In a Corrupted Mind [Mission]

Inside of the Daimyo Defender bubble, something was stirring . . .

Elliot and Isaac, when they began their transformation, they thought they would've taken on the form of Dualdramon. It was a desperate move, but also the only one they thought was remotely feasible. Turned out when in the Digital World, the feasible course of action was rarely the one that actually went into effect. Instead, they found all of their spirits coming together, refining and perfecting themselves in time to achieve something entirely new.

As the light within the bubble started to fade, what was once two scared brothers was now one determined warrior. It resembled a black and gold Dynasmon, albeit with the ceremonial plating of a Samudramon covering it. In its good hand it bore a helix-shaped blade, as jagged as a lightning bolt, and the arm that still hung limp from Elliot's suicide run had the Brave Shield resting on it. A crimson cape and silver hair spilled from behind the Digimon, completing the look. It didn't exactly look in the best state. Scratches, burns, and slices covered its armor, the metal horn on its snout was cracked, and the skirt protecting its legs was torn. Nevertheless, a fresh new determination burned within its blood.

By now, the bubble was starting to crack. Even as entire conversations between the brothers progressed at the speed of thought, their internal struggles were starting to eat up a lot of time. It didn't help that the former D-Evidramon had completely surrounded the bubble, the pressure of its gooey body threatening to collapse the shield entirely. The new fusion knew its time, so short and new, would be heavily limited if it didn't act soon.

Its back unfolded, revealing a pair of jump jets. The jets sparked with atmospheric energy, erupting in green, phosphorous-fed fire as the fusion charged as high into the air as possible. Its cape spread like wings, catching any air it could and leaving it all the more aerodyanmic. The higher it could rise, the longer it would have to escape. The longer it would have to escape, the better the chance it stood to make it out of this situation alive. It clutched its sword tight, hoping for some focus as it threatened to push against the sound barrier.

It was when the Daimyo Defender was really starting to crumble that the fusion flung out its wings, stopping in mid-air. It looked around at the steadily collapsing bubble, a smirk born of desperation forming underneath its helmet. "So that's how it's gonna be? Well, then, how about we heat things up a bit?" it asked, both brothers internally cringing and blaming the other for that terrible line. Its jump jets folded up even higher, building up as much power as possible while the bubble started to fade. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . .

With a vicious war cry the jump jets ignited. Whereas before they were used to fly, now their power was being channeled to immolate the fusion in brilliant green flame. For anyone who looked to the skies, they would see a flaming V written in the air.

Hopefully, they would take it as a sign to stay determined. After all, the V was for Victory.

The fire and flames had enveloped Relicdramon so thoroughly that it had no clue as to the success of its endeavor. Its good hand remained hovering over its helix blade, and it peered around with narrowed eyes as it tried to track the D-Reaper's movements. It was only when the flame started to subside that Relicdramon could see clearly, tongues of furious green giving way to the same stormy skies that had marked their entry to the D-Reaper's domain. The gooey red shell that had previously coated their shield was gone, ruined data wafting into the air like tongues of smoke the only sign of its departure. Slowly, Relicdramon relaxed its stance. Its sword arm lowered and its wing beats slowed, the fusion seemingly paralyzed by indecision now that its purpose had passed.

Then it started to laugh.

As it laughed it looked at down its hands in confusion. Which brother had started laughing first? Judging by Relicdramon's reaction, it didn't even seem to know. Nevertheless, the laugh only built up in intensity as it continued. While at first it was little more than an unsure chuckle, soon Relicdramon was practically doubled over from how hard it was laughing. Tears stained the rim of its helmet's eye-holes, and it had gently laid the hand of its good arm over its nonfunctional one. Despite everything, they were alive. They were here. They were safe.

With a hefty clunk, phosphorous-tinged smoke rose from the jump jets that were receding into Relicdramon's back. They were falling.

In a panic, Relicdramon thrust its wings out, only to let out a muffled curse as it noticed how torn and tattered they were. While they were still capable of getting some lift, it was far from enough to properly carry Relicdramon through the air. Instead of a glide, the fusion was now limited to a mere controlled far. In an almost childish fashion it kicked its legs and arms, as if trying to tear through the sky like a swimmer. It had come too far to die now.

Thankfully, Relicdramon had it better than some. D-Reaper agents, once circling overhead like buzzards, were now plummeting to the ocean of sludge in a freefall. At the rate Relicdramon was falling, it would have more time than them before gravity decided to have a frustrated word. However, this relief gave way to a question. Namely, why was the Reaper falling to pieces in the first place?

The smoke rising in the distance made it clear. Relicdramon turned its body slightly, guiding its controlled fall more in the direction of the smoke. As the smoke dispersed and Relicdramon got closer, it could see that the D-Reaper's kernel had fallen into a complete state of disrepair. The monstrosity's heart had been torn out, and with it gone its infinite hands were left without direction. Immense relief and immense concern washed over Relicdramon in equal part. One half of its gestalt brain saw the prison that had housed it for an unfathomable amount of time completely destroyed. The other half of its gestalt brain now realized just what exactly it had been through.

It was only when an all-too-familiar figure in the kernel's center stirred that the relief had passed entirely. While the D-Reaper's heart had been shattered, its brain still hung on by a thread.

Isaac remembered the torments that Ebemon had put him through inside of that kernel. He remembered the cold, clinical dissection of countless Digimon beings, immortalized on screen for its "studies." He remembered the strange injection he had implanted within him, screwing up his code and his vision while cutting him completely off from Datamon's intel. He remembered the fact that, just for the sake of its ego and curiosity, it let itself be complicit in everything the D-Reaper had done. Worst of all he remembered the creation of D-Evidramon, the exact moment at which his confidence in making out of this day alive had shattered.

Elliot remembered the horrifying way the Bubbles' grey flesh bubbled and decayed into red goo, then data, as he lit it ablaze in desperation. He remembered the Paratice Head, staggering around and clutching its throat as if suffocating to death once its cords had been severed. He remembered the horrid physical pain that he had been put through and the horrid physical pain that he was forced to put the Reaper through. He remembered the way the Pendulum Hands snatched his brother away, and the way D-Evidramon swallowed him hole. He couldn't even pinpoint the moment at which today had ruined his innocence. It had slowly been assaulted throughout the day, only a hollow shell left.

In Elliot, Isaac had regained his hopes. In Isaac, Elliot had regained his strength. Now, reminded of what they had lost, their newfound completion let their rage burn twice as hotly. Relicdramon flapped its tattered wings, hastening its fall yet also its approach, as it tried its damndest to get in rage of Ebemon.

As Ebemon let out one last groan, Relicdramon sheathed its blade and clenched its fist.

"Final . . ."

As Ebemon thrust a hand to the sky, Relicdramon drew its hand back. A small, green flame seemed to wreath around its fingers.

"Spirit . . ."

As Ebemon fired a blast at the rifts above, Relicdramon thrust its fist furiously in the alien's direction.

"Cannon!"

All of Relicdramon's rage, all of Relicdramon's hatred, and all of Relicdramon's fighting spirit poured into this last punch. The green flame intensified and flickered furiously, forming the shape of a long, coiled dragon. With the force of its punch Relicdramon launched it right at Ebemon, jaws stretching open as if aiming to swallow the cyborg whole.

With that parting shot made, Relicdramon was satisfied. It glowed a dull white, slowly separating into the Dynasmon and Samudramon that were its components. Any attempts at staying airborne were forsaken, the two glowing shapes plummeting as their heavy eyelids closed. Minds finally untangled, both brothers sent the same thought Datamon's way.

It was time to let go.