Yamato Ishida (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
angry_friendship_wolf) wrote2021-03-05 09:11 pm
angry_friendship_wolf) wrote2021-03-05 09:11 pm
[tri OOM] The Second Battle of Odaiba, Part III
“You did what?” Nishijima asks once comms are back up.
Yamato’s settled back on MetalGarurumon, trying to ignore the threat of exhaustion tickling at the edge of his mind, scanning the battlefield. He can see the locations of the others moving around, intercepting Valvemon and destroying them, but reinforcements are coming thick and fast now. It seems like there’s another five every second, each one opening up its guts to spill out a sea of Troopmon.
“We didn’t die, so it’s fine,” Yamato says. “And it’s not like we’re going to make partner-swapping a regular thing.”
“Well, lucky for me you’re riding a giant scanner around. MetalGarurumon, send me Ishida and Yagami’s biometric data.”
“Sending it now,” MetalGarurumon rattles off blandly. Yamato scowls, noting the upload window appearing in the corner of his vision, just to show that it wasn’t a bluff from either of them.
He gives an irritable noise, wheeling MetalGarurumon about and giving a mental command to aim his cannon, targeting in on a Valvemon a kilometre and a half away. A blast of energy tears a clean hole through its body a moment later, before it and all the Troopmon inside it are sealed inside a block of ice.
They swoop over the Troopmon that had already left it a moment later, scattering bombs from MetalGarurumon’s stomach, before curving back towards the clouds.
“Five years,” Nishijima says.
“That how long you’re going to hassle me for?”
“It’s an estimate of how many years you and Yagami have burnt off your lifespans with that little stunt, looking at how much extra Crest energy you were having to pump out. Hope you weren’t planning on long and fruitful retirements playing Mahjong together.”
“As it happens, we weren’t.”
“You know you can’t do that again, right? Partnering up with someone else’s Digimon is the definition of trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, except the peg is your soul and the hole is someone else’s soul. If you do it again, there’s no promises that you’ll survive.”
“Noted,” Yamato says. He taps his wrist-computer, switching the channel to an open one. “Guys, I have your locations, give me status reports.”
Sora speaks first. “Mimi and I are trying to keep numbers down on the west side of the island, but more keep coming through the Gate. We’re in danger of being overrun if this keeps up.”
“Hikari-chan and I are covering the north-west. It looks like the Valvemon are a lot heavier here,” Takeru says. “Guess they’re trying to take the shortest route to the shore. There’s hundreds of thousands of Troopmon, they’re swamping us with numbers alone.”
“The Troopmon have some kind of self-resurrection ability. They can reformat their data inside anywhere that counts as their own territory,” Yamato replies. “If you don’t take out the Valvemon first, the Troopmon’ll just keep coming.”
“I’ve been covering the eastern side of the island. Not many Valvemon here, but Gennai’s thrown a ton of Scubamon at us,” Taichi says.
“Also on the eastern side, back in the water with Submarimon. They’re not too difficult to pick off,” Iori says.
“Keep patrolling that side then, Iori,” Yamato says. “Daisuke, what about you?”
“I’ve been in the middle of the island. There were a bunch of Valvemon, but there’s barely any right now.”
“He’s sending them all to the western side, trying to focus his attention and break the line there,” Yamato says. “Daisuke, you and Magnamon swap places with Hikari and Angewomon on the western line. Taichi, Hikari, rendezvous with me.”
“We going after Gennai?” Taichi asks.
“He’s got to be the one holding the Gate open,” Yamato says. “Some tall building where he has a good view of what’s going on and can easily channel power up into the -- …”
“Le Meridien Grand Pacific Hotel,” Hikari says sharply. “Um. I can -- sense him.”
Yamato knows better than to question that. Hikari’s senses are rarely wrong.
“Then we rendezvous there.”
---
Hikari’s right. Then again, Hikari’s always right.
They converge on Le Meridien, Odaiba’s largest and most luxurious hotel, at the same time, Yamato and MetalGarurumon swooping in from one angle while Taichi and Hikari, settled on WarGreymon and Angewomon’s shoulders, come flying in from the other side.
Gennai, dressed in not just Ken’s shape but in the purple and gold finery of Ken’s time as the Emperor, doesn’t acknowledge them beyond a sidelong look, staying rooted in place with a digivice in his hand, pointed up at the sky.
It isn’t Gennai that Yamato is worried about. It’s what’s floating in the depths of the Gate above him, far enough away that it almost can’t be seen: Meicrackmon, her head lifted upwards and her arms outstretched, looking for all the world as if she’s in a trance.
MetalGarurumon speeds down towards Gennai, and Yamato sees his lips move, muttering a word. He barely has time to pull up and backwards before light explodes out of the Gate, materialising into five shapes.
One long, snakelike beast blocks MetalGarurumon’s path, swinging a heavy tail towards him and just barely missing. Behind it, two smaller shapes drop down around Gennai, surrounding him like bodyguards swarming around a VIP. Another shape shoots towards WarGreymon, and another for Angewomon, forcing them both back.
The light fades from the Digimon closest to them first, the three that forced them back, an antlered green dragon, some kind of glittering cowboy held aloft on solar panels, and some kind of gigantic collection of green spheres held together by golden struts, lacking any form of face apart from two red-lined lips.
“Majiramon,” Yamato’s analyser chirps. “Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Metal-element Holy Dragon Digimon.”
“Sateramon,” Taichi’s analyser follows up, still in Gennai’s cheerful voice. “Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Metal-element GPS Digimon.”
“Sephirothmon,” Hikari’s analyser continues. “Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Metal-element Mutant Digimon.”
As the light finally fades away in its entirety, Yamato finally gets a look at the two Digimon flanking Gennai. The blue wolf man, with a jet engine on his back and the attire of a pro-wrestler, feels almost like a personal jab at Gabumon, like someone domesticated him. The other, another bestial Digimon that looks like someone zombified a Leomon, feels like a jab at everyone else.
“MachGaogamon. Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Metal-element Cyborg Digimon.”
“Armed-MadLeomon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Metal-element Undead Digimon.”
They’re all flickering with glitched patches of texture, their edges faintly fuzzy with static. Infected, then, with the berserker power boost that involves.
“Gennai, just back down. Surrender, and we can talk this out. Negotiate something,” Hikari says, her tone level and even a little severe, Yamato thinks. “I don’t know what happened to you, but we can figure out a way to help you.”
Gennai says nothing, simply flicks his fingers, and as more streaks of light shoot out from the Gate and scatter around the island, the five Digimon around him throw themselves at the three of them.
---
Another Valvemon falls to a blast of fire, and Sora grips Hououmon’s talon tight as she spirals up into the air again. Nearby, Rosemon, with Mimi perched on her shoulder, takes down a swarm of Troopmon with a few lashes of her whip.
They’re preparing to go after more Valvemon when three bolts of purple light land near them, materialising into glitching, Infected Digimon.
“Mephismon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Dark-element Fallen Angel Digimon.”
“Beautymon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Dark-element Beauty Digimon.”
“Yatagaramon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Dark-element Bewitching Bird Digimon.”
“This can’t be good,” Sora mutters.
---
Daisuke doesn’t intend to ever admit it out loud, but he and Takeru are almost in sync. Almost.
Magnamon and Seraphimon compliment each other, with Magnamon’s rapid attacks creating openings for Seraphimon’s heavier ones, and the two of them cut through the Valvemon and scatter the Troopmon with surprising ease.
When three bolts of purple light streak over his head to land all around them, shaping themselves into the looming forms of Digimon, he gets the feeling that’s about to change.
“Matadormon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Wind-element Undead Digimon.”
“Velgrmon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Wind-element Giant Bird Digimon.”
“Fakemon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Wind-element Camouflage Digimon.”
---
Iori’s beaten back the Scubamon when two blasts of purple light crash through the ocean’s surface.
“Submarimon, scans,” he says, adjusting his position in his Digimon’s cockpit.
“Two Digimon just landed,” Submarimon replies. “More on the island.”
“Calamaramon. Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Water-element Aquatic Digimon.”
“Shawujinmon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Water-element Demon Man Digimon.”
---
Yamato will say this for Gennai’s reinforcements: Despite their minds crumbling under the Infection, their teamwork is perfect. Part of him wonders if Gennai is somehow controlling them, occupying each of their minds and conducting them like an orchestra’s maestro.
Satellamon keeps his distance, firing on them with rapid fire, pinpoint-accurate blasts of energy, ensuring they’re always off balance, always distracted by avoiding his attacks. MachGaogamon harries MetalGarurumon, because even if he can’t keep up with MetalGarurumon, he has enough speed to pressure him, to make sure he can’t slow down even for a moment. MadLeomon, meanwhile, goes after WarGreymon, clashing against him in a battle of strength -- and every time WarGreymon seizes the upper hand, as he always does, a blast from Satellamon forces him into retreat. Majiramon and Angewomon wind around each other, trading blasts and spells, each one taking the upper hand sometimes, only to lose it again a moment later.
All the time, Meicrackmon hovers above them, past the Gate and into the roiling network space between worlds, as tendrils of shadow start to wind their way towards her on all sides. Yamato doesn’t have to check to know what those tendrils are, he can feel it: It’s the exact same energy as their Crests, harvested in tiny amounts from the stress, fear, and anger of every human on the planet.
“I’m going after Gennai,” he says, unlinking his senses from MetalGarurumon’s and clambering onto his feet, launching himself off the Digimon’s back. He mutters something into the ring on his finger as he falls, and the claws of stained glass snap around his arms and legs, his hair turning white as two more ears slide out of it.
Gennai’s ready for him. As he lands, there’s a sword in the older man’s hand, ready to parry his attack, twist, then send him reeling back with a blast of telekinetic force.
“Just so we’re clear,” Gennai says, as his form shifts from Ken’s to Taichi’s. “Even if you kill me here, it won’t change anything. The Odaiba Gate will close, you’ll have a moment of breathing room as my reinforcements stop coming through, but the flow of energy into Meicrackmon won’t stop. That’s already in motion, maintained by the Infected Digimon I placed around the globe.”
“We’ve got something planned for that.”
“Ah, your so-called cure? And the device that will distribute it far and wide?” Gennai asks. “I notice Koushiro Izumi isn’t among your numbers today. When are you expecting him back? Or do you have no idea when he’ll be returning, or if he’ll be returning, or if he and the others he took with him are even alive?”
Yamato sets his jaw. “He’ll be here.”
“I’m sure,” Gennai says wryly. “But here’s a history question for you. By now, I’m sure you’ve done your research, so you know that the Infection appeared once before, that it was the beginning of Apocalymon’s apotheosis. And if Koushiro and Miyako aren’t here, then they’ve realised that the light of the Crests can cure it, and have set themselves to the task of building an amplifier for it. So here’s a riddle for you: If the power of the Crests can completely purge the Infection, why didn’t they just do that in the first place?”
Yamato stops mid-step. It’s an involuntary action, and he curses it a moment later, because he knows Gennai saw it, and knows what it means. I don’t know.
“Would you like to know the answer, old friend? It’s a fair trade-off, I would say. Once upon a time, you were my teacher, after all,” Gennai says, “for all the good your lessons did me.”
“We’ll -- …”
“The power of the Crests can indeed cure Infected Digimon. If Koushiro returns, you can charge a wave that will cleanse every Infected Digimon it touches,” Gennai says grandly, gesturing with his hands. “Except Meicoomon. She isn’t just Infected, after all, she is the Infection, she is Apocalymon returned, in the flesh, an Idea clad in reality. And if you leave her alive, she’ll evolve it within her body, spread it again, and again.”
He smiled, cocking his head. “How arrogant of you to think that you could solve this problem and lose nothing. And it’s so much more galling for me to see, because I remember the exact same arrogance before, when you all released your power, believing so desperately that it would work -- only to find that black flame still festering in the corpse it was born in. Remember what I told you, Ishida: There are a thousand ways I can win, and only one way you can.”
The dark tendrils are getting closer and closer to Meicrackmon. WarGreymon lunges for the Gate from one side, Angewomon from another, MetalGarurumon from a third, but they find themselves blocked. The tendrils wind closer and closer, ready to jab into her at any moment, to kickstart an evolution.
“Avalon.”
The tendrils stab forward, only to rebound off a sphere of green light, formed out of overlapping magical circles and script, buzzing with energy. Yamato hasn’t seen that move before, but he recognises the Digimon who cast it, as it floats down through the swirling vortex of the Gate, arms outstretched.
After all, back when all this started, he and Taichi had faced off against it. Before they knew what Meicoomon was, when all they’d known was this towering, silent knight Digimon was willing to destroy a city to get to her, they’d formed Omegamon to battle against it.
“Alphamon,” his analyser says. “Ultimate-level, Vaccine-attribute, Light-element Holy Knight Digimon.”
Gennai’s form flickers from Taichi’s to Hikari’s, as he turns his gaze up towards the Gate. The tendrils of shadow bat at the shield around Meicrackmon, trying to penetrate it without success.
“Ah,” Gennai says. “So you’ve arrived at last.”
Yamato’s settled back on MetalGarurumon, trying to ignore the threat of exhaustion tickling at the edge of his mind, scanning the battlefield. He can see the locations of the others moving around, intercepting Valvemon and destroying them, but reinforcements are coming thick and fast now. It seems like there’s another five every second, each one opening up its guts to spill out a sea of Troopmon.
“We didn’t die, so it’s fine,” Yamato says. “And it’s not like we’re going to make partner-swapping a regular thing.”
“Well, lucky for me you’re riding a giant scanner around. MetalGarurumon, send me Ishida and Yagami’s biometric data.”
“Sending it now,” MetalGarurumon rattles off blandly. Yamato scowls, noting the upload window appearing in the corner of his vision, just to show that it wasn’t a bluff from either of them.
He gives an irritable noise, wheeling MetalGarurumon about and giving a mental command to aim his cannon, targeting in on a Valvemon a kilometre and a half away. A blast of energy tears a clean hole through its body a moment later, before it and all the Troopmon inside it are sealed inside a block of ice.
They swoop over the Troopmon that had already left it a moment later, scattering bombs from MetalGarurumon’s stomach, before curving back towards the clouds.
“Five years,” Nishijima says.
“That how long you’re going to hassle me for?”
“It’s an estimate of how many years you and Yagami have burnt off your lifespans with that little stunt, looking at how much extra Crest energy you were having to pump out. Hope you weren’t planning on long and fruitful retirements playing Mahjong together.”
“As it happens, we weren’t.”
“You know you can’t do that again, right? Partnering up with someone else’s Digimon is the definition of trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, except the peg is your soul and the hole is someone else’s soul. If you do it again, there’s no promises that you’ll survive.”
“Noted,” Yamato says. He taps his wrist-computer, switching the channel to an open one. “Guys, I have your locations, give me status reports.”
Sora speaks first. “Mimi and I are trying to keep numbers down on the west side of the island, but more keep coming through the Gate. We’re in danger of being overrun if this keeps up.”
“Hikari-chan and I are covering the north-west. It looks like the Valvemon are a lot heavier here,” Takeru says. “Guess they’re trying to take the shortest route to the shore. There’s hundreds of thousands of Troopmon, they’re swamping us with numbers alone.”
“The Troopmon have some kind of self-resurrection ability. They can reformat their data inside anywhere that counts as their own territory,” Yamato replies. “If you don’t take out the Valvemon first, the Troopmon’ll just keep coming.”
“I’ve been covering the eastern side of the island. Not many Valvemon here, but Gennai’s thrown a ton of Scubamon at us,” Taichi says.
“Also on the eastern side, back in the water with Submarimon. They’re not too difficult to pick off,” Iori says.
“Keep patrolling that side then, Iori,” Yamato says. “Daisuke, what about you?”
“I’ve been in the middle of the island. There were a bunch of Valvemon, but there’s barely any right now.”
“He’s sending them all to the western side, trying to focus his attention and break the line there,” Yamato says. “Daisuke, you and Magnamon swap places with Hikari and Angewomon on the western line. Taichi, Hikari, rendezvous with me.”
“We going after Gennai?” Taichi asks.
“He’s got to be the one holding the Gate open,” Yamato says. “Some tall building where he has a good view of what’s going on and can easily channel power up into the -- …”
“Le Meridien Grand Pacific Hotel,” Hikari says sharply. “Um. I can -- sense him.”
Yamato knows better than to question that. Hikari’s senses are rarely wrong.
“Then we rendezvous there.”
Hikari’s right. Then again, Hikari’s always right.
They converge on Le Meridien, Odaiba’s largest and most luxurious hotel, at the same time, Yamato and MetalGarurumon swooping in from one angle while Taichi and Hikari, settled on WarGreymon and Angewomon’s shoulders, come flying in from the other side.
Gennai, dressed in not just Ken’s shape but in the purple and gold finery of Ken’s time as the Emperor, doesn’t acknowledge them beyond a sidelong look, staying rooted in place with a digivice in his hand, pointed up at the sky.
It isn’t Gennai that Yamato is worried about. It’s what’s floating in the depths of the Gate above him, far enough away that it almost can’t be seen: Meicrackmon, her head lifted upwards and her arms outstretched, looking for all the world as if she’s in a trance.
MetalGarurumon speeds down towards Gennai, and Yamato sees his lips move, muttering a word. He barely has time to pull up and backwards before light explodes out of the Gate, materialising into five shapes.
One long, snakelike beast blocks MetalGarurumon’s path, swinging a heavy tail towards him and just barely missing. Behind it, two smaller shapes drop down around Gennai, surrounding him like bodyguards swarming around a VIP. Another shape shoots towards WarGreymon, and another for Angewomon, forcing them both back.
The light fades from the Digimon closest to them first, the three that forced them back, an antlered green dragon, some kind of glittering cowboy held aloft on solar panels, and some kind of gigantic collection of green spheres held together by golden struts, lacking any form of face apart from two red-lined lips.
“Majiramon,” Yamato’s analyser chirps. “Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Metal-element Holy Dragon Digimon.”
“Sateramon,” Taichi’s analyser follows up, still in Gennai’s cheerful voice. “Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Metal-element GPS Digimon.”
“Sephirothmon,” Hikari’s analyser continues. “Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Metal-element Mutant Digimon.”
As the light finally fades away in its entirety, Yamato finally gets a look at the two Digimon flanking Gennai. The blue wolf man, with a jet engine on his back and the attire of a pro-wrestler, feels almost like a personal jab at Gabumon, like someone domesticated him. The other, another bestial Digimon that looks like someone zombified a Leomon, feels like a jab at everyone else.
“MachGaogamon. Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Metal-element Cyborg Digimon.”
“Armed-MadLeomon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Metal-element Undead Digimon.”
They’re all flickering with glitched patches of texture, their edges faintly fuzzy with static. Infected, then, with the berserker power boost that involves.
“Gennai, just back down. Surrender, and we can talk this out. Negotiate something,” Hikari says, her tone level and even a little severe, Yamato thinks. “I don’t know what happened to you, but we can figure out a way to help you.”
Gennai says nothing, simply flicks his fingers, and as more streaks of light shoot out from the Gate and scatter around the island, the five Digimon around him throw themselves at the three of them.
Another Valvemon falls to a blast of fire, and Sora grips Hououmon’s talon tight as she spirals up into the air again. Nearby, Rosemon, with Mimi perched on her shoulder, takes down a swarm of Troopmon with a few lashes of her whip.
They’re preparing to go after more Valvemon when three bolts of purple light land near them, materialising into glitching, Infected Digimon.
“Mephismon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Dark-element Fallen Angel Digimon.”
“Beautymon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Dark-element Beauty Digimon.”
“Yatagaramon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Dark-element Bewitching Bird Digimon.”
“This can’t be good,” Sora mutters.
Daisuke doesn’t intend to ever admit it out loud, but he and Takeru are almost in sync. Almost.
Magnamon and Seraphimon compliment each other, with Magnamon’s rapid attacks creating openings for Seraphimon’s heavier ones, and the two of them cut through the Valvemon and scatter the Troopmon with surprising ease.
When three bolts of purple light streak over his head to land all around them, shaping themselves into the looming forms of Digimon, he gets the feeling that’s about to change.
“Matadormon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Wind-element Undead Digimon.”
“Velgrmon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Wind-element Giant Bird Digimon.”
“Fakemon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Wind-element Camouflage Digimon.”
Iori’s beaten back the Scubamon when two blasts of purple light crash through the ocean’s surface.
“Submarimon, scans,” he says, adjusting his position in his Digimon’s cockpit.
“Two Digimon just landed,” Submarimon replies. “More on the island.”
“Calamaramon. Perfect-level, Data-attribute, Water-element Aquatic Digimon.”
“Shawujinmon. Perfect-level, Virus-attribute, Water-element Demon Man Digimon.”
Yamato will say this for Gennai’s reinforcements: Despite their minds crumbling under the Infection, their teamwork is perfect. Part of him wonders if Gennai is somehow controlling them, occupying each of their minds and conducting them like an orchestra’s maestro.
Satellamon keeps his distance, firing on them with rapid fire, pinpoint-accurate blasts of energy, ensuring they’re always off balance, always distracted by avoiding his attacks. MachGaogamon harries MetalGarurumon, because even if he can’t keep up with MetalGarurumon, he has enough speed to pressure him, to make sure he can’t slow down even for a moment. MadLeomon, meanwhile, goes after WarGreymon, clashing against him in a battle of strength -- and every time WarGreymon seizes the upper hand, as he always does, a blast from Satellamon forces him into retreat. Majiramon and Angewomon wind around each other, trading blasts and spells, each one taking the upper hand sometimes, only to lose it again a moment later.
All the time, Meicrackmon hovers above them, past the Gate and into the roiling network space between worlds, as tendrils of shadow start to wind their way towards her on all sides. Yamato doesn’t have to check to know what those tendrils are, he can feel it: It’s the exact same energy as their Crests, harvested in tiny amounts from the stress, fear, and anger of every human on the planet.
“I’m going after Gennai,” he says, unlinking his senses from MetalGarurumon’s and clambering onto his feet, launching himself off the Digimon’s back. He mutters something into the ring on his finger as he falls, and the claws of stained glass snap around his arms and legs, his hair turning white as two more ears slide out of it.
Gennai’s ready for him. As he lands, there’s a sword in the older man’s hand, ready to parry his attack, twist, then send him reeling back with a blast of telekinetic force.
“Just so we’re clear,” Gennai says, as his form shifts from Ken’s to Taichi’s. “Even if you kill me here, it won’t change anything. The Odaiba Gate will close, you’ll have a moment of breathing room as my reinforcements stop coming through, but the flow of energy into Meicrackmon won’t stop. That’s already in motion, maintained by the Infected Digimon I placed around the globe.”
“We’ve got something planned for that.”
“Ah, your so-called cure? And the device that will distribute it far and wide?” Gennai asks. “I notice Koushiro Izumi isn’t among your numbers today. When are you expecting him back? Or do you have no idea when he’ll be returning, or if he’ll be returning, or if he and the others he took with him are even alive?”
Yamato sets his jaw. “He’ll be here.”
“I’m sure,” Gennai says wryly. “But here’s a history question for you. By now, I’m sure you’ve done your research, so you know that the Infection appeared once before, that it was the beginning of Apocalymon’s apotheosis. And if Koushiro and Miyako aren’t here, then they’ve realised that the light of the Crests can cure it, and have set themselves to the task of building an amplifier for it. So here’s a riddle for you: If the power of the Crests can completely purge the Infection, why didn’t they just do that in the first place?”
Yamato stops mid-step. It’s an involuntary action, and he curses it a moment later, because he knows Gennai saw it, and knows what it means. I don’t know.
“Would you like to know the answer, old friend? It’s a fair trade-off, I would say. Once upon a time, you were my teacher, after all,” Gennai says, “for all the good your lessons did me.”
“We’ll -- …”
“The power of the Crests can indeed cure Infected Digimon. If Koushiro returns, you can charge a wave that will cleanse every Infected Digimon it touches,” Gennai says grandly, gesturing with his hands. “Except Meicoomon. She isn’t just Infected, after all, she is the Infection, she is Apocalymon returned, in the flesh, an Idea clad in reality. And if you leave her alive, she’ll evolve it within her body, spread it again, and again.”
He smiled, cocking his head. “How arrogant of you to think that you could solve this problem and lose nothing. And it’s so much more galling for me to see, because I remember the exact same arrogance before, when you all released your power, believing so desperately that it would work -- only to find that black flame still festering in the corpse it was born in. Remember what I told you, Ishida: There are a thousand ways I can win, and only one way you can.”
The dark tendrils are getting closer and closer to Meicrackmon. WarGreymon lunges for the Gate from one side, Angewomon from another, MetalGarurumon from a third, but they find themselves blocked. The tendrils wind closer and closer, ready to jab into her at any moment, to kickstart an evolution.
“Avalon.”
The tendrils stab forward, only to rebound off a sphere of green light, formed out of overlapping magical circles and script, buzzing with energy. Yamato hasn’t seen that move before, but he recognises the Digimon who cast it, as it floats down through the swirling vortex of the Gate, arms outstretched.
After all, back when all this started, he and Taichi had faced off against it. Before they knew what Meicoomon was, when all they’d known was this towering, silent knight Digimon was willing to destroy a city to get to her, they’d formed Omegamon to battle against it.
“Alphamon,” his analyser says. “Ultimate-level, Vaccine-attribute, Light-element Holy Knight Digimon.”
Gennai’s form flickers from Taichi’s to Hikari’s, as he turns his gaze up towards the Gate. The tendrils of shadow bat at the shield around Meicrackmon, trying to penetrate it without success.
“Ah,” Gennai says. “So you’ve arrived at last.”