't move.

"You can either stand there and pout, in which case these spirits will soon claw you to pieces, or you can do as I say and you'll get out of here alive," Loki said, his arms crossed. "It's your choice, but please, make it now so I know whether to stay or not."

Vritra growled under her breath but stalked towards Loki. She fixed him with a burning glare but he simply rolled his eyes.

"Kole, come here," Loki said. He placed his hands on the Piedmon's chest. "This will be...unpleasant." He sent his will into Kole, consuming the Piedmon's power with fiery voracity.

Kole let out a great scream as Loki devoured his power, and he shrank down to his Phantomon form. Loki then turned to Vritra, his body quaking with pent up power.

"Vritra, kneel."

"I will not," the fiery dragon hissed.

"You will or you all will die," Loki snarled back. Vritra begrudgingly stepped forward and kneeled to Loki. "Now. I do not call upon a named force. I do not call upon powers born of gods or mortals."

Thor suddenly fell forward as his will faltered and his shielding broke. At once the legions of vengeful dead swarmed forward, clawing their way towards the Peacemakers; they seemed to know Loki's intent and raged towards him.

"Protect Loki!" Michael ordered. "Keep them back!"

The spirits swarmed over them, clawing and slashing and burning them with all their rage and fury.

"I call upon forces that were old when this world was young," Loki continued to chant. "I call upon power and will, to send these angry souls back to where they belong. I call upon these forces and bend them to my will."

Loki bent, eye to eye with Vritra, and breathed deep, drawing her fiery soul out through her mouth and into his. She fell back, exhausted from the effort and Loki reeled back. His body burned and quaked, but with his eyes clamped shut he whispered eldritch words of power. Then, with a roar, his eyes flashed open and his spell pulsed out over the city. The spirits, so close to cutting the Peacemakers to ribbons, simply crumbled away. The spell pulse quieted, and Loki fell forward, his body smoked and smoldered, but soon that too faded.

"There, it's done," the mischievous god said with a smirk. "Now, perhaps you could deal with the next seal without me having to resort to nearly killing myself." He stood and with a wave of his arm, he vanished: returned to Anatolia.

Michael stared out at the empty expanse of Avalon; so many more had died, all because of Mephistopheles's machinations.

"This was only one seal," Michael whispered, though the still air carried his voice to the others. "What horrors await us, I dare not know..."

[Hotshot]

Nocchi collapsed among the other Peacemakers. The battle with the apparitions, the ghosts of the dead, the phantoms of the deceased, had been intense, to say the least. His strings had no effect on them, for they were nothing more than shadows. Evil, enraged, powerful shadows, but shadows nonetheless.

With a sigh, the Puppetmon sat up and clutched his arm. It had been grazed by the claws of a wretched ghost during the combat, and it stung like heck. Nocchi cringed. "Nuts...that was the dumbest thing ever. I hate ghosts. They're spooky, and apparently excruciatingly strong."

Gigas had his arms wrapped around Ivy, who was on her knees, sobbing. She had seen the faces of many Digimon she had known. Digimon that had died in the battle with the Mikaboshi had appeared before her, shouting and screaming at her. And then they had attacked her. It was just too much to bear.

But Gigas had come to her rescue. He had stepped in front of her, so that she couldn't watch as he fended them off. Even with his strength, he could only floor them for a few moments. They were tireless and cunning. Thankfully, Loki showed up and vanquished the spirits, much to the relief of the Peacemakers.

Sha stood not far off, scanning the ruinous area surrounding them. Due to his heritage of god, angel, and demon, his spiritual presence was immense, and he could feel things that most mortals could not. These ghosts, though no longer present, still left him with chills. He could sense that things were only going to get worse from here forward. The Shawjamon shook his head and sighed.

Turning back to the Peacemakers, he said, "So what're we gonna do now, gang? It's obvious this Mephilistine guy is strong...incredibly so. And we have absolutely no idea what he's gonna do next...but he's in the Digital World, so finding him's not impossible."

[Tundra_Wolfmane]

Aeria tried steadying herself on her shaky legs. The battle had taken a bigger toll on her than she realized. The whole time, she was fearing what she would do if he were part of them, if he was coming from her, a true ghost of her past. She feared that he would look at her with cold, hateful eyes, telling her that she had killed him. And she wouldn’t be able to say or do anything in reply but accept whatever punishment he would decide for her: most likely a quick death. Unless…unless she would lose consciousness once more…and that prospect wasn’t any better than the alternative.

She bit her lip, chasing away the memories before they could incite tears to accompany the pain in her heart. She needed to distract herself before her emotions overtake her completely. Crying after a battle, difficult as said battle was for them, was not a good impression to make.

The female WarGreymon looked around her, trying to find something or someone to take her attention of the growing number of heart-wrenching images that began to fill her mind. She found it in Bedivere.

She approached him, a sheepish and meek expression painted on her face. “Thank you…for helping me,” she said, hoping that her voice was loud enough. She could still remember when Bedivere had stopped Drachna from attacking her while she was dazed with all the explosions around her. “I’ve never been in a battle like that,” she whispered, remembering the small skirmishes that she had participated in before. They had never resulted in the damage that she had seen happen today.

Aeria turned her head when the Shawjumon began to speak out. Biting her lip, she thought to herself that she was of no use in such situations. She was even beginning to have second thoughts about even being there at all, since it seemed that she was proving herself to be a liability.

---------------------------------------------------------

Shoon slumped against the ground, breathing quick and short breaths that would have surely turned into hyperventilation if he had run for a few minutes more. In his gripping hand, the silver amulet was held. He turned to it, looking a bit frightened.

He firmly believed that it was cursed. The ghosts had appeared to him right after he had it in his possession, and it made sense that whoever owned it previously left it for a reason. After all, who would want to be chased by ghosts that want to kill you?

Of course, if he bothered to listen to what Michael had been saying before, he would have known and understood that it was an ordinary accessory that had nothing to do with the spirits of the dead rising back to life, albeit an accessory that would have cost a small fortune if he sold it. Unfortunately, he did not.

He stood up, winding the arm that held the accessory. “I don’t want this cursed thing anymore!” he yelled out, throwing it forward with all his might, closing his eyes and not really paying attention to where it was flying.

The moment he opened his eyes, he spotted the silver piece of jewellery fall down on someone’s unsuspecting head, causing him to widen his eyes and open his mouth. Of all the people it landed on, it had to be the one he knew had a temper: Kheprius Aeolus.

The moment the bug turned to him, he raised a finger in the air and yelled out, “I did nothing!” And then he pointed randomly, unwittingly ending up pointing to Nocchi, who was also closest the closts to him at the time. “He did it!” the Mamemon X yelled out.

[TheSequelReturns]

Duo let out a sigh of relief as the spirits vanished thanks to Loki's spell. He had never really seen the council member as a particularly trustworthy individual, but it looked like had had actually pulled through for them this time. At his side, Lucia slumped down and sat on the ground, her sword laying on the ground next to her. The battle had been tough, it had taken a toll on both of them, both physically and mentally. Lucia had gotten a bit struck by the ghosts wails herself, and she had very nearly started blaming herself for not saving them, even though there was no way she could have.

Duo placed a hand on her shoulder, wincing as the recent injury in his arm started to flare up. He had taken a heavy blow to his arm during the fight, and while it didn't look to be anything too serious, it still hurt. Lucia looked back up at him and nodded. She too was glad the chaos was over.

Of course, this had all had a pretty drastic effect on a certain other member of their trio. Justin had taken a knee and was breathing pretty heavily. He had one hand across his chest, and by the looks of it was still trembling a little bit.

"Hey, are you alright?" Duo asked.

As soon as the words left Duo's mouth, Justin straightened up and coughed as he regained his usual proud composure. "Oh, oh yes. I'm fine. Couldn't be better." He did a few stretches before turning back to Duo, still winding his arm. "But, you know, just out of curiosity, you guys don't do stuff like this all the time do you?"

"Oh no." Lucia said. "Sometimes we fight demons, other times a whole battalion, sometimes even legends, and every now and then we seem to find a manifestation of some primal force. So no, its not always ghosts. Sometimes it worse."

The fact that she was smiling the whole time she said this never seemed to reach Justin. "Oh, well, I see." He cast a glance at the other Peacemakers. "Its no issue, I am a hero after all. If more ghosts show up, I'll just have to pound them too. Haha... ha... ha."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it soon enough." Duo said. "At least, I hope we do. Things are getting crazier and crazier around here lately."

[Griff4815]

"So what're we gonna do now, gang? It's obvious this Mephilistine guy is strong...incredibly so. And we have absolutely no idea what he's gonna do next...but he's in the Digital World, so finding him's not impossible."

"Yeah, all we have to do is follow the trail of havoc!" Gunnar wisecracked as he made his GeoGrey Sword disappear in a shining flash of flame. Despite his seemingly light heart, the ShineGreymon had seen many fellow soldiers that he recognized among the ghosts and it did take its toll on him.

"Then we'd be chasing our tails because havoc seems to follow us," Khep responded dryly.

"Mephistopheles has five hundred seventy-nine seals to choose from and he only needs forty-five more," Barachiel said, his grip tightening on the Royal Meister swords in his grasp. "We cannot predict where he will strike next just by guessing."

"But unless we can predict where he will strike next, we're in trouble," Pyra answered.

The TigerVespamon nodded. "We cannot afford to be even one step behind him..."

"Easier said than done," Khep muttered, before glancing over to Hira. "Hey, Deva, think you can get your master to use whatever powers he has to give us an advantage over Mephistopheles?"

"Forget him," Gunnar said as he turned his attention to Michael and Samael. "This is more of an angel and demon matter..." he explained, his voice embittering on the word 'demon'.

"Lucky us..." Kheprius deadpanned. "Ninety-nine percent of both those groups have no intentions of helping us and the one percent that are..." Khep trailed off, leaving it open to interpretation.

A few moments later, the bug digimon felt a small object clonk him on the head and proceed to get hooked on his pincers. He ripped the amulet from his scissor-like horns and inspected the amulet that had been thrown at him. "... Throwing pawn shop rejects? Honestly, Sammy, use your big boy words."

“I did nothing!” Shoon shouted. before pointing randomly, unwittingly ending up pointing to Nocchi, who was also closest the closts to him at the time. “He did it!” the Mamemon X yelled out.

It was in this moment that Khep realized that it wasn't Samael who threw the amulet, but Shoon. Kheprius grinned and took a menacing step forwards. "You know, Shoon..." he began.

"Shoe," Gunnar corrected, raising a finger.

"...You look kind of like a cannonball," he suggested, peering down at him. "I wonder... if we lit one of your sashes on fire, would you eventually explode?"

Barachiel found Kheprius' teasing of the younger digimon a bit morbid. He opted to hold his tongue however, there were more important things to discuss and he didn't want to sidetrack them by starting up anything.

Gunnar glanced over to the trio of Duo, Lucia and Justin. His eyes focused more on Lucia, however. He found her rather attractive, but knew she was in a relationship with Duo, so he decided not to attempt anything.

"Oh, well, I see," Justin said, casting a glance at the other Peacemakers. "Its no issue, I am a hero after all. If more ghosts show up, I'll just have to pound them too. Haha... ha... ha."

"You might wanna wait until your knees stop shaking... hero," Gunnar jested, smirking.