Taking Up The Black - Demon Lords 2F

Such diverse Digimon, all coming from different walks of life and sectors of the Digital World, and yet one driving force seemed to unify them. Their sins were as varied as the were many, yet the core of Wrath beat within them all. And yet, was it really such a surprise? Some would say that Wrath was the ur-sin, festering in the desire left behind by its cousins. It was one thing to simply covet. It was another to destroy, or to harm, or to kill in order to feed such coveting. At least, that was what Daemon seemed to believe: his Icon of Wrath sat right in the center of the other six, its sickly orange color glowing to a nearly white light. Pride and Envy continued to glow against its overbearing light, but the Nohemon's question seemed to have been answered.

It opened its mouth to speak, only for the great gates of the Icon to part. Stepping through a vortex of shadows came a tall, elegant figure with a skeletal ewe's head. While it wore very elegant clothing, it was clearly no stranger to battle; a massive power was radiating off of it, and it bore what seemed to be a fresh war wound. Indeed, one of its arms had been sliced clean off, leaving a few peals of wispy flame behind. Nevertheless, it didn't seem perturbed by the injury in the slightest. It regarded its arm just as neutrally as it regarded the three Digimon standing before it. What Digimon could this be but a Mephistomon X? "Jack. Carrie. Hasenya. We've been expecting you," it said. It spoke the voices of a distorted-sounding man, a soothing-sounding woman, and a young child simultaneously.

"It is wrath that ties your hearts as one, is it not?" the Mephistomon X asked. "Then that means you have been chosen to dwell within the chambers of my master himself. It is no rush. We have the rest of eternity before us to pay him such a visit. Yet as a humble servant, it would be remiss of me not to make you aware of the option.

Crow." The Nohemon's crow immediately saluted, its scarecrow jerkily repeating the motion. "You will let them pass unhindered. And if any ill fate befalls them within these walls, I will make it known to our master who allowed it. Is this understood?" There was neither malice nor triumph in this threat. It was merely stated as if it were an inevitability. Its point made, Mephistomon X stepped to the side. A vortex of shadows extended through the doors behind it, as if stretching into infinity. "You may explore the city as you wish. Simply think, or feel, where you wish to go, and it shall be brought before you.

And do be careful. For better or for worse, our master keeps a close eye on those of his ilk."

Servitude. Loyalty. Importance. Such were the thoughts going through the group's head as they stepped through the vortex of shadows. Perhaps on their way out, they would notice the slightest hint of a smile on Mephistomon X's face. Or, was it a smile? Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, the pink flames wreathing their skull and the shadows peeling off of the void making their expression an enigma. Regardless of their expression, they nodded. Their many voices would be the last thing the assembled trio heard before stepping inside.

"Take caution, wanderers. The things we seek may not always be what we truly wish to find."

With their priorities aligned, the group both entered and exited the portal in unison. The first thing they would notice about their new destination was the sheer size of it. The columns holding the room up, each carved from polished black marble, was the size of a miniature skyscraper. A large, stained-glass dome depicting the symbol of Wrath sat high above those columns, so high in the sky that the Dark Area's blood red light could barely be seen through it. Even at ten feet tall, the doors on each side of the room were dwarfed by comparison. Red carpets unfurled from each door, connecting to an enormous mahogany desk in the middle of the room. Currently manning that desk was a Titamon, resting his chin into the palm of an exceptionally-calloused hand as he read through sheets of musty papyrus. Rather than his Zanjintou he held a proportionally-sized pencil, although the handle of his blade could be seen poking from behind his desk. Occasionally he stopped, grumbled, and hefted his pencil to scrawl some markings on his paperwork. All the while he drummed his big, meaty fingers against his chin, the simply gesture sending echoes through the room.

For such a spaced-out Digimon, he was surprisingly attentive. The second he noticed the portal opening he snapped his head to the group, barking out a quick "Hey! You!" As he pointed to the group, it was clear his arm was long enough to poke them if he wanted to. How did he even fit in here? "Ain't question time for another half an hour. I don't give a Chuumon's ass if you took a shortcut, get on out and wait like everyone else.

. . . Wait a minute. Ain't that the Icon portal? Shit, didn't think Daemon had another assignment for here." He looked the trio up, then laughed uproariously. It was forceful enough to send him tipping back in his oversized chair. "And I thought I was screwed! Bet you three can't even lift this pencil." As if to demonstrate he leaned over, dropping the pencil right next to Jack. It landed hard enough to shake the room.

At the very least, Titamon seemed to be mocking their shared situation, not mocking the newcomers directly. Despite his rather brutish laughter earlier, the smile on his face was surprisingly easygoing. "Well, good to have some new meat around here for a change," he said. "What're you in for?"

Titamon half-listened to everything the new hires had to say, but his eye continued wandering to an equally-massive clock atop his desk. Each second's tick sounded like a sledgehammer crashing through a sheet of plywood. It was Carrie who first caught his attention. Her remark on how different the halls of Wrath seemed to her expectation got Titamon to stop looking around the room, instead focusing down entirely on her. "Hell, kid. You and me both," Titamon said. There was a wistful look in his eyes as he sat back down in his chair, taking his giant pencil with him. "I was a Wrath too, y'know. At my peak, I thought I could tear Yggdrasil clean out of this server. Took all the damn Royal Knights to take me down: ol' Seraphimon never even had a shot that cycle. And once the Crown left me, took a body this damn big to hold all the strength.

Come on back to the Icon of Sin, and you know what the current guy tells me? 'We don't do it like that anymore.' Now it's all armies, and strate-whats, and logisti-whos. And he tells me I'm the guy that's gotta keep all those in line. You know what I called an army back then?" He flexed his muscles. "Lefty and Righty. Only damn army I needed." With that said he slumped back in his chair, sighing. "At least if anyone's not pulling their weight, I get to pound 'em into data. That's a nice bit of relief."

With his rant finished, Titamon looked back down at the crew he'd assembled. The Gotsumon was the confident, smart type, and while Titamon had no need for those fancy-shmancy "degrees" she at least seemed like she could pull her own weight. The Veemon was servile and humble. He looked like the kind of guy that'd be eaten alive out of these walls, but those always made the best toadies. Finally, the purple fox was an enigma. She didn't even flinch through all of this, and she said she could lift a pencil bigger than she was? Strange.

"Alright. Today's gonna be ah ell of a day, you know," Titamon explained. "Those angels've been sending lesser Digimon to do their dirty work, and that means they can get their fingers in way more of our business than usual. And that means Daemon's gonna be scrambling as many of us as he can to get a handle on things. And you know what that means? It means I'm gonna have questions coming at me from all directions. I might be a loud guy, but I've only got one mouth. And I just know if someone bugs me out of turn, I'm gonna crush 'em. That's good for morale, not so good for numbers. So I'm gonna need you guys to help direct traffic, okay? Answer questions, sign off on orders, get people to shut up and leave my damn office. All that stuff.

And yes, that means if they start getting out of line, you can give 'em a good pounding. Get it? Got it? Good." With that Titamon leaned back in his seat, staring down the clock. "You kids are on in a minute, so if you got any questions better get 'em out while you can."

Titamon groaned as he listened to Archon and Hasenya's description of the job. "Ugh. You've got no idea how often Beelzemon's boys kept bugging me about that kinda crap. Do I look like the kinda guy who cares how many pickles go on the damn burger?" At the very least his weariness was good natured, or at least as good natured as it could be coming from a Digimon who looked forward to the chance to clobber some clients. "Keep it to the guys with a point behind their rambling, and you and I'll get along just fine."

At the mention of reference book, Titamon grinned ear to ear. "Oh. You want a book? You'll get that book, alright," he said. He reached behind his desk, visibly straining as he hefted up a book as big as his entire upper body. He leaned over the desk to drop it down, the book landing with enough force to launch anyone on the ground into the air. "Daemon's a stickler for all these damn rules. I'll hand it to him, he's got the sin down pat. Cause if I look at so much as three pages of this damn thing, I'm already seeing red. But if you can actually turn the cover, you should find answers to anything that's got you stumped."

Just then, a Clockmon walked into the room. "We're getting started . . ." he said in a monotone voice, trailing off as he looked down at a watch on his wrist. "Right now." It turned to leave, only noticing Archon, Hasenya, and Carrie on its way out. "Oh. Newcomers. Try not to die," it added, slamming the door behind it.

No sooner did it slam the door then all three doors fling themselves open. A crowd of demonic, undead, and otherwise dark Digimon flooded into the room, their voices blending into an impenetrable cacophany. Only the earthquake-like sound of Titamon stomping the ground got them all to shut up. "Oh, shut up already!" he shouted. "You're all in luck today. We've got some new blood today, and they'll be hearing you out. But that just means you'd better not be bugging me, you hear? Now, one at a time. Or else."

Archon was the first to be approached, a Vulcanusmon storming over to him. "The damage of the fortress' outer walls has presented a brilliant opportunity," he explained. "The walls are made of an alloy that the Digital World hasn't seen in generations. In all of my cycles, I've never had the fortune of handling such a metal. Yet that prideful fool, Daemon, refuses to let me even come close to it. He keeps demanding weapons of me, but refuses to let me arm our forces with a potential tide-turner. Does he not know what a master artisan such as I can do with such material? Make him see reason! Grant me access!"

Carrie would be approached by a D'arcmon. However, her armor was a jet black rather than the golden color most bore, and there was a somewhat unhinged look to her eye. Was this a fallen angel? As she eyed the sulfurous Gotsumon up and down, the unhinged look seemed to soften. "Please. Please, please, you need to help me," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I need to know I did the right thing. I need to be sure. Now that I've heard Luminas has started to forgive instead of purge, I just keep wondering, you know? Whether I should go back. See if they'll have mercy on me. I can't serve Lord Leviamon's forces properly if my heart keeps faltering like this. I just know she'll see it written on my face. Please, how do I find the strength I need?"

Hasenya found herself with a lot more company on her hands. An entire swarm of Bakemon surrounded her, each evenly spaced from one another. To the front of the group was a Soulmon, who led them all in a salute. "Pride Squadron, Spirit Squad, reporting for duty!" the Soulmon said. "We have a crisis of succession on our hands! My platoon is demanding I pass along the Hat of Leadership to one of them, to commemorate their achievements in Lucemon's eyes. I, for one, think I'm damn well deserving of this hat! How do I get this rabble to calm down already?" The other Bakemon didn't say a word, but made a variety of groans and howls in protest. Was Soulmon seriously the only member of the Spirit Squad that could speak?