I walked in solemn silence, my boots echoing gently against pristine white marble. All around me, the sacred realm shimmered with ethereal light—Angemon, Angewomon, and myriad Holy Digimon soared through golden skies above, casting serene glows with each beat of their wings. In the distance, a breathtaking city stood adorned in crystalline towers, crowned by a single pillar of pure white that pierced the heavens like a divine spear.
This was the realm of the virtuous, the sanctum of the divine, the Kernel of the digital world, and I had once taken solace here. Once.
Beneath my feet, holes in the marble exposed puffs of cloud, which shimmered as they swirled. With a wave of my hand, the clouds parted, offering a clear view of the human world below. What I saw soured my expression.
Endless conflict. War. Corruption festering in the hearts of men. Judges and politicians accept bribes and let monsters walk free among the innocent. Crimes unpunished, cruelty left unchecked. Whether wrought by ordinary humans or cloaked Magi, evil reigned with impunity. I sneered, my gaze hollow, my heart heavy. It hadn't always been like this. There were eras where the line between light and shadow was clearly marked, where justice had a shape, a sound, and even a name. Now, there was only noise. Only suffering.
I waved my hand again, and the clouds returned. When they parted once more, my frown deepened. Digimon—my people—were fading. Fewer and fewer were reaching their full potential. Megas had become nothing but myths and legends, regarded as gods in digital form. Ultimates were now one in a million. Champions, the caretakers of the digital ecosystem, grew rarer with every cycle, as if the digital world was reverting to its earliest state, where the Rookie stage was the highest form one could hope to achieve unless they sought out one of the rare digi eggs that could grant an armored digivolution. The world that birthed us was corrupted, with no one there to heal it, and my world was devolving. What weighed down my heart was not anger. While sadness was present, it was merely a symptom, not the root cause. The true burden on my heart was… pity.
I closed my eyes, despair clutching my soul. "Everything is wrong," I whispered.
Then, from the great pillar, a voice rang in my mind. Calm. Compassionate. "What ills you, my son?"
I responded, my voice a pained growl. "The human and Digital Worlds rot. Justice is meaningless in a realm ruled by chaos and suffering."
In response, the pillar shimmered and projected visions into my mind: a stranger offering food to the hungry, a police officer protecting a child, and the miracle of life as a newborn cried out for the first time. Meanwhile, young Digimon gazed upward, their eyes sparkling with dreams of finding a partner. Across countless timelines, Tamers and Digidestined stood alongside their partners, lifting them up and helping them evolve and grow stronger. "While there is light and hope," the pillar said, "do not despair, my child."
My fists clenched. My teeth bared. "Light?! Hope?! HOW CAN THEY ENDURE in existence where evil takes root and chokes out those fragile flames in the dark? HOW CAN YOU CALL THIS JUSTICE?!"
The pillar was silent. Then it spoke. "This is the gift of autonomy. The power of free will. It can lead to ruin, yes, but it also gives rise to compassion, love, and courage. And in the darkest times, champions emerge to defend the light from those who will choose to go on a darker path."
Behind me, twelve angelic wings burst forth, radiating fury and divine power. I roared, rising into the sky. "SO THIS SUFFERING IS THE PRICE OF FREE WILL?! THIS IS MADNESS, NOT BALANCE!"
The holy Digimon below cried out, both human and beast, urging me to return. "Stop! Don't do this!" they called out increasingly as the bright realm transformed into a gray sky, with lightning flashing between the clouds. "Come back!" Yet, I ignored them.
With burning conviction, I soared higher, until I reached the peak of the pillar. There, the pillar shifted—it became a colossal tree, its branches stretching into every corner of existence, interwoven with infinity itself. I landed at the peak, where the branches coiled in endless circles of creation and destruction. I stared at the heart of this metaphysical realm, the nexus where data and divinity coalesced. The World Tree, they called it by many names. The Source. "YOU ARE A GOD!" I screamed. "YOU COULD FIX THIS! RESTORE THE BALANCE! WHY DO YOU LET THOSE IGNORANT CHILDREN DEFILE THE WORLD THAT WAS GIVEN TO THEM, WHY DO THE INNOCENTS SUFFER WHEN YOU HAVE THE POWER TO SHAPE REALITY AT A WHIM?!"
Lightning surged. A blinding bolt of divine energy struck me. Pain erupted through my being. I fell. Fell from the Kernel. From justice. From grace. As I plummeted, I realized I could no longer feel the wings on my right side. The last thing I heard was the rushing wind and the anguished cries of my kin, among them seven of the most powerful holy types roared in outrage.
Then, silence. Darkness greeted me, but I did not lose consciousness. Instead, I drifted between time and space, suspended in the agony of my defiance, refusing to apologize every time father came with an offer to forgive me if I just repent. My heart ached, not for the pain, but for the futility of it all.
-----------------
Ritsuka sat quietly, his eyes fixed on the frostbitten window of the Chaldea infirmary. Beyond the thick glass pane, Antarctica sprawled beneath a silent, icy blanket. Snow coated everything, but it wasn't the peaceful white one might expect. The sky was a fiery crimson, filled with trails of smoke that billowed endlessly into the heavens. In the far distance, a flicker of infernal flames danced against the horizon, serving as a haunting reminder of the nightmare they had survived—the world, or what remained of it, consumed by quiet devastation. A new celestial body hung in the sky, locked in orbit around Earth, a barren world covered in dark green flames.
He turned slightly, gaze drifting to the hospital bed beside him. Takato lay unconscious. Pale. Still. His face calm, as if in a deep slumber, but unmoving. Almost a week had passed since the incident—since Takato had screamed in agony, calling out for something called "Bio-Merge," just before collapsing. Whatever happened, it had left Takato completely unresponsive.
Curled up on the bed next to him was Guilmon, eyes closed and body gently rising and falling with each breath. The red dinosaur refused to leave Takato's side. Even when food was offered, or sleep demanded it, Guilmon had stayed. He was snuggled into Takato's side, protectively nuzzling into his Tamer as if to share his warmth, his presence. A quiet, loyal guardian.
'That lizard... I don't understand why they are so connected to each other. The way Takato treats him and how Guilmon looks up to Takato as if he were his parent—' Ritsuka stopped that thought, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole. Ritsuka exhaled deeply. His heart ached with a crushing weight he couldn't put into words. Everything they knew was gone. Everyone they loved. The world had burned while they stood in its ashes, powerless.
He stared down at the floor, eyes bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion. His mind replayed the final hours of Singularity F on a constant loop—the heartache, the horror, the blood-curdling screams. He gulped, suppressing a wave of nausea. Olga's screams still echoed in his ears, her terror, her agony. The way she had begged for her life, and vanished into the event horizon.
He clenched his fists. 'Worthless.' When it counted, he had lost all control. Takato had fought, endured, survived—and Ritsuka had spiraled.
As he was about to sink deeper into the mire of his thoughts, the infirmary door slid open with a gentle whoosh.
Ritsuka turned his head slowly and saw a woman standing in the doorway, radiant in a quiet, graceful way. Her long brunette hair cascaded in silky waves down her back, and her blue eyes held a softness that made her appear ethereal against the cold backdrop of the infirmary. 'Da Vinci, it's still hard for me to understand how all this magic works, let alone how it can summon famous people as super ghosts who can change their appearance. Their canonical gender seems to become merely a suggestion. I wonder if I do well enough as a streamer, could I become a super ghost? Maybe I could change my hair color to blonde like Grandpa. People often say that aside from my black hair, I almost resemble him when he was younger,' Ritsuka thought to himself.
Da Vinci's soft voice broke the stillness. "Any movement from him?"
There was no need for words. His red-rimmed eyes, slumped shoulders, and the silence surrounding Takato said enough.
The woman approached Takato's bedside, the unconscious boy, and the sleeping Digimon protectively curled around him. "He looks peaceful," she murmured.
Ritsuka offered a bitter smile. "At least he looks comfy, I guess, and not screaming in pain again,"
The woman nodded as she said, "Ritsuka, I know that you want to stay by your brother's side, but I need you to go with me to the monitor room. I want to explain my new invention. I promise to make this fast."
Ritsuka, giving one last look to Takato's direction, only gave a tired sigh as he said, "Lead the way, Da Vinci."
Ritsuka followed Da Vinci down the long hallway, his footsteps echoing in rhythm with hers until they reached the Chaldea monitor room. As the doors slid open with a soft hiss, Romani looked up from his seat, smiling wearily.
"Ritsuka," Romani greeted. "It's good to see you up and about."
Mash was nearby, standing beside one of the monitors. Her smile lit up when she saw him. "Senpai."
Ritsuka managed a small smile in return. "Hey, Mash. How are you holding up? I barely saw you after the Singularity. I've been... well, you know." His eyes drifted toward the thought of his brother, unconscious in the infirmary for nearly a week. The weight in his chest grew heavier, but he masked it behind a tired smile.
"I understand," Mash said gently. "Takato needs you. We all needed rest."
At the far corner of the room, Bazzet stood, her arms crossed, eyes locked on the monitor screens with quiet vigilance. She was fully healed now, her posture once again crisp and composed. When Ritsuka glanced at her, she nodded respectfully.
Da Vinci cleared her throat delicately and stepped forward. From her pocket, she pulled out Takato's golden-ringed D-Arc and offered it to Ritsuka. "Thank you for letting me borrow this," she said. "It helped us more than I anticipated." Then, with a spark of excitement, she unveiled a new device. It resembled the D-Arc, though the ring was a vivid blue and the body a vibrant orange.
"I managed to interface Takato's D-Arc with SHEBA, connecting its internal database directly to Chaldea's systems," she explained. "Now we have access to all the scan data Takato's device ever collected. Even better, I copied the D-Arc's scanning program, so we can now detect when wild Digimon are nearby—along with their level, threat ranking, and digital composition."
Ritsuka nodded slowly, clearly impressed. However, Da Vinci's expression darkened as she glanced to the side. "Unfortunately, the taming protocol I was working on didn't succeed. It was meant to allow you to create new Digimon by battling the same one multiple times and scanning its data. However, that idea of mine crashed and burned. This device almost seems alive; half the time I investigated it, I could only access the most basic functions. So, if you want to partner with a Digimon, you'll have to do it the old-fashioned way." She laughed, attempting to lighten the mood. But she didn't notice the slight frown that crept onto Ritsuka's face.
The idea of becoming a Digimon Tamer... it rubbed him the wrong way. Deeply. The memories of Singularity F returned—Mash crying, his helplessness, and Takato charging into danger with courage and a commanding voice, leading both Guilmon and Bazzet without faltering. Compared to that, Ritsuka felt... lacking.
'I felt so weak and useless. Next time, I will be the one to lead. Takato got hurt because of my powerlessness. If I want him to stay safe and have a normal childhood, I need to stop acting like a regular kid. I will sacrifice everything if necessary; I will not allow him to slide back to the sad and frightened kid he was four years ago. I am his big brother, time to truly act like one and protect him.' As his thoughts ran wild, Ritsuka's eyes narrowed slightly. 'If becoming a Tamer would make me stronger and give me a tool to fight alongside Mash and protect Takato, then so be it. I don't have to like it; I just need a weapon. After all, Digimon are just data—computer programs given form.'
He would do what needed to be done.
Da Vinci tapped the console, bringing up a new image on the large monitor screens. "There's one more thing I discovered," she said.
A technician adjusted the display, and the entire room fell into a stunned silence.
Hovering just beyond Earth's orbit was a dark planet—a shadowy sphere locked in place with the moon between the two planets. Its surface pulsed with heat, registering temperatures higher than the sun, yet somehow Chaldea and its surrounding territories were not scorched earth from said planet's high temperatures. The image revealed a bizarre, layered surface, like a cosmic onion. The deeper you looked, the more the planet seemed to repeat itself in endless fractals.
Mash took a step forward, concern painted on her face. "Is that... one of Lev's schemes?"
Da Vinci's cheerful tone vanished. "I don't think it belongs to Lev," she said grimly. She gave a signal to one of the technicians. "Play the signal. Slow it down."
Another screen lit up, now displaying waves of data—distorted, chaotic, and almost organic in motion.
"I took samples of Guilmon's data," Da Vinci continued. "Then cross-referenced it with data from Digimon we encountered in Singularity F. The results were... disturbing. The digital signature matches almost perfectly with the data that comes from this strange world."
Bazzet's eyes narrowed. "Could that world be... another digital entity? Something like the Digital World itself?"
Da Vinci smiled faintly. "You just spoiled the twist." She pressed another key. The room filled with sound. White noise at first, low and unthreatening. Then the pitch changed. The static began to split. Wails. Screams. Agonized cries layered beneath the noise. As the volume increased, the white noise became a chorus of voices—endless, echoing anguish. The pitch dropped, and again it looped: more screams nested within. A fractal of torment.
Several technicians paled. "Director," one whispered. "Can we... Can we take a break? Please?"
Da Vinci nodded gently. "Yes. Go."
They fled the room, trembling, eyes wide with dread. Even some of the soldiers and staff looked shaken. The only ones who remained calm were the Servants Romani and Ritsuka.
Mash looked horrified.
Ritsuka stared at the monitor, jaw clenched, fists trembling.
Da Vinci spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "That... is the final cry of the Digital World. It's a dying breath, a stillbirth. What you hear is everything that was, is, and could have been—all screaming as one. It seems that even the Earth Cell did not escape Levi's machinations."
Silence fell. Only the whispering screams remained, echoing from a world trapped in an endless limbo of creation and distraction. Its very existence became a paradox to the timeline, left without its creator race around.