👎♋❒&, 👎♋❒&♏❒, ✡♏⧫ 👎♋❒&♏❒ (Sci) [Mission Companion]

Yeah, this thing had clearly gone off the deep end ages ago. That was apparent as soon as Isaac saw the screen that the Ebemon had passed to him. As soon as the boy saw the first picture, he wanted to vomit. Digimon, when injured badly enough, tended to disperse into clouds and strings of data. Maybe they degenerated, maybe they just vanished into the wind. It was unnerving seeing a living being unravel like that, but it was far preferable to the dismemberment and dissolution that Isaac was seeing now. Digimon shouldn't look like that. There was something fundamentally wrong with it. And that was before considering the imagery, of these great beasts lying in bloody, red goop.

Large or small, weak or powerful, it seemed none could escape the D-Reaper's clutches. And Isaac had wandered right into its innermost sanctum.

The Ebemon didn't seem to be in control of the situation. It didn't even seem to be in control of itself, enthralled by the awe-inspiring destruction that the reaper wrought. When Isaac pressed the issue and the Ebemon merely continued the same rambles that it had made long before, Isaac knew he wouldn't likely gain any useful intel out of it. At the same time, its computers weren't much more help. The language they were in, beyond the names of the Digimon, made absolutely no sense to Isaac. He could see a few inputs, but he had no clue what any of them would do. It was unlikely that any were dangerous, even if a cursory examination of them was what opened such a grotesque gallery in the first place. After all, it was just a data terminal. Worst case scenario, he accidentally erased something, and there was no way a deletion would be anything but one of the last two input prompts. Maybe if he fiddled with the device enough times, he'd be able to find some usable information.

What else could he do but press each input in order, taking care only to avoid the last ones on the list? It was the only way he would gain any headway in this research. Knowledge was power, and he would need all the power he could get to survive his time the D-Reaper's sphere. Braving horrifying sights and confusing words was a small price to pay to make it to his friends in one peace.

Well, girlfriend. And brother.

"If you can call it learning," Isaac remarked, dismissive of the Ebemon's statement. "Looks more like it's eating to me. What's it gonna do when it's 'learned' too much, and there's nothing left?

You know, why are you here, anyway? How did you get here?"

Maybe that was a touch hypocritical of Isaac, stuck in a similar situation, to ask. However, whereas his gut reaction suggested exasperation, his brain realized that maybe this question would prove an unexpected boon. If there was a way in, there had to be a way out. If he could decipher these crazy ramblings, finding it could be so much easier.

Isaac had to suppress a disgusted noise. These weren't still images. The images, or more accurately videos, were still moving, developing, and changing. The were decaying. The bar on the bottom made it obvious, as it tracked the integrity of each Digimon's code with a cold, clinical precision. The fact that the core was already dilapidated meant that this wasn't as simple as touch D-Reaper, get burned, either. It meant that the D-Reaper's goo seemed to bore into the Digimon's very being, the decay of their bodies seemingly a consequence of their core's own rotting. Would he and the others need to be checked out after this, in case the goo had gone past surface level and already started to eat away at them? What would happen to his real, very human body? Touching the D-Reaper seemed like more bad news than Isaac could have ever predicted, provided that his theorizing was correct. And the progress bars had yet to be completed, either, so it seemed whatever studying the D-Reaper was doing had yet to be completed. Perhaps it, too, was studying the archives. Or perhaps things were a bit more real time than Isaac figured. So many ideas were running through Isaac's head right now. They all paled in comparison to the loudest:

Oh, fuck, I'm watching a snuff film.

He could barely hear Datamon poking into his brain over the pounding of his own thoughts, his attempts at rational analysis and situational awareness giving way to a solid wall of holy craps. Whatever mechanism Datamon used to speak with Isaac brain-to-brain, there was no way he wouldn't notice the boy's distress and disgust. He winced away from the screens for a second, as if thinking that the decay was happening right this second made it a special kind of taboo. He wanted to run, but there was no way to escape. He wanted to fling himself at the sicko enjoying the footage, but he knew he'd have to go all the way to Orochimon just to stand a ghost of a chance. Even then, against a full-fledged Mega, he knew it would be futile. For once in his life he tried to force his burning blood to stay still, almost physically pained by this self-affirmation of helplessness. The more he learned about Ebemon, the more the echo chamber started to look preferable.

Thankfully, though, Datamon managed to break through Isaac's thoughts. He was offering to translate, a possibility that both terrified and interested him. On one hand, he would have a ton of information to share with Datamon, as well as the ability to bring up his own theories about the D-Reaper. Being able to filter his thoughts through somebody who actually had book smarts, along with knowledge of how Digimon worked, would be critical, and Ebemon's files likely didn't exist anywhere else. The resulting knowledge could be a groundbreaking weapon against the D-Reaper. On the other hand, the videos were horrific enough. Did he really want to read through the sickening commentary sure to accompany them? He was unsure his constitution could handle it, when even the videos in their own right made him want to start heaving.

Nevertheless, part of being a spirit user was stepping up to the plate. This, too, was his role. Shaking his head slightly to gather his bearings, he tried to focus his thoughts into the back of his head. Yes, please. This could be our one big shot.

The idea of the D-Reaper collaborating with any creature but its own minions left Isaac even more confused. If it willingly accepted a collaborator into this sphere, then this sphere must have been pretty critical. After all, wouldn't the Ebemon otherwise make for a perfectly "interesting" target to "study?" No, it must have been necessary for something, and this sphere must have been where it kept necessary things.

Did that mean Isaac was one of those necessary things? He tried not to let his fear at that revelation show.

Isaac tried to force his thoughts back on track. Three things were clear. One, this Ebemon was a madman who poked at dead bodies and let the agent killing them seduce him. Two, either these Digimon had been decaying for a long time or the D-Reaper's temptations acted really fast. Three, he wasn't going to die here, or at the very least not this second. Bereft of options and waiting for Datamon to run the translation, he figured he might as well try to get all of the information out of Ebemon that he possibly could. Fortunately, while his strengths seemed increasingly few, he was at least a damn good actor.

"I'm not sure," Isaac said, his tone surprisingly genuine. Then again, lies were easier to tell when they were buried in kernels of truth, and Isaac had enough kernels of confusion to grow an entire cornfield. "I don't know much about the Reaper, or about this place at all. Could you tell me more? I bet one making such genius records would be able to shed a lot of light on this."

Isaac was screaming internally at that last sentence. But at least Datamon would see he had a plan!

It ain't easy, Isaac muttered in the back of his head at Datamon's advice. Keeping it up a bit longer was hard enough, even if he could focus on the English data now instead of the gruesome video feed. Keeping it up for a lot longer, as it seemed he would have to with Datamon ducking out to run information comparisons? That would be a lot more difficult. Having Datamon's voice in the back of his head was a small bit of comfort, a reminder that he wasn't really alone in this situation. With Datamon going dark, now he would be plunged right back into solitude. Maybe later on he'd ask Datamon to wire Maia or Elliot in, but for now this was going to be something he did alone.

Well, not quite alone. There was the Ebemon, who seemed very pleased with his sucking up. Flattery really was the fastest way into someone's heart, wasn't it? Unfortunately, there wasn't nearly enough research for a lengthy tirade. Isaac was only able to buy a minute or two with that question, feeling a chill run down his spine at the idea of this Digimon throwing away every ambition to be the appendix of a far greater being. This was a Mega, one of the most rare and powerful beings in the Digital World, and here it was freely admitting it was little more than a scribe. No, a data recorder. An object could have served this mighty being's purpose.

Isaac was even more thankful he didn't let "Maia" seduce him. If he had receded even an inch deeper into the D-Reaper's clutches, would he have been reduced to a similarly pitiful state?

He tried to glean the Reaper's end goals from what Ebemon was saying. It seemed like it was trying to create . . . something. A perfect world? A perfect being? Suddenly, the clusters of data it absorbed made sense. Each bit of disconnected data was simply another aspect that it deemed necessary for its glorious evolution. A lot of it still left Isaac confused. Why just the tiniest part of an elbow? Was the death of countless Digimon really worth it just for something so inconsequential? Then he realized what the Ebemon's last sentence meant.

Who cared about limits or restraints, when one's end goal was to consume the entire world?

He tried to keep his composure, his Impmon gloves hiding the white-knuckled grip of his fingers. "And where are we?" he asked, hoping his inquiries could buy just a bit more time. He needed plans, and each one he came up with was discarded more quickly than the last. Escape wasn't on the table. Sitting around and doing nothing would just get him killed. Exploring the central sphere would likely get him lost, or plunge him right back into the vision. Maybe sowing dissent among the ranks? With how enthralled Ebemon was by the D-Reaper, any argument Isaac could think of would likely be dismissed with ease, but Isaac saw playing to the Mega's lingering ego as his last potential option.

He could think on it later. Maybe it'd be good to run it past Datamon when he returns, too. Who better than a supercomputer to proofread his ideas?

Great. Not only was a lot of the information Isaac getting disturbing, but it was also very inaccurate. Of all the complicated concepts currently being discussed, that was the main thing Isaac was able to grasp from the conversation. He tried to look at the silver lining of this situation. Now they would be acutely aware of the D-Reaper's limitations, and what it failed to understand about a situation. However, it completely escaped Isaac how any of this could help. Maybe if they challenged it to an arm wrestling competition, they could get the real best elbow joint to beat the D-Reaper's outdated elbow joints. Truly, Isaac's recon was making huge contributions to their team effort.

The rest of the conversation was a lot harder to grasp. They were already inside of a dream, but now they were inside the consciousness of the dream? There was some Inception-level bullshit going on here, and it wasn't helping Isaac keep track of the sequence of events any further. This was all inside the head of Ebemon, and this in particular was the consciousness of the D-Reaper, latched on like a parasite? That seemed the most likely way to put everything together, and briefly Isaac wondered if he could give the D-Reaper one major headache by trying to wreck the place.

Oh, who was he kidding? Not even his strongest forms could put even a dent in this cage. He'd be better off trying to attack Ebemon, and that in itself was an atrocious idea. Even as his blood boiled and his patience grew thin, he kept telling himself that patience was the key here. One wrong step, and his chances of seeing Elliot and Maia again would go from slim to none.

He only had one question left for Datamon. What happens if we wake it up?

It wasn't easy juggling his attention between two phases of reality, but hearing about the new arrival snapped Isaac back into focus at the kernel. Thankfully, the D-Reaper hadn't snagged one of his friends. He was equal parts relieved at their safety and horrified at the prospect of seeing a "fresh" digestion going on. He thought fast, trying to find something, anything at all to change the subject to.

"How does it make the constructs?"

He probably could've picked a better one.

So Isaac was in the nightmares of a dead Digimon walking, which were now completely intertwined with a sci-fi author's Lovecraftian horror story. And it sounded like severing the consciousness would just end their one shot at stopping the D-Reaper, instead of dealing it a vicious blow. Isaac was starting to run out of ideas on what to do, other than keep biding time. After all, it sounded like freedom could have been just around the corner. I'm so glad they're okay, he thought, his relief palpable. I just wish I could've done more to help.

At least he was gaining more intel on the Reaper, which he was constantly keeping on his mind so that Datamon could pick it out. They wouldn't know a ton about its nature, but at least they would know more about some integral aspects. Such as everything the Ebemon just told him. He did his best to look interested, even if he had the feeling Ebemon would've been perfectly content just hearing himself talk. "So it's basically cloning everything it wants, but in its own image, and leaves the rest to be discarded?" He shuddered imagining just what sorts of Digital chimeras had evolved into the beings that Isaac and his friends had previously fought. Evolved? No, more like been twisted. "Did it use anything from you?"

Of course, the more worrying question on Isaac's mind was whether it would use anything from him.

The more Isaac learned about this thing, the worse he loathed it. It was basically made out of melted Digimon flesh, and if what Ebemon had to say was true it was only getting faster at production. If Ebemon wasn't stopped soon, the Reaper's slow spread would soon become a cancerous advance. And yet, what was Isaac supposed to do? He was just a Rookie. Even at his strongest, he could brush against Ultimate. What chance would he stand against a Mega, especially one on his home turf that the D-Reaper would very much like to keep alive? If he tried anything, he'd be surely ripped to bits by some matter of security system. Anything he did would have to be subtle, but even that risked making things all too dangerous for him.

Briefly, he wondered if the Reaper could hear everything he was thinking, and was simply humoring him to watch him squirm.

And then any thought of subversion was quashed as Ebemon turned its eye toward him. The cybernetic alien had gotten far too close for comfort, intimately looking over Isaac as he did his best not to look intimidated. The easy part was easing his shivers, forcing his mind to tether to thoughts of Maia to ease his nerves. Just the idea of seeing her again was enough to help him relax, if only because he knew the alternative was death. The harder part was attempting to look proud as Ebemon poked and prodded at him, hovering mere inches from his face and commenting about him like a lamb on its way to the butcher's. He straightened his spine and put up his best smirk, trying to look like he owned his value. Even if that value was as meat for the harvest.

Poor Datamon's headset would practically turn to static from the mix of profanity and scrambled thoughts currently pouring into it.

Isaac was between a rock and a hard place. If he downplayed himself, he'd be dismantled as trash material. If he talked himself up, he'd be forced to put his talents to the test. And if he dared mention he was human? Isaac didn't even want to think about what would happen then. He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tried to pool his thoughts, before snapping back into focus with an answer in mind.

"I'm but a humble wanderer. I've seen many places, and endured many battles. I've stared some of the most fearsome fighters dead in the eye. I've braved the Dark Area, not once but several times. Maybe it's talent. Maybe it's guts. Maybe it's all just luck, or a little of all three. But until now I have never been part of any big plan," he said. "I doubt I could ever understand the will of a being so grand, so beyond my comprehension. And yet, you seem to translate its desires so fluently.

What do you think it wants from me?"

In his attempt of stroking the egoes of host and parasite alike, Isaac had asked a question he really didn't want to hear answered. And yet, if it got Ebemon on another ramble, it could at least buy him some time. He would much rather hear about the many, many horrible fates in store for him than actually experience them.