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The Icon of Sin - Demon Lords 1I (Dr. Mikemon, K, Cion)
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Post by Dr. Mikemon on May 30, 2019 0:13:11 GMT
Tch... grudge against oathbreakers, huh...
As Barbamon's voice faded from his head, Mikemon found himself in quite an irritated state, his hand grasping tightly around that golden energy. In a sense, he couldn't help it - being tied so close to his Icon brought his older thoughts to mind, a sense of joy and catharsis teasing the back of his head. But on the other hand, he knew that these thoughts and feelings weren't all his own - and if he pressed too hard, perhaps he would really put K and Cion in danger.
Not that it matters though, right? He's already figured that he can't use Greed's Icon. He loosened his hand, the golden glow vanishing as the tool technically returned to the fight. He'll only use it if he really figures that he has to. So long as I drop the leash now, I'll never be found out.
He was hedging his bets, sure, but he couldn't keep his attention split for too long. Seeing the ghost practically beg in response to his request for help, the cat gave a 'tch' between his teeth.
"You get your reward after. Otherwise you'll never stop asking me for it."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2019 1:53:34 GMT
The additive of Cion's power to her own was something to behold that much was certain. It gave the battle fury driven dragon even a thoughtful pause as it watched the meteor with all it's grand power slam into the Daemon. She could feel a small hint of pride welling up from her core of such an attack; not even once had she reached this height before. On her own or with her friends. The Examon flapped once to keep herself aloft, adjusting her lance cautiously.
If these demonlords were anything, they were resilient and she didn't believe her attack would do as much as others would think. As Daemon caught the attack with one hand she felt a small flutter of worry, then he shifted to catch it with two... and then the resulting blast engulfed him... the icon and the battlefield in a bloody dust, the examon holding it's hand out and brushing aside a great swath of it with a snarl.
At the end Daemon was left standing, a heaving chest, tattered robes and murder in his eyes. But that look brought a smile across her face and she felt her lance crack under the pressure she applied to it with the excitement that ran through her core. The battle fury that had taken her had also pulled something deep from within. The desire to do battle with someone greater than her.
Then there was that massive data spike, the digital hazard that wrapped around his frame was much like hers. Save that his strength far surpassed hers beyond even a smidgen of what she could hope to achieve on their own. It wasn't hard to set that reminder that a demonlord was above that of a normal digimon and the Examon felt the first fledling of pain in her frame as the digital hazard did its nasty work.
Snarling in agony the examon found her wings shaking, unable to keep her weight aloft with all the damage and effor they had given thus far. The mighty dragon let loose a hardened roar, within it came a single pure voice. Gentle, kind and reminding.
"Bagramon's wrath!"
She felt herself become engulfed by the sheer power that was Daemon's attack, it wrent her wings, tore across her form, broke her scales, shattered her lance. She felt her body start to crumble, her core straining as the damage she was being subjected to was immense and to her already damaged frame? The sheer intensity lasted all of a second.
As she fell to the earth, the weight of her form causing the bloody earth to splinter and explode outwards. A beacon of light pulsed on her chest and daemon would find that she too had more than those just standing here with her.
Those afar, those that had called them to action had given them a small boon. One after the other. And from that light a pure unrestricted blast of power rushed to slam against the daemon. If he was not careful he would be engulfed by the same power that he had unleashed on the failing examon.
Further still? The examon's form crumbled away into a data haze slowly but firmly. Until eventually?
Only the renamon was left standing, staggering through the crater she had left in the ground. One arm hung uselessly, an eye screwed shut from either pain or inability to open. Her cloak was practically in tatters around her. She was even drooling data from her mouth, as the internal damage was likely far past what this form should be capable of. But unlike her opponent, unlike her attack of such a physical nature...
She had refused to take a knee.
She felt that pulse of her core quicken, the want and desire to say something. She normally quelled this sort of feeling, the snark never sat right with her, but she spat out a gob of data on the ground. Glaring up at the Daemon; her voice was hoarse but it still was raw with the emotion of the battle.
"Your quantity is failing you, your quality is the muck beneath my boots."
Log:
-K takes the full brunt of Apocalypse, Now.
-K uses Bagramon's wrath to return the favor.
-K is now a renamon and a badly damaged one at that!
Move:
Bagramon's Wrath - All damage taken by a Digimon on this post is unleashed back onto the one who dealt the damage.
Passives:
[RAM UPGRADE GIGA]: Crimson Mantle: Jesmon's signature cape; adjusted for size for each Digivolution. This cape has a few soft abilities each that scales with the level given. It may provide flight [if the wearer already can fly their movement is increased by one step] and it can block a single attack relevant to the power of the level of the host digimon before implementing a cool down of two posts for the block itself. This mantle may be passed to others but it's effectiveness for others is generally halved.
Card: [1/7]
Cooldowns:
DOTD: N/A
Overclock: N/A
Bagramon's wrath: N/A
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Post by Cion on Jun 1, 2019 11:48:24 GMT
The spectacle of the onslaught Cion and K were responsible for had indeed been a stunning sight to behold. The unified powers the ascendants had unleashed, frost and primordial radiance at their core, tore through the wasteland's darkness, parts of the seemingly unyielding fortress... and most importantly Daemon itself. Naturally, there was unambiguous reason to believe that this clash was far from over, but as an opening this likely showed every participating villains what true cooperation, under the banner of good, was capable of accomplishing. The vulpine sentinel was certainly convinced that anything was possible if humans and digimons alike were fighting for a common cause. Unfortunately, barely anyone comprehended this, and practically nobody except herself acted upon this very basic realization. The desire for people to put themselves into miniscule groups, or at the helm of something they only care for self-servingly, was utterly beyond her. But, given time and hope, perhaps it was not inconceivable to change this status quo. However, for this undertaking, odious fiends like the lords of sin have to finally be purged once and for all. And their current enemy obviously refused to relinquish itself to ascent. Why it had decided to block the massive attack from the ground was stupefying to her, but this clear misjudgment played right into their hands. Battered and bruised, it had become unequivocal to both parties that it was not invincible. And that it entered a state of murderous frenzy verified how inherently weak this adversary truly was. Behind its hubris and the might of others - there was nothing else than just one among uncountable wretches that had to be eliminated. It was not special, nor unique. It was not an apex in any regard. It was merely the same farce as always - an obstacle on her path to transcendence. This sentiment brought a wintry, faintly winning smile on her lips. While her storm of razor-sharp downs proceeded to rend her target, the old nightmare solider did not appear too bothered by this. This was either advantageous, or calamitous... probably somewhere in between. From the skies, Cion beheld the conflagrant pentagram beneath, wondering what it was able to induce. Had to be a lot if her opponent was willing to sustain further damage that was amplified due to its innermost evil. A stalwart poise and mien masked her concerns as she became witness of the extent of this conjuration. And by everything that was righteous... this onset was devastating. Lacking the ability to teleport or phase into a parallel plain of existence, and that shields were pointless, there was but a sole way to continue properly. The silver fennec accepted the agony of her chosen destiny. Hopefully, her cherished friend had similar volition. Refusing to display fear or scream, a pain of unimaginable magnitude engulfed her entire frame. After the first second, her body grew numb and still, and then it was over. Not unlike a floating blowball, she remained skyward, though her gaze lingered on the barren soil and the benign paladin she had failed to protect adequately. This view was a personal badge of shame that gnawed at her spirit. Phlegmatically, the lupiform vanguard's final act of puissant resistance was perceived by her - and overwhelming it surely was. A living being... a literal beacon of light... for others. Why the knight, not her? She strove for so much more than anyone else. Why then was it her fate to remain alone in her perpetual struggle? Huh... was this pride and envy? Quaint. Ultimately, it did no matter. What was left of K was a vanquished Renamon. Was the avatar of wrath actually dead? Unlikely, and this uncertainty did not suffice in the slightest. With the gleaming feathers swiftly returning to her, the ancient avant-garde knew that submittal to defeat was unacceptable. She would not meet the same end as those who declared themselves heroes who defiantly lost in the face of malignity. She had risen beyond this constant folly, and she would prove this. "Never again!" The tiny soul bellowed vociferously as a transparent pulse emanated from her corporeal vessel. As if reality distorted and suddenly shattered into shards in a wide area around her, the golden remnants of her previous move fused with her. Abruptly elevating herself to assume a proper stance, pure fury was cicatrizing the fox's facial expression. Veins turned visible as they displayed an aureate sheen, and as she pushed her limbs outward, an event the chivalric fighter was familiar with occurred. Cion renounced her restraints. In a tremendous, empyreal burst of raw force, and a yell that echoed past the horizon, her physical form was lacerated. A maelstrom of cosmic resplendence surged outwards, at its center an entity that flared like the surface of a sun. Although, dissimilar to several years ago, there was no graceful repose in the god beast's manifestation. The stars that formed her celestial trail and shroud were agitated as if caught in an event horizon - and the fires of her fervor penetrated her outer shell, raging as if they were the mythological ekpyrosis. Despite staying unassuming in size, there was not a shred of unassumingness about her. With a livid gaze that spoke louder than a thousand words, she demonstrated unquestionable willingness to proceed, even if she was once again stand-alone. And this directness, admittedly, felt catharticly ecstatic. She almost longed to finally unsheathe her weapons.
Battle Log:Passive:- Numen Aeternum: Reduced Physical Strength - Increased Maximum Health, Defenses and Pain Threshhold. Move: - Cion 'Star Dust Surge' remains to deal non-elemental high damage, then heals Cion - Cion utilizes 'Fate Weaver' to undo 'Apocalypse, Now' on herself - Cion does not utilize Combat-Passive Ability 'Elysian Sanction'- Cion relinquishes her prudence Buffs:
1) / 2) / Debuffs:1) / 2) / Active Effects On Enemies:- Enemies Struck by Elysian Sanction:1) Slightly reduced speed and mobility + small stacking shock damage (per lodged javelin {max. 3})
- Daemon:1) 1 or 1 Ethereal Javelins 2) / 3) / 4) / Cion's Cooldowns:1) Kismet Blessing: 3/4 2) Righteous Impetus: 2/2 3) Star Dust Surge: 1/3 4) Fate Weaver: 0/5 5) - Ability Durations:1) - 2) Star Dust Surge: 1/1 -> Clings to daemon |
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Post by Bonetrousled? on Jun 4, 2019 3:56:20 GMT
The Bakemon let out a rasping groan at Mikemon's insistence. Its beady eyes looked Mikemon up and down, blatantly disappointment in the raw deal it had just gotten. At one point it started to unhinge its jaw, flexing its fangs out of its mouth towards Mikemon. Then its jaws snapped right back into place, the Bakemon content with making its disappointment known. It then floated away towards Barbamon's golden spire. It orbited the perimeter a few times, looking each facet up and down, before darting right into the base of the southernmost one. It disappeared into the tower with ease, the natural transparency of the ghost on full display.
Shit. Mikemon couldn't do that. Right?
Daemon chuckled victoriously as both Cion and K were swallowed up into the flame, his laughter turning increasingly maniacal with each flame that rose up. Soon he was left looking up at his own grinning face, which dispersed into wisps of black smoke shortly after. "Beautiful," he hissed, once his laughter had finally subsided. "The heat of the flame. The symphony of screams. The smell of data, burning away. Oh, I never get tired of this."
"Yeah? Neither do I, ugly."
Standing in front of the staggered Renamon formerly known as K was a ghostly apparition of Bagramon. While little more than a light blue silhouette, his silhouette was sparking with a tremendous power. He flexed his ashen hand, feeling the sheer energy crackling out from it. "Picked a damn good choice, K. Good on you, making me proud out here. Now let's put it to the test, eh?" The Digital Hazard symbol flickered over his chest as he thrust his hand into the ground, a pentagram spreading across the floor beneath Daemon. Unlike Daemon's own attack, this one collapsed right around him.
Daemon had worked up an attack stronger than many mortal Digimon could boast of. It was a move he believed could challenge the Sovereigns themselves. Most importantly, it was an attempt at diminishing K and Cion's own strike against him by proving its irrelevance. Now, it was turned right back into his own face, the Daemon's wings splaying out in pure agony. His eyes spread wide, his hood covering up just how largely they did, and spurts of data shot out of his body as the energy crashed into his mainframe.
For the first time in a long while, Daemon had screamed in pain. It was a hideous, throaty sound that shook the entire foundation of the Dark Area.
Daemon's robes were now shredded, revealing a hairy, almost ape-like body in flashes beneath. His chest was visibly heaving, and the smoke rising from his body was tinged with a few pixels of data. Nevertheless, he refused to stay down. He flared his arm out, sending the smoke sprawling away from his body. "Enough!" he roared, shaking the Dark Area once more with his horrid howls. "I'm finished playing around. Your data shall be flayed from your very frames, and your oathbreaker of a master's head shall become my goblet. Do not even bother to speak your last words! Your lives are forfeit!"
Like a bat out of hell, Daemon launched forward. His pace was clearly slowed from before, yet he was still relentless. Today his target was not K but Cion, figuring that the one who just undid all damage aimed at her would be a much more pertinent target. In mid rush he stopped short, spreading his claws and firing a wide blast of black lightning at Cion. For a Digimon so small, a fast and wide attack like this would already be difficult to dodge. However, the purple aura of Barbamon surrounded him once more, and the lightning blast was followed up by two additional blasts to each side. In Daemon's eyes, some manner of punishment was inevitable.
Then the light blue aura of envy sparked up again, Daemon promptly hopping away from Cion. As he swung three javelins of darkness, one for each attack that Daemon had utilized, came flying right at K. One aimed for each of her hands, and the last aimed right for her heart. It was as if Daemon was dead-set on sending a message to K, and get one final leg up on her in this confrontation.
When he landed, a new aura flared up. This one was a shimmering gold, and it began eating away at the ground that Daemon stood atop. Ashen grass and charred soil broke down into blood red data, which readily flowed into Daemon's body. The Seal of Gluttony, too, was glowing a brilliant gold, and Daemon was all too happy to reap its bounty.
Daemon was working double time to grab back the advantages he had once lost. Nevertheless, in that one beautiful moment, the defiance of Cion and K had proved he was no god at all.
Combat Log: Bagramon's Wrath is a direct hit. Daemon is wracked with pain, and first blood on the Demon Lord has been drawn. Stardust Surge, while not nearly as painful in comparison, also successfully lands. Daemon rushes Cion at point blank range, using Fel Lightning to try and leave her no recourse for escape. He then repeats the attack multiple times, mirroring how he had previously targeted Cion and K. Once he is finished, he uses the Seal of Envy to steal Cion's Elysian Sanction, throwing Super MEga strength javelins directly at the weakened K. The Seal of Gluttony activates, mending Daemon's wounds. Known Passives in Play: Extra Sinful: Daemon's attacks hurt. Like, even compared to most Digimon beyond the limits of Super Mega, his attacks seem to be exceptionally painful. The energy siphoned from the other Demon Lords must be making quite the impact . . . and the deviation from Mikemon's gambit, while brief and minor, is noticeable. Icon of Lust: Unknown. Icon of Greed: The Icon of Green lets Daemon get greedy with his turn, attacking multiple times. The extents of this passive are unknown. And it's back, baby! Icon of Gluttony: Unknown. Icon of Sloth: The Icon of Sloth allows Daemon to keep his mobility intact when another ability would hamper it. The extents of this passive are unknown. Icon of Wrath: The Icon of Wrath allows Daemon to ruefully overcome any defense in his way. The extents of this passive are unknown. Icon of Envy: The Icon of Envy allows Daemon to seize what he wishes to claim. The extents of this passive are unknown. Icon of Pride: The Icon of Pride refuses to be outshone. Buff effects active on Daemon's opponents are copied onto him. Cooldowns: Fel Lightning - ?/? Hateful Cleave - ?/? Hell's Bells - ?/? Apocalypse, Now - ?/? [/quote] [/quote] [/quote] |
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Post by Dr. Mikemon on Jun 4, 2019 4:52:19 GMT
"Yeah, yeah, very scary."
But seriously, had Bakemon ever heard of a breath-mint? More annoyed than angered by the ghoul, it didn't take long for the cat to follow along his undead guide, towards what would be the center of this golden wasteland: a wasteful spire, stretching up to the sky. Yes, the ghost vanished into it, but it wouldn't take long for the cat to contort his eyes and try and make sense of the data structure underneath.
It wouldn't take long at all. But he didn't. He couldn't. The noise of that fight, so close to his own icon, consistently pulled the cat's mind away from the task at hand. Though he couldn't see what was going on, he could feel it: the powerful tremor from 'Dawn of the Third Day'. The first detonation of 'Apocalypse', followed shortly by the second. Each blast echoed through the deepest layers of his data, and very quickly, he felt a great sense of dread fill the back of his head. He was here to try and protect the Dark Area from being damaged from their fights to begin with, right?
What was the point if Daemon was just going to bring the house down right at the start? Not only that, but as he felt a particular data signal fade quick in the back of his head, he couldn't stay still.
"Soverign fucking damn it."
Swearing under his breath, the cat clicked a button under his glove, a familiar portal stretching open in front of him...
... And, on the other side, right in the middle of Daemon's conjured battleground.
Mikemon's ability to sense data let him find the battleground, but not necessarily the state of the fight. As Daemon put most of his focus into Cion, and as those spears were launched forth, the cat found himself in a very unfortunate position. Forcing his way through, he felt three sharp prongs of pain radiate through his body, an intense electrical current coursing through his shoulders and the center of his chest. Gritting his teeth - the portal closing behind him, giving K a clear view of the cat who had just slipped in - the Mikemon gave a hiss through his teeth.
This is why he wanted to leave that damn Seraphimon behind! But, at the very least, he could still sense K's signal!
"Well... you've sure managed to piss him off, at least..." Debilitated as he was from the shock, Mikemon couldn't immediately move. "You satisfied yet, K?"
Not much he could do to help Cion here yet, either. Honestly, this had the potential to turn even further south than it would have if he didn't show up!
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Post by Deleted on Jun 4, 2019 5:21:23 GMT
What could she do but watch her friend fight the very creature she said she would at the start? She'd grimace as the other reversed the damage done to her by Daemon; the apocalypse fading away like a distance memory. K would bite her lower lip, the dull thumping of her core and the numbness of her extremities made it hard to do much more than shamble forward. Her eye drifted to her friend, watching them cry out in challenge to the other. She honestly hoped they could manage something. Anything really. But here they were standing not but a breath away from that seraphimon but he might as well been on the other side of the digital world.
That ghostly apparition earned a quizzical if not surprised look from the renamon. Her hand clutching at her arm with a grimace, watching that power slam into Daemon. That scream of pain making her flinch as honestly... well. Daemon was a bit of a loud mouth. The throaty rolling sound made her core shiver and the renamon brushed one of her ears in irritation. She noted the state of Daemon. Heaving chest, smoke rising... he refused to stay down and now it seemed as though he had enough. Even claiming that Greed of all things was her master. She'd let out a soft chuckle and shake her head.
She didn't need to say anything at this point, she had already won even if her body had broken down and she was on the verge of collapse. He didn't even need to blow on her. But further still his abilities were far outside of her range of being able to deal with them. She got see that lightning flung at Cion and maybe a second or two before seeing him throw those javelins of darkness. She recognized the make of that ability, it was cion's wasn't it? He could take abilities, weapons... what else could he take?
She watched grimly as those Javelins soared at her, her cloak pulling at her body in a desperate attempt to make her move. But before she could even do anything... Well a portal opened up and she was gifted of the sight of her husband of all things taking those three javelins for her. The renamon sighed once more and stepped forward brushing some fur out of her eye.
"I wanted to try to save the seraphimon but I suppose that's out of even our reach at the moment. I have a clear jump to vander tower from here. I think it can take all of us. But I don't think... Cion! We should leave!"
K would call out to her friend, and given the chance would thumb the device for her home portal directly underneath her and her husband. Hopefully it'd stay open long enough for cion to follow through before Daemon could. As far as missions went, they were largely successful in getting some information at least...
Log:
-K was spared the destructive nature of Daemon's Javelins.
-K used her Team item: Home Portal to briefly open up one to get her and mikemon at the very least out. If cion decides to take it she too can escape.
-Well hopefully they all could.
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Post by Cion on Jun 5, 2019 18:12:03 GMT
Regrettably, Cion was no longer in the adequate mindset to contemplate, much less care, for the elysian figure that manifested itself in front K. The fact that it had served as a conduit to unleash empyreal retribution against Daemon was all she needed to know. Watching this archon of fiends suffer as his victims did was pure catharsis to the vulpine ascendant, granting her a brief yet venomously condescending grin. This was exactly what she wanted to behold and savor, for this was precisely the fate her enemies deserved - the anguish and agony imposed reflected upon them. Still, gloating gave way to quavery fury as her gleaming eyes noticed the battered, feral remnants of the former lord. Despite the torment it had suffered, this thing remained the same frenzied animal as before - a truly lost cause. The mad nonsense it babbled... meaningless words that had already rung hollow a thousand times in her ears. Nevertheless, its impudent refusal to finally pay its debts to nature was nothing short of odious. If the insane aspect of wrath had to meet its irrevocable end by her paws... "Then so be it!"Aureate fires flared skyward as her relentless impetus echoed throughout these barren parts of the dark wasteland. To her, it was inevitable that the doom voiced by the adversary was its own to incur in due time, and the unchained Arniomon was more than glad to be the executioner of this satisfying bane. For a mere blink of an eye, bluish, raw data and unformed code materialized themselves around her right hand and arm. It was her weapon... but it shifted into vorpal crimson. Gone was the adroitness of a lady as, at last, innermost animus surfaced. A storm of red sparks and energy enshrouded her frame, almost as if beckoned by the approaching villain. "Ter...ra's..." Cion whispered, though her voice managed to traverse the bleak vastness regardless. Willing to put everything on the line for her ambitions, the mostly incorporeal fox accepted the requisite pain. There was no reason to even consider an evasive maneuver. Yet, what were at first three piercing shrieks of death pangs yielded to a yell of insurmountable ire. In spite of her rage, she had been witness to the wretch's vile act. How could it dare... to utilize what was rightfully hers against those she cherished and protected? Well-nigh cradling herself in midair, the old sentinel forcefully dug its talons into its head, bared teeth showing as she did not cease channeling her assault through the perpetual hurt. Thoughts of the weak, pathetic wight pierced every crevice of her mind, tainting them with the desire for imminence. This inherently worthless, repugnant filcher had displayed the unbounded, unforgivable effrontery... taking her fruits of her aspirations and attempting to use it as a tool for decadence. No more - this was the final straw that caused the seemingly bottomless pit of her forbearance to definitively spill over. This once releasing a scream of primal incensement, the unyielding aspirant vanished into a sanguine veil of unstable force. With the immediate speed of a thunderbolt and the potency of a comet, she impacted with the dry surface mere inches in front of the epiphany of perniciousness. As she glared uncountable expletives into its silver irises, her perception of time slowed down drastically. Her goal was so nigh, and her target hopefully comprehended that she, the huntress, utterly dismissed the sentiment of abscondence. Indifferent towards the fact that her opponent glutted itself on this rotten lands' remaining life, the radiant vanguard sought to exploit the careless stance of her currently earthbound pray. Within the span of a single second, pebbles and dust of the soil she had rent soared upwards, engulfed in crimson bolts. Tearing through dirt, stone and sky, red runes and code depurated the nearby area. The presence of the D-Reaper's residue was crystal clear in its aura, but that was of no concern to Cion. If a brute could solely defend itself by detestable larceny, then why not show it what might earned in mortal combat truly was? Exclaiming an unadulterated, remorseless war cry, it appeared for an instant that she relinquished any sense of grace. Her maw was wide open, fangs figuratively longing for her haul's essence. Pupils narrowed, becoming thin slits that dwindled to a beastly tiny size. In this very moment, she challenged everything the fiend was... and its throne. What could an entity that was unable to see beyond itself possibly grasp of true wrath? The ongoing woes of constantly beholding billions of souls striving in vain versus the nihilism of one monster. ... It fathomed nothing. "... Wrath!" She bellowed at the top of her lungs, pushing her arms forward to enforce her judgment that carried the sin's name she gladly claimed and imposed on herself. As the second ultimately reached its expiration, a titanic swath of primordial power surged out of her body - the adjacent target being Daemon. Any impact, be it digimon or ground, caused the volatile mass of blood-red force to collapse in on itself. A crescent zone that was a hundred meter in radius burst apart abruptly as feral violence engulfed its path in red, ancient destruction. Vaporizing dead matter, the detonation emitted shock waves that fissured stone, reaching as far as the horizon. Eventually, only plumes of onyx smolders lingered, slowly fading away to tell the unbiased truth.
Battle Log:Passive:- Numen Aeternum: Reduced Physical Strength - Increased Maximum Health, Defenses and Pain Threshhold. Move: - Cion utilizes 'Terra's Wrath' to deal grave damage to daemon - Cion does not utilize Combat-Passive Ability 'Elysian Sanction'Buffs:
1) / 2) / Debuffs:1) / 2) / Active Effects On Enemies:- Enemies Struck by Elysian Sanction:1) Slightly reduced speed and mobility + small stacking shock damage (per lodged javelin {max. 3})
- Daemon:1) 1 or 1 Ethereal Javelins 2) / 3) / 4) / Cion's Cooldowns:1) Kismet Blessing: 4/4 2) Terra's Wrath: 0/3 3) Star Dust Surge: 2/3 4) Fate Weaver: 1/5 5) - Ability Durations:1) - 2) - |
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Post by Bonetrousled? on Jun 11, 2019 5:10:19 GMT
As Daemon landed with surprising grace, he was forced to do a double take. Rather than the tell-tale sound of a whelp being reduced to mere bytes, he had instead heard the pained grunt of a very much alive cat. Slowly Daemon's eyes narrowed in fury. He pointed a gnarled, taloned claw right at Mikemon, voice low. "Interloper," he hissed. "You may have vexed me today, but you will not be the one to savor the last laugh. Join the fight if you wish, but know that by standing before me you've sealed your fate! Only desolation, destruction, and an untimely death await y-"
Or, none of those things could await. K had opened a portal right under her and Mikemon's feet, and the two promptly dropped through the Earth with all the ease of Bugs Bunny. Daemon ran over to the portal, peering into it, but without sufficiently-credentialed data it felt as solid as a rock. "Seriously? Did you seriously just do that now?" he demanded, as if hoping in vain that his objections would reach Mikemon and K. "The least, the absolute least, you could have done was stand and fight! I didn't even have a chance to put you to the sword, cat! This is . . . this is . . ."
Yes, Cion. Yes this was wrath! Daemon blinked, turning to Cion in order to agree with her, only for him to notice the massive rush of energy hurtling forth from her.
Normally, such an attack would be enough to finish any fight. However, Daemon was far from an ordinary Digimon, and at least three attacks rivaling or even dwarfing the magnitude of the blow had been fired previously. Perhaps that was why shortly after Cion fired the attack, she would feel a clawed hand grasping right for her throat. Daemon had strode cleanly through the attack, and in absence of his preferred targets for the day was grabbing right at her. Steam poured from his body, and his eyes were glowing a maddened red instead of their usual pale blue color. A few cracks spread across his body, as if a shell of energy was being decimated by the attack, and yet he himself did not seem much worse off for the wear.
That wasn't for a lack of trying. The right side of the Icon of Sin had indeed been hit hard. It walls and battlements caved in, ever so slightly, and obsidian stone was starting to rain down from the many impact sites atop them. The fortress held strong. Any lair worth its salt wouldn't go down to the rages of a single battle. However, despite being downright pristine when it was raised from the Sea of Blood, now it looked far worse for the wear.
Whether Daemon reached Cion or she evaded his grip, darkness would start to engulf his hands. "I suppose I earned some catharsis," he muttered, keeping his eyes locked on Cion even if he needed to swivel his head like an owl to do so. "At least this day will end on a better note." As he said this he fired two blasts of Fel Lightning, one from each hand. One blast would be aimed directly at Cion, while the other would arc up and to the right to cut off a potential escape route.
Little did Daemon know, K and Mikemon's portal may not have deactivated yet. If Cion was able to maneuver around his onslaught, she, too, could end up home free.
Combat Log: Mikemon successfully shields K from Daemon's wrath, and the Home Portal opened by K allows the two to escape with impunity. The couple have successfully escaped Daemon, leaving a lingering escape route for Cion as well. Cion capitalizes on the distraction as Daemon rages in the face of their escape. However, while her Terra's Wrath attack is a direct hit, Daemon negates large portions of the damage with his Unyielding Rage. Unyielding Rage: Daemon channels his fury to the point where nothing can possibly stop him. Damage from all incoming attacks is halved, and any knockback that they would possess is reduced to zero. He strides through Cion's beam, then attempts to assail her with another two blasts of Fel Lightning. Known Passives in Play: Extra Sinful: Daemon's attacks hurt. Like, even compared to most Digimon beyond the limits of Super Mega, his attacks seem to be exceptionally painful. The energy siphoned from the other Demon Lords must be making quite the impact . . . and with Mikemon's machinations no longer in play, now Daemon is at his full power. Icon of Lust: Unknown. Icon of Greed: The Icon of Green lets Daemon get greedy with his turn, attacking multiple times. The extents of this passive are unknown. And it's back, baby! Icon of Gluttony: Unknown. Icon of Sloth: The Icon of Sloth allows Daemon to keep his mobility intact when another ability would hamper it. The extents of this passive are unknown. Icon of Wrath: The Icon of Wrath allows Daemon to ruefully overcome any defense in his way. The extents of this passive are unknown. Icon of Envy: The Icon of Envy allows Daemon to seize what he wishes to claim. The extents of this passive are unknown. Icon of Pride: The Icon of Pride refuses to be outshone. Buff effects active on Daemon's opponents are copied onto him. Cooldowns: Fel Lightning - Oops, no cooldown! Hateful Cleave - ?/? Hell's Bells - ?/? Apocalypse, Now - ?/? |
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Post by Dr. Mikemon on Jun 11, 2019 23:28:45 GMT
'We should leave!'
At this point, Mikemon needed little encouragement to get out of there - and with the portal opened up under his feet, he didn't even have to deal with that much! He practically felt the floor give out from under him, as both he and the Renamon tumbled back out into Vander Tower. Flat on his back, the cat gave a groan. "Alright, less than graceful..."
"M-mom! Dad!"
Oh, that was a pleasant sound to hear! Syre's voice echoed out into the portal room, right in front of Luke and Iko, the BlackGatomon rushing to K's side. The doctor himself slowly stood up, the spears starting to vanish from his chest, as he looked on at the portal behind him. "Cion hasn't made it out yet? Ugh... have to-"
"Fat chance." The wolf, Iko, shook his head. "Syre, get your mom to the med-bay. Listen to Garlond for now - and doc, just follow along with her. We'll keep an eye on the portal."
"A-aye..." Syre gave a nod, and taking her form as a Sistermon Noir, would carefully pick the exhausted Renamon up, letting her rest against her shoulder. The doctor would follow along with the pair a moment after - and as they fell out of earshot?
"What's the plan?" Luke cracked the knuckles of his left hand, as Iko gave a sigh.
"You keep the portal open. If Cion's not out here in the next two minutes, we're busting her out with 'Fenrir'."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 13, 2019 13:14:56 GMT
So much happened at once that K falling through the portal obscured practically half of it. She'd land hard on her back, grunting in pain as something else felt just off. She felt her heart twist and she'd grunt again in pain before slowly sitting up. She heard Daemon speak, sounding as though he was like a child grasping at straws. Her one eye eased up, out of focus as he spoke down at them.
The next there was just a blinding flash of power, no doubt from cion herself. The two words that the other spoke resonating powerfully within the area, but here it felt so jaded and distant that it might as well of been a comet shooting in the sky. K wanted to say something but she felt dizzy, she felt out of sorts. Out of place even.
Hearing her husband speak, quickly followed by her daughter made K's head swivel. Even if the world seemed to buckle underneath her. She'd force herself to stay up, gritting her teeth and trying to say just something during all of this. But then even further... There was luke and Iko. They took hold of the situation quickly, she'd close her eye and let out a shuddering sigh.
Her body felt like pins and needles were working through it, her daughter's touch so distant. Her head leaning against that shoulder of it's own accord and her good arm grasping at her daughter carefully. Her ear would flick at hearing Luke and iko speak to one another. Keeping the portal open and if needed jumping in to help.
Maybe just for once... It would be best if she let them do what they planned, any other time she might of reached out to stop them from jumping in. But here all her out of focus eye could manage was to swivel to them. Her voice was shaky and there was an audible voice byte crack in some of it.
"Make s-sure... to get out..."
From there? K was out of the fight, even slipping into unconsciousness as the wounds from the battle itself overtook her. But in the scope of things, they had done what they initially had set out to do. Which was find this icon of sin. They may not of succeeded in freeing the Seraphimon but even that was beyond them as it stood.
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Post by Cion on Jun 13, 2019 17:33:55 GMT
Was it pure, animalistic instinct or her heightened sense of awareness - somehow, in the last possible second, Cion had managed to flinch a single stride backwards as Daemon's avaricious hand grasped at her. Swiftly, smolders faded, giving the ablaze sentinel a clear, harrowing look at the intact fiend in front of her. In disbelieving shock, her previous rancor returned to her typical serenity, pupils widening as her outburst of fury was concealed by a tattered shell of grace and sophistication. "H-how... why?" She mumbled, although the answer received was not to her penchant. Gasping just before she could utter a biting response of her own, fel lightning was bequeathed upon her as retaliation. Crimson irises tracked her every movement, something she was capable of perceiving herself. Fortunately, at least for an instance, the frenzy of this unrivaled combat conquered her perturbation, allowing her to narrowly dash away in a blaze of aureate radiance. Halting diagonally to the position of the aspect of sin, she felt her left leg buckling as frenetic adrenaline slowly forfeited its effect of undermining bodily harm. Dear goodness... what kind of might was this wretched creature able to siphon? To her trepidation she would find out soon. Another bolt, though far from surprising, struck the vulpine ascendant directly, and the resulting tort was grave indeed. Her yelp was muffled by blustering energy and a detonation that most likely scorched the barren wasteland beneath her feet. The golden fennec's entire frame was jolted by the electricity, causing her to rapidly soar through the dust-dry air. Eventually, as all falling objects are bound to, her body impacted with the ground - or rather it tore itself into its surface, leaving behind a long trail of soil and dirt carved by the victim of this fell attack. For a moment, the dead silence of suspense lingered in the sky... yet what worth did a paragon have that surrendered itself to villains. Almost completely buried by earth, it was first her paw that jerked until the rest arose proudly to eternally defy a monster that had beckoned her relentless odium. At least... that was how Cion would have wished to face the vicious beast. The truth unfortunately did not capitulate to her cravings. Violent coughs, sharp gasps and dispersing debris echoed past the tranquil horizon of this battlefield as the fox mustered any ounce of endurance to claw herself out of the smutch. Each motion of her battered limbs was excruciatingly tremulous and slow. The very act of elevating herself, much less standing upright, seemed like a challenge infinitely greater than any mortal and deity. But as groans whizzed by her teeth, force of will, if nothing else, granted her the gratification of possibilities - collapse or victory. "Your kind... de...-serves... nothing..." The aspirant finally replied in unintentional whispers, bottomless hatred creeping out of her maw alongside mucky spit. Her initial intention was to add the exception of death, but speaking too had become an unfathomable strain upon every fiber of her being. Delusions of unbelief entered and tainted her fragile mind, for her spirit rejected the concept of inevitability. Nobody was akin to her! Clutching at the incorporeal flesh above her clamorous core, she unyieldingly demonstrated her absolute certainty in this reality. She was the master of her fate - no-one else was in control of her destiny anymore. Any enemy was merely an additional obstacle on her path towards ascension. They were... utterly meaningless. She was the protagonist of an idea that transcended this world's blight. She solely had to actualize it. No more vanities... no more tiny cog in a purportless system of everlasting decadence. And for as long as she had virtuous people by her side who had sworn to guard the present, the future was within her grasp. Naturally, despite her agony, Cion fathomed that K had performed a great sacrifice, so her capability to fight was probably rendered null. But, even in her wrath, she had seen the figures of Mikemon and the mysterious stranger. They evidently were potent vanguards, and if the three of them joined together, then no wight who gorged itself on raw evil was unstoppable. They... ... they... In an instant that claimed Cion's soul for a benumbed eternity, her gaze became entirely empty as the subsiding fervor innermost to her eyes dwelt on the deserted spot of the escape portal. Simultaneously, the poise of her stance faded to total spiritlessness, yet she remained not unlike a withered tree after a conflagration. Stillness did not only engulf the area, but her essence as well. Phlegm and effeteness reigned supreme as nothingness, at last, bore down on an old sentinel. Soft, cruddy winds streamed around her effete, motionless body, nearly ripping her off her feet. One knee conceded, partially forcing the vulpine fantast into the solid ground of... the plain truth. A thousand prevarications turned irrelevant as she found herself in a state that foreordination had endowed in its gratitude for her self-sacrifices time and time again. Uncountable trials... and she was alone. Shattered esperance was held together by a single question - why did she always receive what those she vanquished deserved? "... Why...?" She questioned as the discordant beating of her core rang vacuously in her mind.
Battle Log:
Passive:
- Numen Aeternum: Reduced Physical Strength - Increased Maximum Health, Defenses and Pain Threshhold.
Move:
- Cion utilizes 'Kismet Blessing' to heal herself
- Cion does not utilize Combat-Passive Ability 'Elysian Sanction'
Buffs:
1) /
2) /
Debuffs:
1) /
2) /
Active Effects On Enemies:
- Enemies Struck by Elysian Sanction:
1) Slightly reduced speed and mobility + small stacking shock damage (per lodged javelin {max. 3})
- Daemon:
1) 1 or 1 Ethereal Javelins
2) /
3) /
4) /
Cion's Cooldowns:
1) Kismet Blessing: 0/4
2) Terra's Wrath: 1/3
3) Star Dust Surge: 3/3
4) Fate Weaver: 2/5
5) -
Ability Durations:
1) Kismet Blessing 1/1: Status Effect Immunity
2) -
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Post by Bonetrousled? on Jun 17, 2019 2:53:10 GMT
"Why?"
A single question was all that answered Cion's. The harsh winds that blustered around died down at the word. The piercing red light exposed by K's meteor was swallowed back up by the dismal clouds above. The debris clattering to the ground from several explosive attacks had finally finished falling. And Daemon himself didn't even think to move, simply looking down at Cion as she asked her question. It was as if everything in the Dark Area besides Cion had fallen still. Even Daemon's usual bluster and ranting had come to an end, Daemon's voice taking on the same almost serene tone that it had at the start of the fight.
Slowly, he began to move forward, one step at a time. By the time he had approached the shaky Cion, he simply got down on one knee to take a closer look at her. With his height far greater than hers, this action was enough to bring them eye to eye. "Because this world we live in owes us nothing," he said, tone still strangely placid. "We are born into this world to fight, and strive, and kill, and die. And then we are reborn, to do so again. It is the destiny of all Digimon. Those who do not nurture it regress. Egg. Baby. Child. Adult. Data. And back to the beginning. Their lives are simple. Perhaps, fulfilling to them. But they experience but a fraction of the potential others do.
It is through combat that we grow beyond such boundaries. It is through combat that we develop into our perfect forms, and the steps further beyond. It is written into the very essence of our data. Look to the other world. Humans have little more than their flesh and the stumps of bone at the end of their hands. But we? We bend the elements to our will. We sprout weapons from our flesh. We take on forms with the might to weather occurrences that would drive their entire species extinct. We can even incorporate the fallen into our own bodies, standing to benefit directly from their suffering. And yet, even without our gifts, they still succumb to the siren's song of violence. What chance do we have?
You were born into a world of violence. Such is the means through which you interact with our world, and the way it repays you in kind. Why would such a world think to give you what you deserve? It simply presents it to you, and leaves it your choice whether to take it or not. And then it does everything in power to make this a challenge. It does everything in its power to force you to rise above. Only when you master this world can you claim what it presents. And even then, when you think to do so, it will do everything in its power to reclaim its gifts."
There was almost the hint of a smile to Daemon's voice as he continued. "I see a lot of myself in you, you know," he said. "We claim we know best. We claim it is a higher purpose that drives us. We claim that we shall be the tools that shape this world. Yet strip away all words, all excuses, all semblance of higher thought. We would still be on the forefront of the battlefield, seeking to lay waste to those who deny us. We would still relish in the slaughter of the fallen. We would still be driven by that same fundamental force:
Wrath."
With that he stood, turning his back on Cion and walking away. "I am taking Seraphimon and returning to my fortress," he said, as plainly as day. His more imperative tone from earlier bled back into his voice. "Consider what I said. And go home."
Combat Log: null Known Passives in Play: Extra Sinful: Daemon's attacks hurt. Like, even compared to most Digimon beyond the limits of Super Mega, his attacks seem to be exceptionally painful. The energy siphoned from the other Demon Lords must be making quite the impact . . . and with Mikemon's machinations no longer in play, now Daemon is at his full power. Icon of Lust: Unknown. Icon of Greed: The Icon of Green lets Daemon get greedy with his turn, attacking multiple times. The extents of this passive are unknown. And it's back, baby! Icon of Gluttony: Unknown. Icon of Sloth: The Icon of Sloth allows Daemon to keep his mobility intact when another ability would hamper it. The extents of this passive are unknown. Icon of Wrath: The Icon of Wrath allows Daemon to ruefully overcome any defense in his way. The extents of this passive are unknown. Icon of Envy: The Icon of Envy allows Daemon to seize what he wishes to claim. The extents of this passive are unknown. Icon of Pride: The Icon of Pride refuses to be outshone. Buff effects active on Daemon's opponents are copied onto him. Cooldowns: Fel Lightning - Oops, no cooldown! Hateful Cleave - ?/? Hell's Bells - ?/? Apocalypse, Now - ?/?[/quote] |
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Post by darkblade on Jun 17, 2019 5:05:12 GMT
Cion was not alone.
In the midst of battle, it might have appeared that the Arniomon had been abandoned. And against such an insurmountable foe, perhaps she ran into a lack of confidence - but as time ticked by during Daemon's monologue and that two-minute timer clicked away, Luke and Iko shared one nod with each-other, and stepped right on through to that space.
As a Champion and his tamer, perhaps they did not carry that much interest to Daemon. If nothing else, so long as the demon lord kept to his insane rant about this being a world of violence and wrath, neither Iko nor Luke would make any effort to attack or threaten the situation. It would only be after his words wrapped up, when Iko and Luke finally reached Cion's position, that they would give any sort of response.
Well, as much as one as they could reasonably muster at that point. Luke would help Cion up, going as far as to lift the god-like Digimon in his arms if he had to, as Iko gave an audible snort in Daemon's direction.
"It's quite easy to see the world through your own rage-tinted lens, isn't it? But, fine - strip away all the context of the world and of course it becomes the shallow meaning in which you find it."
He grit his teeth, and Luke shook his head. "We don't have time for this. Iko, we're leaving."
"Have fun with your little club here, Daemon." Tone dry and humor gone, Iko trudged his way back to the portal - sparing only one glance towards the icon of Pride, before proceeding to flip the bird towards Lucemon's effigy. But, provided that they could make this entrance, the two - hopefully accompanied by Cion - would make their exit just as quietly as they came.
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Post by Cion on Jun 18, 2019 17:54:20 GMT
Existing in her current state was an alien experience unlike any before to her. To Cion, it was almost as if her full consciousness had shut down as a protective mechanism. Physically, all pain, exhaustion and the dust-dry breeze turned utterly numb, enabling her to stand still with relative ease in spite of her shock. Likewise, the same numbness had her soul in its stranglehold, making every sensation and feeling faint as a candlelight's final tremor. From her gaze and feeble motions, it was clear to anyone that she remained very much aware of her surroundings, but it was as if it did not matter. Just as the deadly silent veil of dreariness once again claimed the dark, barren wasteland, so was the ablaze sentinel engrossed by innermost stagnancy. Solitude - in every conceivable way, it reigned supreme. While a thousand clashing thoughts passively wreaked havoc within her mind, her golden eyes shifted to the approaching aspect of sin... uncannily passive so. It was with utter phlegm that she watched it coming face to face with her. There was neither a hint of hostility nor a shred of defiance and trepidation, which was antithetic to her inner workings mere seconds ago. No...Instead, for a congealed fragment of hope inside her maintained awareness, she simply listened and processed the statements uttered - intertwining them with her waning confidence and reason. It was an oddity how the avatar of wrath spoke so... mannerly and eloquently. What she heard was not a rant of hubris and scorn, but... acumen, maybe even wisdom. Regardless of its ethics, it was as if she had finally met someone who understood her. No, there was more to it. They consented, like apart kindred spirits fated to reunite. To deny that a digimon's inherent nature was that of strive was naive. After all, as Daemon put it so concisely, digivolution was the quintessential means for this. Additional benefits aside from increased might were secondary. And civilization in the face of this savagery? A closer look at Terminus, Luminas and other capitals showed their true colors. Conflicts and quests for sway lingered there in a bed of vices. Xenophobia, destitution, crime... inaction. Few threats from outside easily devastated so-called achievements - as seen by the metropolis of angels. Despite the tools, people and potential at their disposal... life had stayed a perpetual, witless struggle for survival. Evidently, Cion too had attained her present apex through uncountable clashes and triumphs. Her goal was to enable others to rise, but wasn't solely power the instrument that permitted this? Yes... it indeed was. Although the fennec had little understanding of mankind, she had witnessed enough to conclude that the devil's assertions were feasible. She had encountered embodiments of said fierceness and decadence. Their concept of might was so limited, but they strove anyway. What chance did her species have given the higher state of being they were capable of obtaining? Was violence truly a universal imperative? A spirit born out of the frenzied deaths of three, aimlessly wandering the ages to find a realm called home. An armada that demolished culture and progress. A revolution spawned by rancor ending in total warfare. A black mist infecting the cores of innocent pacifists. A crimson plague that was completely mindless in its path of destruction. And now sins manifested, an occurrence transcending history... but not a single lesson was learned. That was her perspective and place in this uncaring, unchanging world. Ever since her first day and life untold eons ago, erupting discord had been the status quo of everyone and everything. Was that why she was alone? Had she not earned true kinship? Was she simply not sufficiently strong to master destiny and protect it from bane? Perhaps... things were this easy. Up until today, Cion thought of herself as unstoppable and inevitable in her pursuit to realize her unrivaled, pure ambitions. Why? Because she had risen above the weak and wicked. There was no more worries for every factor was dealt with. This day however proofed her perspective wrong. There was never an end, only increasingly arduous hardships. Her former denial, as Daemon declared correctly, had fueled the crux of her aspirations - wrath. The existences of her enemies meant nothing to her. No... this was not the complete truth. She endorsed their terminus and wholeheartedly considered it salvation. Ultimately, it was in the future she envisioned that they would gain peace, freed from previous taints. Raising her trembling paw, the gleaming beast looked at it with an empty expression. The distant ray of an epiphany demanded her whole focus. The nightmare soldier stepped away, old acquaintances from the wintry mausoleum suddenly appearing and disavowing the vile lord. It mattered not. Eventually, merely a sole word remained. "No..."As the vulpine vanguard felt the grip of Luke permeating the gentle warmth of her weakly blazing frame, it was as if someone tranquil snapped out of its coma. Gasping, she mustered the minuscule remnant of strength in her system to nudge the man's arm aside and tread forward. "No!" She exclaimed, simultaneously perceiving the suffering of her body once again. Wheezing and crashing onto her knees, her talons dug into the arid soil beneath her flickering form. Groaning, it was visible that Cion fought desperately for any second at her disposal. "You understand... hence you can't possibly accept... nor want this. Aren't you, by afflicting your nemesis, perpetuating what you envision to vanquish, blighting the higher purpose in the process? Didn't you suggest that you want to... break the cycle, as I do?" She questioned in pained whispers, recognizing the impure intelligence of her adversary. Coughing and writhing, the tiny fox's aureate aura faded, leaving behind a familiar yet broken, silver entity. "This strife, this... absolute meaninglessness. You are still dedicating yourself to it. The same path walked so often that you openly voiced your numbness to it. Rebirth, existence, death... countless times. Don't you grasp that this very persistence constitutes the standstill? What makes you conclude that this, or the next time, or the one after that, will be different!?"Effeteness imposed itself on all fibers of her corporeal vessel as her cheek rested on the cold, hard earth that was the 'Dark Area'. No tears marred her face as hollow irises lingered on the leaving lord. Would it contemplate her realization as she did its? Maybe... but did it actually matter? "It is us... always... isn't it? If everyone merely relinquished their strife, then the world would immediately be ours to master; forever..." She deduced in sorrowful whispers as her final, audible breath escaped her lips. Answered or not, Daemon and her fathomed the conclusion - alone to suffer it. It was the people who endlessly begot their woes - unable to change. Torpid from anguish and agony, but alive, the grip of the familiar man's hands raised her softly as she leaned on his shoulder. Carried away, Cion's motionless eyes dwelt on the icon of sin. What an alluring source of unutilized potential it was. Everything that could have been vitiated over innumerable ages... squandered possibilities. In a sense, she beckoned it to release itself. Rewriting wrongs, comprehending follies and learning from them, accepting vices and molding them into adequate tools. But the power, like the future itself, it was so far away... and soon completely out of sight once again. |
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Post by Bonetrousled? on Jun 25, 2019 2:45:48 GMT
Daemon didn't even seem to pay Iko mind. His walk home was almost uncharacteristically quiet, for a Demon Lord so defined by his wrath. Instead, it was Cion's words that made him slow his pace. He stopped just in front of Seraphimon, looking less at him and more through him as the angel weakly rasped. After a momentary pause he finally spoke. He didn't turn back to face Cion, but at least he took the time to address her. "You're right," he said. "If the world were to leave this all behind, then the world would be ours to master. A pity, then, that the world would not be so easily swayed. And all it would take is one who looks upon a world of peace and sees it as a weakness to take control of.
I am not the disease. I am the symptom. There will always be a Wrath."
He took Seraphimon off of the door to the Icon of Sin, a spurt of purple and black data pouring fourth from the angel's wounds. The angel's clear suffering didn't seem to move Daemon. In fact, he slung Seraphimon over his shoulder as carelessly as one would heft a sack of potatoes. Once the angel was settled Daemon spread his wings, taking to the air with a single, powerful thrust. It was only then that he looked down at Cion, Luke, and Iko, eyes narrowed in a mixture of frustration and disgust.
"This is not my first cycle, you know," he said, the silence between his words punctuated by the heavy sound of his wingbeats. Doing things gently did not seem to be in Daemon's playbook. "Most of the Icons do not give their holders second chances. But Wrath has a special place in its heart for those who resent its absence. Taking my throne back was no easy feat, yet it is not an effort that will be in vain. There are two ways of breaking the cycle, Arniomon. The first is as you said, to embrace peace until the world lets it stop moving.
The second is to crush it beneath your heel. Remember that."
Daemon turned with one last heavy wingbeat, and before long he had retreated into the Icon of Sin. The seven symbols glowing on its gate flickered briefly, then faded to grey. The thick clouds finally swallowed up the last bits of red light spilling onto the battlefield. The air around Cion began to grow stagnant and cold. Only Daemon's citadel lingered behind, cracked, battered, and broken, yet still standing tall.
At the very least, there would be no more bloodshed today.
THREAD COMPLETE
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