The Tempest (Demon Lords 2C)

It didn't matter how much ego these Swimmon had. As soon as a sweeter version of bread was mentioned, Ryouta had their attention hook, like, and sinker. The first Swimmon excitedly hopped up to his feet, cheering, "Yes, yes!" Then another hopped onboard. And another. And another still. The Swimmon at the front of the pack still kept to the waters, stubbornly racing one another in circles around the ship, but by now the grand majority were hopping atop the ship in hopes of getting Ryouta's secret stash. It was to the point where the ship was starting to tip. It wasn't severe enough of an imbalance for the ship to topple over, but the timbers were definitely starting to groan in protest.

Most of the questions were about the Ocean King. The Swimmon who first took to the ship opened its beak to speak, the rest of the mob instead looking up expectantly at Ryouta. "He's one of those big tentacle-y thingies. Like your friend, but not. He's like . . . like . . . a Gesomon! Yeah!" The Swimmon all started to pale at this description, and soon more of them started to pipe up with further descriptions.

"And instead of claws, he has more faces."

"And when he gets angry, his face glows light blue, and he gets really fast."

"We've never really seen all of him, either."

"Yeah! We just see those huge jaws break out from the waves, and then all the tentacle-mouths."

Needless to say, when Zachary asked if the Ocean King was a threat to them, the Swimmon were all too quick to nod in the affirmative. "He came into our home one day and started gobbling us up, one by one," the lead Swimmon said. "We don't know where he came from, or why. But he hunted us down one by one until we fled our reef. And then he started tearing it to bits! I think he was looking for more of us to hunt."

At the mention of swimming, the lead Swimmon shook his head. "He stopped chasing us when we fled. But just in case, we've been swimming ever since," he explained. "A nice angel told us if we kept on swimming, and kept on swimming, until we were the best we could be, we might have a chance of fighting him off and taking our home back. So we've been swimming ever since." Or, at least, they were swimming until the promise of cookies was brought up. A few cast guilty looks back at the water . . . but maybe they could afford a little snack break.

Was there anything else strange afoot? They thought for a second, but soon a little Swimmon at the end of the pack perked up. "People have been kinda mean around here lately, too," the little Swimmon added. "And the water's a lot more empty than most days. It's like all the ocean Digimon are hiding or something. The cave Digimon shoo us away or snap at us. The island Digimon tell us not to get near their islands. It's all just way too quiet.

You think the storms are making people cranky?"

The Swimmon seemed to be listening to Ryouta, at least. At the mention of two lines they divided into two even piles, the weight of the ship balancing back out. The deck groaned in relief as it could finally straighten itself again. Unfortunately, the second those piles tried to arrange themselves into lines, all hell broke loose. Immediately the Swimmon turned on each other, flailing their fins and their tails as they tried to cut to the head of the line.

"I was the fastest! I get first dibs!"

"Yeah? Then how am I in front of you?"

"Well, I'm so strong, I could just knock you guys in the water and take it all for myself."

"Not me! I'm the biggest one here."

"Too bad. I deserve it the most. I'm the most handsome of them all."

Immediately the Swimmon stopped squabbling, looked at the handsome one, and threw him overboard. It shook a fin in anger as it tried to hop back aboard, but by then the others were back to their self-directed feeding frenzy. At this rate, would any of them even have time to eat cookies before the interrogation was over?

At least the first Swimmon to hop onboard was keeping sane. Maybe that was because he was already at Ryouta's feet, and therefore had easy access to all the cookies he could want. He tore into the bag like a piranha on a cow carcass, occasionally giving "mm-hmms" of affirmation at Ryouta, Zachary, and Amelie debated the nature of the Ocean King.

At mention of the Gesomon X, its eyes widened in shock. Its jaw dropped, leaving crumbs of cookie tumbling out of its mouth. "Yeah! Yeah, I think that's the Ocean King," the Swimmon said. "It's the one that's got mouths on its tentacles, right? That has to be it. And trust me, if you think it's gross now, wait until you see one tearing your home apart." It shuddered, and the mention of this finally got the other Swimmon to stop squabbling. At least with them quieting up, cookie distribution would be so much easier.

It nodded along as Amelie mentioned the storms. "There was a storm just approaching when we were leaving, yes," the Swimmon said. "It came right behind the Ocean King, as if it was bringing the storm with it. While we were swimming away we saw lightning strike the seas, and spikes of ice rise right out of the water. Why would you ever want to go that wa-"

Immediately, the Swimmon hushed itself, before breaking out into a big smile. "I, uh. I mean, thanks, brave heroes! For helping us save our home!" it added, as if realizing it was just about to scare away potential helping hands. "We can help lead the way, if you want. That should help stop you guys from getting lost. What do you say, guys? Are we helping?"

The Swimmon were finally gnawing on their cookie packs, perfectly content. ". . . Okay, they'll help later. But come on, let's set sail!" the Swimmon cheered.

By now, most of the Swimmon had taken their bags of cookies, devoured them, and dove into the water without any further fuss. About half of the school took a look at the ship, did an about face, and resumed swimming away. The other half fell in step with the ship, swimming inpatient circles around it as they waited for Amelie to get the ship in motion. Finally, the lead Swimmon hopped back into the water, thrashing his tail to get the attention of his fellows. "Alright!" he shouted, straining his voice to be heard over the chattering of his fellow Swimmon. "Boat people, other Swimmon, follow me! I'll get us back to our reef in no time." With that declaration, he hopped high into the air to signal he was ready, then took off in a heedless charge.

The ice was the first sign that something was off. At first it wasn't anything too noticeable, perhaps a few scattered crystals causing the water to shimmer more than usual. However, shimmers quickly gave way to chunks, and the further Amelie, Zachary, and Ryouta sailed the larger these chunks became. The metallic scoop at the front of the ship did wonders to crush these smaller sized chunks, but how long would it be before they started finding chunks that could do some real damage?

The storming didn't help matters. Hard rain battered down on the ship like a machine gun, and the waves were hitting high enough for water to splash onto the deck of the ship. Thunder clapped and lightning flashed with increasing frequency, loud enough to drown out any attempts at speech. It was no longer a distant phenomenon, either: as the group sailed past a particularly large chunk of ice, lightning crashed down and splintered it into thousands of pieces. If the ship's navigators weren't on the ball, icy shrapnel would embed itself right into the hull!

By now, navigation had to be getting hard. And unfortunately, proper navigation was exactly what the trio needed right now. A Swimmon hopped up, shouting "Look out!" before promptly scattering away from the ship. Its fellows followed, swimming to the left and right as if trying to get as far from the ship as possible. If anyone looked up, they would quickly see the reason why.

A massive ball of ink hurtled down from the sky, as if it had been launched out of a trebuchet. It landed right in front of the ship, in a perfect position to crush the Swimmon had they not already sailed out of the way. While this direct attack had missed, it kicked up a massive wave in its wake. Water and ink gushed onto the deck in thick torrents, and the murky black liquid billowed through the water in wispy clouds. Judging from the distance the Swimmon were keeping they did not want to touch it, but at least it didn't seem to be causing any damage to the ship's hull.

Unfortunately, the other balls of ink hurtling from the sky could. If one was to watch the skies, they would notice another three balls coming shortly after the first landed. Would the crew of the Diplomat be able to navigate through without being shelled, or were they in for a pounding?

Ink splattered across the bow of the ship in great, gushing torrents. Thankfully Mytholomon's barrier had taken all the force out of the assault. What once threatened to cave the ship inwards was now little more than a slippery inconvenience painted all over the ship's sides. The deck, mercifully enough, had been spared. Valt was on point to stop a second ball of ink, slicing it cleanly in half. It lost all shape as it was cut up, ink harmlessly raining down into the waves below.

The last ball of ink landed to the ship's sides again, creating a large, blackene waves that washed over the deck. A few Swimmon, caught up in the tides, were sent spiraling above the ship as each wave pounded down. While none of this had been enough to damage the ship's hull, the waters were now exceptionally rough and choppy. Attempts at steering the ship in any direction would be met with struggle as the seas themselves pushed back.

As all this went on, Ryouta called for Ophanimon. As soon as he opened communications his ears would be met by a burst of static. "Hello?" Ophanimon asked, voice raised. "I can barely hear you. The winds here are-" Loud howling and a high-pitched whistle interrupted her thought. "I said, the winds here are like nothing we've seen before! It's taking all my power to prevent the ice from shredding our sails.

Wait. Did you say ice, too? I need to k-"

With that question, the static stopped abruptly. Any further attempts at reaching Ophanimon, at least for the time being, would be met with silence. Ryouta would only be able to hope that she was able to hear what he was saying in the face of the winds.

That left Valt on recon duty. The first thing that he'd notice as he tore through the ink ball was that it was incredibly sticky. The Ulforce prevented it from weighing him down, but a Digimon without such protection may have found themselves slowed in midair or even stalled out entirely. And that was with the momentum of flight: what could such ink possibly do to a Digimon that couldn't fly? It was also very slippery, and were it not for the Ulforce Valt may have found his blade slipping cleanly out of his hands. Even moreso than damage to the ship, the ink's ability to rob any crew of their sea legs would be even worse.

Past the volley, Valt would notice not one but three white triangles sticking above the waves. The largest of the three dwarfed the other two, was crowned by a row of golden earrings, and had a somewhat unsettling light blue tint to its skin. The other two were a pinker shade of white, looking somewhat tattered by comparison. They could only be Gesomon X and a pair of regular Gesomon. Shortly after Valt approached the three stopped, the two normal Gesomon diving deep below the waves. A faint trail of bubbles and foam traced a path towards the ship, but it fizzled out far before visible range of the ship. Had they dove too deep to be spotted, or was this simply a feint?

Gesomon X rose instead of sinking, blood-red gums and three layers of teeth on full display as it rose to its full height. Seemingly not noticing Valt, it simply continued smashing the waters in a furor. Waves sprayed seafoam into the air each time the X-Antibody Digimon lashed out, but they didn't seem to move towards any particular target. What was it even doing?