As Dirk awoke from a dreamless sleep, it was the sight of an unfamiliar sky that greeted him. His mind as clear as that sleep, it was only instinct that bid him to rise, pulling himself up into a sitting position as his eyes blinked open: fortunately, his body and muscles seemed full of life and vigor, and he was conscious and comprehending within moments. Not that there was much to be conscious and comprehending [i]of[/i]. As he sat up and the strange grey sky above disappeared into his peripheral vision, there was a severe dirth of anything else to fill his sight: fine white sands stretched away into a seemingly infinite distance, whilst nothing else besides him seemed to occupy the space between them and the sky. And, as he moved his vision downwards, a lack of something else came to his attention. Normally, Dirk might have reacted to the fact that he was as naked as the day he was born; but in that moment, something about it seemed oddly natural. Besides, it wasn’t as if there was anyone else around to see him. “I guess the shock finally wore off. Didn’t take as long as I expected, I’ll give you that.” At least, not until the voice appeared. Dirk looked up, and then sprung up to his feet with a start as he saw that company had arrived out of thin air. “I suppose you have questions.” Said company was an unfamiliar man: elderly, but with a few streaks of red hair amongst the ocean of gray. A pair of sunglasses made his features hard to discern: he could easily have been Asian, Caucasian, or something else entirely. Dirk, however, was more interested in why he got to keep his clothes. “Why am I naked?” One train of thought lead to another, and Dirk figured he might as well start with the obvious one. That same train of thought lead him to cover his crotch: being naked by his lonesome was one thing, but he didn’t want some weird old man checking him out. “You don’t take your clothes with you when you die.” And the answer came as bluntly as possible, causing Dirk’s train of thought to derail and crash. “Good grief, all the questions you could have asked, and you lead with that one. They weren’t kidding about you being a dumbass before you died.” What was this shitty old geezer talking about? He was dead? When? How? Why? But as his thoughts began to move again, his memories moved alongside them. It was hazy, perhaps thankfully so, but he could make out the grisly details as they rushed back into his head. After getting away from that rabid mutt, he and Impmon had made it to that other shitty old man’s office: and it was there that- “...!” Dirk’s hands instantly went to his neck, even as his throat went dry and clenched with horror at his realization. Perfectly smooth and unscarred: and, as he pulled his hands away and looked down at them, there wasn’t the faintest trace of any blood from a wound. “But I suppose I could stand to be a bit clearer.” And the old man started up again. “This is the ideal state of your soul at the time of your death, free of blemishes and wounds. If you so wish, you could cover yourself with but a thought.” At that, he gestured to his own clothes: a business suit, with an open-collared shirt. “And I’d encourage you to do so. This is about as uncomfortable for me as it is for you.” “Fuck off.” Christ, he just couldn’t catch a break today. “Alright, so I’m dead. Thanks for spelling that one out, pal. Now, if you don’t mind: where am I? How did I get here? And who the [i]fuck[/i] are you? Because if you have anything to do with that stupid set of triangles or those assholes who take forever to say nothing, you can piss off right now and let me go to Hell in peace.” “That’s more like it.” The man let out a ‘hmmph’ in amusement, and smiled with a lopsided, toothy grin. “Lucky for you, I don’t like keeping people hanging. To put it simply, you’re in the liminal space between your previous reality and the next. You’re here because whilst your body may have died, your partner’s is alive- at least, for now. Who I am doesn’t matter- and besides, the answer probably wouldn’t do you any good as you are now.” “... Hell’s that supposed to mean?” Dirk could only manage that much as the man answered him. Something about him seemed irritatingly familiar, although he couldn’t put his finger on it. So, instead, he shook his head and clarified: “Liminal space? If I’m such a dumbass, dumb it down for me, buddy.” “Right, I guess you didn’t survive long enough to figure your situation out beyond the basics.” The man shrugged. “I’ll let you off on that one, so I guess I owe you an explanation. A partnered Digimon will hatch from their egg with their memories intact, correct? A partnered human doesn’t have the same regenerative faculty, but their soul and consciousness can survive even if their body dies.” “... So I’m a ghost now?” The man’s explanation was surprisingly sensible, although everything else left him feeling as confused as before. Everything about this entire situation was bizarre, and he was only just keeping up. And now, his most pressing concern was: “Am I stuck like this, then? You said there’s another reality?” “This is just a halfway point between that world and yours, yes. If both the human and Digimon in a partnership die, they move to the next one and stay there until the universe decides that you’re needed.” At that, he added: “Of course, that means that so long as one lives, the other survives, whether they want to or not. I spent a long time waiting for my partner to join me, let me tell you that much.” “Hold on.” Once again, Dirk was grateful for the clarity of the explanation given, but there was still a lot being left unexplained. “Your partner? You’re a Tamer? [i]Were[/i] a Tamer?” But even beyond that: “How are you here if you moved on? Am I actually going to be stuck like this?” “Relax, kid.” Mercifully, the man shook his head to disavow Dirk of that idea. “I’m here because I hitched a ride with your friend. Dynasmon reduced himself to an egg fighting Millenniummon. When it evolved to Moon=Millenniummon and created the spacetime cocoon, one of the Dynasmon from the next world stepped in to help: and I stepped in to help you.” “You’re losing me here.” And straight back to nothing making sense. “What’s a Millenniummon? What’s a spacetime cocoon? And why is some shitty old man I’ve never met coming from some weird afterlife to help me?” “Alright, let’s get this in one go. Millenniummon is the artificial Digimon that Masashi Takeda, the man who killed you, created to elevate Japan to the status of a global superpower. Once it starts developing an actual intellect, it becomes powerful enough to warp time and space even before it reaches its completed state: and if that ever happens, it becomes powerful enough to hop between realities and destroy them.” “... Damn.” Now he wished he hadn’t asked. “Thankfully, things aren’t as bleak as they seem.” But the old man didn’t so much as miss a beat after that horrifying explanation. “Before it fully forms, Millenniummon is as vulnerable as any other Digimon. If you and your friends can stop its current form- Moon=Millenniummon- from completing its transformation, your world will be safe: at least, until next time.” But then, his expression darkened behind his glasses. “If not... that’s when we come in.” Before Dirk could question what he meant, the man raised his hand, and snapped his fingers. A moment later, and the world around them finally sprung into life. The sky was the first to change: first shifting from steely gray to a bright, dazzling blue: and then, before Dirk knew it, the sands beneath them became more and more distant as he and the old man seemed to rush upwards into the heavens above. Countless miles of blue tore by, but Dirk felt nothing but amazement as they climbed further and further into the sky: amazement that only grew as they passed the blue entirely, breaching into the dark expanse of space as the very stars themselves gleamed in the sky above. That amazement could only last so long, however. As he looked around, Dirk’s eyes fell upon what the man had meant to show him: and he felt them widen as his stomach churned. Before them was the solar system: and near the centre, Earth lay ruined. The beautiful blue sphere was covered by vast, dark red and grey clouds of ash and flame that smothered everything that hadn’t yet died. And reaching up out of that cloud, almost seeming a part of it with how its awful body billowed and undulated with the power coursing through it, was a two-headed dragon. One moment, it was ‘small’ enough that it only peered over the top of the atmosphere that it had choked with dirt and fire. The next, it grew so large that the sphere it had emerged from was swallowed up entirely in its vast, dark entrails, and the moon similarly disintegrated as it passed through one of its two great claws like a mote of dust swallowed up by the wind. It only continued to grow with every given moment as more and more matter was absorbed into it, and soon, the entire expanse of the now-ruined solar system was filled, the light of of its four baleful eyes replacing the sun that it had devoured as it turned its gaze elsewhere. Words failed Dirk as he gazed upon the scene. Amidst the infinite cascade of emotions that the sight provoked in him, he recognized one of them as similar to what he’d felt to look upon Kimeramon when it had first appeared before them all those months ago. But Kimeramon had still registered with him as a being, something they could overcome: this creature was different. ZeedMillenniummon [i]was[/i]. Takeda had hoped to create a new God to honour as the centrepiece of his restored nation: and he’d created a force of the universe that devoured and destroyed everything around it. But then, a new light appeared: and Dirk’s mouth fell agape. “Every time something like Millenniummon gets strong enough to endanger other realities, we step in to contain it.” As the man spoke, a new light appeared in the abyssal nightmare above them: one, and then many others following to surround the abomination that had swallowed up the star and its spheres. As they began to move in tandem, it became clear even without the man’s explanation that they were beings moving against the monstrosity: but their light was so brilliant that Dirk couldn’t discern anything about them. ZeedMillenniummon’s eyes lit up and the space around it filled with a deadly light for millions of kilometers around as it swatted at them with claws that ruptured nebulas and collapsed countless celestial bodies into clouds of smoke and dust with every swing. Every attack dealt irreparable damage and ravaged the universe around it: but against all odds, and against all of Dirk’s expectations, the lights around it only blazed brighter as they faded back in and out of reality to avoid the assault of their target, weaving around every hyperdestructive barrage like a trained fighter around the swings of a drunk. “The moment it fully develops, it becomes too powerful for us to properly defeat.” The man’s tone was dark, by contrast. But then came the “However”. The lights gathered, becoming one collective prominence that nearly blinded Dirk and sent the abomination they were fighting reeling with an infinitely reverberating shriek and an attempt to cover its eyes: and in that very moment, he understood what the man meant. In the one moment of hesitation that ZeedMillenniummon offered them, the collective body of lights drove themselves into the centre of its vast mass, disappearing deep into it. And then fresh, new light burst forth from the wound that they had left. ZeedMillenniummon’s shriek became a reality-warping roar that shook even the very frame of the universe around it: but another moment passed, and as the light formed into a distinct shape, so did the warping of the world around it cease. The beings of light emerged from the centre of the structure that they had installed into the abomination: before disappearing to a place beyond seeing. And though ZeedMillenniummon lashed out and voiced its undying hatred for the beings that had confined it, it could not follow: the light had formed fully now, into chains of code that bound it tight, and kept it sealed in the universe that it had ruined. “Of course, even if we stop the damage from spreading, countless people would have already died.” Once again, the sky changed: the scene of the wounded and imprisoned abomination fading back out into the steely gray of before. “By the time we move against it, it’s already too late: all we can do is make sure it stays in its own universe, and starves as everything goes cold. We can’t do anything to fully manifest against Millenniummon: but there are things we can do to turn the tide back before it strikes- and that’s why I’m here.” And the man turned to look directly at Dirk, his eyes clearly steeled and serious even behind his dark glasses. “If you get back out there, you can spare your world this fate. Dynasmon came because there was an opening for him. I came with him because someone had to get you back to your partner before it was too late. This may be all I can do: but even the slightest edge may be all you need to send that monster screaming back into oblivion.” Once again, Dirk had too many questions. But this time, even he could tell that they didn’t matter: in the face of what he’d just seen, nothing mattered. “So I need to go find Impmon and stop this… thing from destroying the entire universe. We can do that, right?” “It won’t be easy, but it’s possible.” The man nodded to Dirk. “In my time, someone told me that he got through his own encounter with Millenniummon by reminding himself of one simple fact. The world might change, and fate might come calling, but the future will always be there for you so long as you’re willing to fight for it.” “No fate but what we make, right?” This time, it was Dirk’s turn to nod. “Alright, old man. All I need to do is get back out there, find Impmon, and victory’s as good as ours?” “Like I said, it won’t be easy. But I know you- and everyone else- can make it.” But the dark expression on the old man’s face returned. “When you get out there, you’re going to see things. Even before you find your partner, you’re going to have to stand your ground. And from what you told me yourself: you’ve got a lot to answer for.” “... Do I know you, old man?” Alright, even with the inspiration, something about the man seemed annoyingly familiar. It wasn’t just the reminder of his previous encounters with the mysterious entities of the Digital World: something about him seemed much more personally familiar. “Because you sure as hell seem to think you know me.” “You may, or you may not. It all depends on whether you can make it through this fight.” But whatever the truth was, it didn’t seem like he was going to be privy to it. Instead, the dark expression softened and the man pointed to behind Dirk: and turning, he saw a breach appear in the otherwise blank world around them. “We’ll meet again, one way or another. Who knows. I might even get to tell you who I am if you’re ready enough by then.” That got the old man chuckling: but then he shook his head. “Now, go. They need you, and you need them.” Through the breach, Dirk could see the state of the world he’d left behind: or, rather, he would have seen it, if not for the thick fog that swallowed it up. Already, he could tell that the man wasn’t trying to scare him as he stared into the portal to the developing hellscape. But fear had never stopped him before: and neither had common sense. They weren’t going to stop him now, not if the others needed him. “You fucking better, you old geezer.” And with those last words, Dirk leapt through the hole between realities and back into the world of the living. And as it closed behind him, leaving the old man alone, it was with a slowly-fading farewell of “I swear, next guy who tries being vague with me is getting a boot so far up their ass-” ___ “Of course, turns out he wasn’t kidding.” Beelzemon had completely dissociated from everything going on around him long ago. Even as pain from the situations his movement across the timeline landed him in continued to jolt at him, he could only remain in stunned silence as the voice of his dead partner spoke to him. “When I first got here, I ended up in the same situation you’re in now.” Without a body of his own, Dirk couldn’t shiver or shudder at the recollection: but his tone of voice was enough to suggest that what he’d seen had shaken him to his core. “But after some time, I made it through and got to you. Moon=Millenniummon… Hah. Old geezer was right about something else. It’s not impossible to beat. It may be powerful, and it may be smart, but it doesn’t understand other living beings. It doesn’t understand that people don’t see things in black and white: or let facts get in their way.” Beelzemon couldn’t glare at the voice, but he let his silence speak for him. After the initial shock of the voice identifying itself faded, indignance had rushed in to replace it: so, the idiot hadn’t quite got himself killed, after all. That was one thing, leaving him stuck with a simpleton that even death couldn’t rid him of, but the bullshit he’d proceeded to spew after identifying himself was another. “You expect me to believe any of this crap?” For the first time in a while, Beelzemon broke his silence to directly scorn Dirk. “No one Digimon could be that powerful! This is just an illusion, and soon as I’m out of it I’m gonna stick my claws down that damn cat’s throat and take my Crest back, leave all those other idiots to clear up while I enjoy my freedom.” “No, you’re not.” Dirk wasn’t shaken by his partner’s response. “I didn’t want to believe it, either, but he was right. Even now, can’t you feel everything that’s happening to you? This is more than an illusion. This thing’s got the fabric of time and space in its grubby little hands, and if we sit around wasting any more time, it’ll be tearing them up. Stop pretending to be something you’re not and-” “Something I’m not? What the fuck do you know about me?” But neither was Beelzemon by Dirk’s words. “I told this to the cat and his little buddy, but you only met the me that that asshole made when he sealed my memories away. This is who I am, you worthless sack of meat: I am Beelzemon, the Demon Lord of Gluttony.” If it were possible, he’d be spitting with rage and disgust. ”Your worthless friend was just a fake someone thought they could control long enough t-” “Bullshit.” Beelzemon paused. As blindingly angry as he was, there was no mistaking the conviction in that voice. “Excuse me?” “You may have lost your memories, but the Digimon I knew all these months was no fake. You’re just like I was, Beelzemon. Putting up barriers and refusing to be sincere because you’re tired of losing, tired of being hurt. Why do you think we got stuck together?” “Ridiculous. What have I got to hide? Life bit me, so I bit back: and I bit it so hard that nobody had the balls to fuck with me.” Now Beelzemon was [i]sure[/i] that Dirk was bluffing. “Trusting others only ever holds you back- or worse, gets you killed! I got dragged into the Dark Area with all those idiots and savages, and you got your head cut off. The difference is, I picked myself back up and got on my own two feet. What about you? All you ever did was get yourself hurt again and again, never learning anything!” “You’re wrong-” “You kept charging into danger, treating your life like it wasn’t worth anything- you almost got me killed too, with that stupid fucking stunt you pulled with Omegamon!” “Beelzemon, listen-” “You bared your heart to that stupid girl, chasing after her like an animal after a meal, and then acted like it was her fault that you were stupid enough to expect something in return- like you didn’t deserve it for being such a sniveling little shit.” “Please, listen-” “Hell, like I said! Only reason you’re here right now is because you were stupid enough to get yourself killed!” Frothing at the mouth all but in reality, Beelzemon finished. “Don’t you ever compare yourself to me. I made my own way in life, expecting nothing but what I could take with my own two hands. You’re just some shitty little brat who had his big break fall into his lap and expected everything to fall into place after that. A little rat that got itself killed biting off more than it could chew!” “... You’re right.” “Hmmph.” Beelzemon huffed triumphantly. “See, that wasn’t h-” “No, you’re right about me.” But Dirk was quicker: and this time, the conviction returned to his voice, even as it began to crack with emotion. “Like I said, Beelzemon, I saw things when I came back to the world, too. All that time I convinced myself I was being strong, doing what nobody else could so that they didn’t have to- I was being selfish. I wanted people to care about me on my own terms, see me how I wanted them to see me. Everything I did, I did to make that happen: to keep them from seeing the real me. I hurt myself to convince them that I was strong enough to take it. To convince myself the same thing. And you know what? It’s exactly what you did, you bastard.” Once again, Beelzemon growled with fury. But Dirk was having none of it. “Taking and doing what you want, consequences be damned- you think it makes you strong? It makes you a coward, using power to hide from reality. To hide from your real feelings. Just like me, you hurt yourself and others to convince yourself that you weren’t weak: but you realized that, eventually, didn’t you?” Beelzemon readied himself to roar back. But then he felt himself freeze up. The dissociation he’d forced himself into as he yelled back and forth with the voice of his former Tamer gave way to the recreated reality of Moon=Millenniummon’s temporal prison. And all words failed him as he beheld what awaited him. ___ The sight of the Dark Area was nothing new to Beelzemon. An entire world lurking beneath the surface of a sphere distant from its star: the recreation of the ancient Digital World’s subterranean landscape, vast, dark and cold if not for the efforts of those who were imprisoned there to make it habitable. In the distance, the fires and lights of desperate settlements lit up the otherwise-impenetrable darkness that surrounded them on all sides, illuminating stalagmites and stalagmites that jutted up and down for lengths of entire kilometers. But the light that bore down on Beelzemon now, freezing his soul with terror, was all on account of the being that looked down on him. The creature’s golden, dazzling brilliance obscured details of its form, perhaps intentionally: but there was no mistaking what its figure resembled, nor the structure that spread down from the void that opened behind it. “I will be clear with you, my child. I have not approached you because of your strength.” The giant spider’s mandibles remained stationary as it spoke: the voice that washed over the Demon Lord before it emanated from some disembodied psychic wavelength, much like that of Examon and that abominable insect they’d fought. “If I sought the most powerful of your pack, I’d have not given you a second thought before Lucemon caught my eyes.” “Then why?” Beelzemon began to speak, even as the Beelzemon of the present was rendered speechless by the awesome, awful sight before him. “Why me?” “Because I see something in you, child.” Extending a metallic, ornate limb, the being pressed it to Beelzemon’s head before he could even perceive the movement: and although the Beelzemon of the present only winced at the phantom pain, he soon froze as his past self [i]screamed[/i] with pain and anguish. “The others may have their qualms, but they’ve chosen their paths.” The golden spider was unmoved, even as Beelzemon collapsed to his knees. “But you’re different. A glutton, only destroying and consuming to fill a void within yourself. You’ve made your bed, and you’ve laid in it, as you mortals say: but I wonder if you’d make the same mistakes if I gave you a second chance?” “... So this is what you meant?” Beelzemon’s torpor was interrupted by the return of Dirk’s voice. The change in surroundings seemed to have caught him off-guard as well: the conviction in his voice was now overshadowed by horror akin to Beelzemon’s own. “This... thing got to you?” “...No… This isn’t how I remember…” Beelzemon finally found his voice again: “Please.” But the desperate, begging plea of his past self stopped him cold once more. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m sick of this! I’m sick of hurting people, and I’m sick of devouring everything!” Beelzemon felt his stomach clench: not from the horror he was feeling, but from shame and remorse. “And I’m sick of watching the same happen to everyone else around me, watching them turn into monsters more and more with every passing day! Please, if you’ve decided against helping them, at least let me!” “It’s like I said.” Dirk sounded shaken too: whatever truth he’d realized, seeing it laid bare was frightening. “It’s not an illusion, it’s the past, exactly as it happened.” “Very well, then.” And the spider spoke once more, as countless webs of light erupted from the point on Beelzemon’s head that it had touched. Both Beelzemon, past and present, screamed: but to no avail as the webs enveloped him amidst the angry burning of his Crest. “I will grant you reprieve from here, and set you loose to make a fresh start. Come, child. There is much work to be done.” And the world changed once again as Beelzemon’s consciousness faded out. ___ “... I wasn’t quite expecting that.” “Just go away.” Beelzemon couldn’t even force himself to be angry any more. Sounding more weak and defeated by the moment, all he could muster up was: “I started off weak, and nothing ever changed. Just let me rot in here, then maybe I won’t feel it when that thing kills me.” He heard Dirk sigh, but didn’t respond. He was about to dissociate back into blissful ignorance, when- “There’s no running this time, you little rat.” Beelzemon flinched: but then froze up anew. That voice didn’t belong to Dirk. No, that was- Words failed him as he focused on his surroundings and confirmed his fears. Wherever he was, his vision was fully consumed by the dark shape that pinned him to the ground. Two silver limbs, a distressing synthesis of anthropoid and arthropod, gripped his arms and pulled them to either side with force just shy of sufficient to shatter his bones and dislocate his joints. Beyond them, eight legs rested stationary, each one’s silhouette clear enough to reveal the bizarre jaw-like structures that adorned the topmost joint of each. Behind the sheer bulk of its face and his own failing vision, the body that made up the remainder of the being was obscured: but the dark blue mask-like crest that rested atop that face and the two sigils etched into it in red and green were sufficient to identify the being and instill the appropriate amount of fear. “... Beelzemon, is this thing anything to do with what we just saw?” Even Dirk couldn’t mask the horror that the sight instilled in him. There was no escaping it: the very presence of the monstrous being radiated menace that sent both of their instincts ablaze. “Killing me isn’t going to accomplish anything, Yinzhumon.” But miraculously, that fear didn’t seem to extend to the version of Beelzemon pinned by the monstrous silver spider. If anything, he seemed [i]tired[/i] of the sight of him. “He used us both. Like it or not, we have to own up to that fact.” “That’s all well and good for you, but it changes nothing for me.” Miraculously indeed, as the space beneath the being’s mask opened up to reveal a pair of massive fangs: and grotesque, seemingly infinite rows of lamprey-like teeth behind them, a horrible mouth that let out a low, angry growl in an animalistic tone entirely divorced from the creature’s disembodied voice. “That bastard’s taken something important to me- something important to the both of us.” At that, a second, unfamiliar voice overlaid itself on on Yinzhumon’s scarily smooth tone. A moment later, however, it disappeared as the spider continued. “So talk, Beelzemon. Before you become the second Lord of Gluttony who only wished I’d killed them.” “Look, I don’t know anything more than you-” Yinzhumon tightened his grip at that, and Beelzemon barely held his composure together as those terrible fangs began to glisten with a black essence- “But listen to me.” And yet, the Beelzemon of that time was unshaken, even as he grimaced at the pain. “I lost my own Tamer, once- and even if he’s not gone, I remember how it felt- what it did to me. Those kids- yours and Chronomon’s. We still have a chance to save them.” “Not for long, if you don’t talk.” Yinzhumon let out another animalistic growl of rage. Only this time, his smooth tone cracked with the same rage: and what seemed to be a hint of anguish, as he tightened his grip enough to finally squeeze one of Beelzemon’s arms from his socket. “Fuck!” And finally, Beelzemon’s own composure came close to matching that of his present self as he let out a scream of his own. “Christ, when did you get so goddamn emotional?” [i]And again, as the other Beelzemon continued to tempt the fate hanging above him.[/i] But against all logic, the grip of those disturbingly human pedipalps loosened. And then Yinzhumon spoke again, in a softer tone. “He said what’s common nature for mortals is a disease for the likes of him and I, right?” The fangs retracted, and the jaws beneath the mask closed up again as the spider sighed. “I don’t see it quite the same way, but I’ve been infected all the same. It’s not just those kids- it’s everyone I’ve met since I woke up again. And I’ll let Daemon burn me down to nothing again before I let that bastard wipe all that away for his ridiculous ideas.” “Then let me help you.” And this time, as the other Beelzemon spoke, it was in a similarly soft tone. “I may not know any more than you about where that monster took them- but I remember how it felt to lose my own Tamer. No-one deserves to feel that way, and if I can do anything to spare them it, I will. I know what being around humans does to things like us, Yinzhumon: you’ve nothing to be ashamed of.” “... This can’t be real.” And the present Beelzemon spoke for the first time since he’d realized what was happening. And yet, he felt Yinzhumon finally release his grip as, terrifyingly enough, the spider began to [i]chuckle[/i]. “Never said I was ashamed, Beelzemon.” Slowly, but surely, the spider’s silver body rippled and began to melt away, retracting back into a smaller body that began to form before the Demon Lord’s eyes. “They said I shouldn’t be so quick to distrust people- and maybe that’s another part of them that I have to take to heart. I have to say, at the very least, I never thought I’d feel guilty for breaking your arm.” “Don’t sweat it.” The other Beelzemon’s tone was slightly gingery, but he managed a chuckle of his own as a black aura stitched the broken bone back together in an instant, and as he climbed back up to his feet to face the newly-formed humanoid figure before him. “What can I say, time makes fools of us all.” And then, as he shook his head to compose himself, he added the words that finished the present Beelzemon off once and for all. “I never thought I’d actually be happy to rely on someone else.” ____ Wherever or whenever Beelzemon’s timeline took them to after that, it didn’t matter. As his meeting with Yinzhumon faded out, both he and Dirk fell quiet for a while: both waiting for the other to break the silence. “I’m sorry, Dirk.” And with a voice strained with emotion, and finally cracked down to a soft, tired tone Beelzemon- no, [i]Impmon[/i] was first to go. “I’m so, so sorry.” The colour and motion of their surroundings slowed down and faded out. Static swallowed up Impmon’s vision, and gigantic cracks blasted through the increasingly obscured world to let the light of reality back in, a figure became visible to him at long last: a figure as welcome as the light itself. “Don’t be.” And with rare tears running down his face, Dirk managed a smile despite the emotion he was awash with. “Welcome back, you little idiot.”