A Deal's A Deal [Digimental Hunt]

Psychemon walked the streets of Terminus City, apart from those he passed. Disinterested. He seemed to move at random, taking turns with no real deliberation. He was there to uphold a promise... the beginning of many, actually. There was a pact to be fulfilled. He was here to fulfill his end of the bargain. So he walked the streets, knowing he would find his destination sooner or later. The little rectangle of parchment scrawled with squarish digicode clutched in his left hand would make sure of that.

His feet took him to the dirtier, somewhat more rundown sections of the city. The part of the city where the occasional data packet was corrupted, or just missing in some cases. It was littered, it was dark and cramped. It was unpleasant. His feet led him onward, so he continued at a sedate pace, unhurried, his gaze passing over everything as he watched. Waiting to know what he was looking for. As he walked, his mind wandered, straying to the new data he carried within him...


He sat in a cave on the edges of the Dark Area. It had been a long trip to get here. His fur was matted and dirty, his shoulders drooping. It had taken much to get here; sacrifices, compromises. Mostly he'd convinced a few others to make them. But the journey had not been without its costs. But this too had been kind of a deal, and he upheld his deals, always. Mostly.

In the far wall of the small cavern there was a shallow niche cradling a small egg-shaped object. It was a digimental, white and criss-crossed with black straps holding a number of rectangular paper talismans in place. Lengths of chain snaked around the egg and disappeared into the rock walls of the niche, keeping it securely in place. A Nohemon dummy lay in a heap on the floor near the niche, looking like a sad forgotten toy. Except, toys didn't stir on their own...


Psychemon stopped in front of a warehouse. This was it. He tucked the parchment into his fur and turned down the alleyway between it and the building next door; he could see a door that would lead him inside. He slipped down the alley and let himself in the door, casting a simple, whispered "Trick Mirage" around himself to shield himself from view. Ahead of him, rows of shelves filled with crates formed long, narrow rows on either side of an open sorting area in the center.

Peering down the nearest rows, he could see movement in the center area, between sets of tables containing packages and crates. He slipped reasonably quietly down the row of shelves, allowing his illusion to drop and bring him back into visibility just as he emerged from the rows. There were three other digimon there; a pair of Gotsumon and a Goblimon. All three stopped working and fell silent as he approached. His gaze settled immediately on the Goblimon, who eyed him with something that could have been apprehension.

He stepped towards the definitely-nervous Goblimon, nodding to him in a friendly manner. "I'm sorry to disturb your work," he said genially. "But I am here about the matter of a debt..." The reaction was instantaneous; Goblimon tossed the nearest crate at Psychemon, which he dodged. In the meantime Goblimon had produced a heavy-looking wooden club, charging forward with a shout of "Goburi Rush!" he managed to dodge a couple blows, taking a couple more in the snout and chest that sent him sprawling. Goblimon took off for the far side of the warehouse at a run.

It didn't matter. Psychemon knew what to do. He'd been given what he needed...


The Nohemon dummy stood up awkwardly, unbalanced and unsteady. As if it was being controlled, but someone had got the puppet strings tangled. There was no crow in evidence; this was just a leftover bit of data with nothing animating it. Or it had been, until it stood up to face the rookie with that blank, painted-on expression. And spoke. Yes, of course it spoke. "I know what you want," it said.

I know why you came. And I can help you get it. Psychemon nodded, his head low. He wasn't bowing to the Nohemon dummy. He was bowing to what was controlling it. The not-voice behind it. This was what he had spent so long seeking. Since he'd first heard the whispers. Since he'd first set foot on the far shores of the Dark Area. This was the beginning of everything he ever wanted. But still...

"And will you ask in return for what I seek?" He had to ask. You never left important details unwritten in the contract. Serve me. Collect on bargains. I will give you the means to do so. And power. You will grow strong, like you want... Psychemon smiled to himself. It was the bargain he sought to make. It was how things were done. There was only one thing left. "Draw up the contract," he replied to the dummy.

He made the deal, and behind the dummy, the chains on the digimental disintegrated. The dummy collapsed once was the deal was struck, and Psychemon strode forward to regain his prize. It didn't react to him right away, staying inert as he lifted it from its alcove. The Digimental of Oaths, the not-voice explained. Yours in exchange for your own oath. You may use it in pursuit of the contract. Complete the first, prove yourself and it is yours.


'In pursuit of the contract,' it had said. He had been waiting for this. Psychemon picked himself up from the ground, grinning a little. "Energize," he growled. "Psychemon armor digivolve to..." He was enclosed in a cocoon of digicode as his body lengthened into a tall and slender humanoid. The digimental wrapped itself around him in billowy robes of white and gray, wrapped tight in some places with black straps and flowing free in others. Paper talisman-like contracts lined his cloak and clothing, each one a measure of borrowed or owed power. Among them was the one Psychemon had carried.

The digicode dispersed around him, revealing a lean, tall man-digimon with lengthened proportions, his right arm obscured in the sleeve of his robes. "...Baalmon!" He turned to regard the pair of Gotsumon, his gaze cold; they didn't intervene. Smart. He took off at a run for the far side of the warehouse. The moment he was outside, Baalmon slipped the Dashenbian whip from his belt, shouting "Fiendish Reach!" and extending it to snap up and take hold on the corner of the building next door.

One hard pulled sent him leaping up to the rooftop, the whip neatly coiling back on itself into its simpler baton shape. His gaze searched the nearby allies, watching... there. Goblimon had made a few turns trying to shake him off, but that had limited the distance he'd been able to travel. Baalmon took off at a run, leaping between a few buildings, then down another alley, his descent slowed with the Dashenbian. He stepped out of the alley, turned to his left...

And there was Goblimon, scrambling to reverse his momentum. "Fiendish Reach!" His whip snaked out to curl around Goblimon's ankle, yanking him tumbling to land at his feet. His club rolled to a stop to Baalmon's right, just a little out of his quarry's reach. How sad.

"About that debt," he said, his voice deep and flat. "I've been sent to collect what you owe. You don't have it?" The Goblimon nervously shook his head. Baalmon sighed, turning and pacing a few steps away. "Well, debts must be paid," he said matter-of-factly, raising his right arm. A pair of gun barrels glinted underneath the long sleeve as it slid back. The Goblimon, realizing what was coming, leaped for his club.

"Hell Fire!" The shotgun in his sleeve thundered twice, sending a pair of slugs into the desperate digimon. Goblimon's form disintegrated into bytes of data immediately,the majority flowing into one of the contracts in his cloak. Something like a signature appeared at its bottom in digicode, marking the contract's completion, Baalmon was pleased to find a portion of the Goblimon's data hadn't been absorbed, which he took into his own happily. It was a small boost, but with every contract...

Well. That was another deal.