The Icon of Sin - Demon Lords 1I (Dr. Mikemon, K, Cion)

Daemon's head whipped around at the sight of a Digimon approaching. His jaw dropped a little, and the dark lance in his hand poofed into smoke. He blinked a few times, but no matter what nothing changed. Some random cat had just wandered up to the front door of his freshly erected doom fortress. "Excuse me, but were are in the middle of something he-" he started, the offense in his voice draining when he noticed the replica of Barbamon's cloak.

Was this Barbamon, playing some sort of trick? No, no, Barbamon was accounted for. They all were. And by now, 36 was in a number in the rear view mirror. His eyes narrowed. "Is this a joke?" he asked. "I don't know if you're trying to mess with me, or if you're just a washed-up old husk looking for attention. But I have no time for you." He waved dismissively, then summoned his dark lance anew in the palm of his hand. "Begone."

"With all due respect, my liege, you are not the judge of this." The voice came from a silhouette high above the castle, and had a wizened yet regal tone that Mikemon would recognize all too intimately. The silhouette spread his six wings, letting his cape flow behind him, and then touched down gently in front of Mikemon.

When Mikemon asked to see the current Lord, did he expect the current Greed to answer the call?

"It is great to see you again, my kin." The current Barbamon looked down at his former self, a grin visible underneath his bird-like visor. As he watched Mikemon he ran his talons through his beard, lost in thought. "Let's see, which of my lifetimes was this," he muttered. "Thirty-six, thirty-six . . . aha! Now I recall.

The Greed who ran, I see." Barbamon's tone grew serious at this comment. "Most cling to their worthiness until death snatches it from their hands. But I suppose us Greeds have always known more self preservation than the rest of this lot. Surely, the life is the most precious of all valuables, no?" He turned to notice K and Cion, tilting his head curiously. "Are these the companions you keep? I can't say I expected such a bedraggled lot, but-"

Daemon coughed. Still grasping Seraphimon by the windpipe, he gestured towards the gate. The slightest wheeze escaped Seraphimon as he was waved around like a ragdoll.

"Ah, my apologies. I always do enjoy keeping tabs on my previous selves," Barbamon said. "Shall we take our conversation inside?" He snapped his fingers, the bloodstone orb in the center of his staff beginning to shine. Sure enough, if Mikemon didn't resist it, the magic would levitate him clear off of the ground. "Oh, and that bedraggled lot you bring with you can come along as well, I suppose," he added, turning his gaze towards K and Cion.

As he looked them up and down, his nose wrinkled a little. "How have you come to associate yourselves with a Demon Lord?" he asked. "You seem too . . . what's the word, what's the word.

Holy?"

Daemon scoffed, rolling his eyes at Mikemon's critique. "Oh, Greeds. Always so practical," he said. "Perhaps for you other Sins, the carnage is a means to an end. But to a Wrath?" Daemon's hood continued to cover his entire face, but the look in his eyes was one of near-transcendent bliss. "The means are the end. Now, you discuss matters of your domain, while I savor pulling this little thorn out of my side." With that, Daemon turned back to his prey, slamming him back against the fortress gate for good measure. "Now, how best to pose you for this little warning sign . . . "

With how little mind Barbamon paid his "liege," Daemon probably got up to this sort of business often. With him having already said his piece, he was all too busy to sit back and hear Mikemon out. "Home invader, hm? Perhaps that's one thing to call the angel," he said, chuckling mirthfully. "Although if you asked Daemon, honored guest would be the far better term. I swear, it's almost like he was inviting Seraphimon over here. Who in their right mind plans a disturbance like this otherwise?

But I suppose it isn't anyone's fault but his own. He accepted all too readily."

Clearly, Barbamon wasn't trying too hard to sympathize with Seraphimon. Now, Mikemon? He was far more deserving of Barbamon's sympathies. The wizened old demon's eyes widened in shock as he heard about Mikemon's marriage. "Oh, congratulations!" he crooned. "Such a pity I was unable to attend. But I am sure your celebration was every bit as lavish as it was well earned. And don't tell me you paid for a single thing on your registry. I trust even the Greed who ran to know better than that. Not even a single piece of tupperware!"

Daemon coughed, muttering something under his breath about knowing moods and reading rooms. Barbamon simply turned back to Mikemon and company in response. "Perhaps there are better places to discuss such matters. Come, follow me," he said. With another snap of Barbamon's fingers, he, Mikemon, K, and Cion would go hurtling through the skies of the Dark Area at terrifying speeds. Their destination: a large, golden spire, one of the seven "spokes" on the outer walls of this wheel-like fortress.

The entrance to Barbamon's room was surprisingly sparse. There was little more than a few tatami mats, a sparse wooden floor, and an open window overlooking the rest of Daemon's fortress. The quartet would stop on a dime as soon as they entered this room, Barbamon's hair looking wild and blown out from the trip. "There we are. Much more comfortable here, without Daemon overhearing," Barbamon said. "Now, you mentioned a deal, yes? It's rare one comes to us in such confidence. Well, besides deliverymon of various stripes, but Daemon tends to handle those. But if anything, that makes me all the more interested to hear you out. So come, you three, and say your piece.

But I do hope you remember that a Greed always drives a hard bargain."

Perhaps another Demon Lord would have laughed in the face of Mikemon's ridiculous proposal. Or perhaps instead, they would have simply opted to smite Mikemon for his insolence. Barbamon didn't seem too keen on playing that way. Instead he shot Mikemon a weary look, muttering "I'm going to pretend you didn't say any of that." As a Greed, dealing with a fellow Greed, this kind of negotiation was far from out of the ordinary. Even then, the brazenness of Mikemon's proposal had come somewhat out of left field. Did he seriously expect the Digimon currently drawing out the world's longest execution to give up the fortress he had just dragged out of the sea?

That said, some of his concerns were quite valid. "The Reaper may be a problem, true," Barbamon said. "But even with that little red mess wrapped up, come now. If Daemon was satisfied with being king shit of the Dark Area, none of this would be happening right now, would it? You can plainly see he's throwing Digimon otherwise on par with him around like ragdolls. A few shows of force like that, and he could play tyrant until his little, shriveled-up heart is content. He certainly wouldn't need to scatter the rest of us across the Digital World just for that.

No, no, his plans are a tad bit bigger than that. Still so small-minded in the end, but, Wraths. What are you going to do?" Barbamon smirked slightly, as if talking about the outcome of a sport rather than a potential warzone. "That said, I would not be opposed to contributing to your research. Consider it an offer made free of charge. I'm rather fond of having a world to keep all of my treasures in, after all. And perhaps if the fruits of your labor pan out, I'll even let you borrow the castle for your wedding reception. But do be sure not to let Beelzemon get into the punch bowl. The Sign of Gluttony is still getting his feet on the ground this cycle."

Barbamon turned his attention to K now, nodding sagely at her response. "I assure you, information is a treasure as well, and one I hoard jealously," he said. "I would be quite interested to hear what you have to say, but prying Seraphimon from Daemon's claws would be quite the struggle. Every incarnation, the two are at one another's throats. Sometimes a Wrath hurtles to the heavens to enact his revenge. Sometimes Seraphimon descends to stop Wrath's schemes before they play out. It's no surprise, then, that with the stakes so high tier battle has already started." He shook his head, laughing slightly.

"It's almost as if they forget how many other players our little game has."

Nevertheless, Barbamon didn't seem entirely opposed to K's offer. "If it's any consolation, I'm sure Daemon will release the egg once he's had his fun," Barbamon offered. "Wrath is truly a paradox. When your hate is what sustains you, how can you truly bring an end to its source? If anything, you're lucky he hasn't fallen into the clutches of another."

That just left Cion, not speaking out for Seraphimon nor coming with ambitions of her own. Her current silence spoke volumes, with Barbamon having nothing to go off of but her mention of aspiring holiness. "And what of you, aspirant?" he asked. "If you come not to bargain for yourself or for others, then what do you come here for? Surely your presence here is no accident."