88Y - Episode Terminus: Light's Victory (Solo) [Complete]
Jul 13, 2021 4:12:21 GMT
Post by Areleh on Jul 13, 2021 4:12:21 GMT
MPC Name: Odaiba Memorial
MPC Number: 88Y (70A)
Reward Requested: Posts (Champion or Below tier)
---
"This is it... This is the end of the world."
Areleh was surprised at just how calm he felt, considering what had transpired in just forty-eight hours. The Digital World was in ruins; the Eastern Timberlands had been thoroughly torched, whole swaths reduced to smoldering ash and fading Digital Code. Great ravines had split the landscape with massive gouts of lava splashing and slicing through the air in impossible arcs. The Western Flatlands had not faired any better, now little more than a collection of flooded sinkholes. Small islands of sandy dunes could still be found above the rushing seawater, but so much of the desert was gone it was truly frightening how rapidly water had replaced endless sand.
There was a flash, a streak of pure white across the sky, and then distantly an explosion came that heralded more devastation. To the north, the frozen mountains of the Nothern Prominence, the place where he had first stepped foot into the Digital World, vanished. Briefly, even from this distance, he could see the tops of the mountains hover above nothing before shattering and dissipating into raw Digicode that was consumed by the light. Everywhere the light went, destruction followed.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. NeoMyotismon had gathered a cadre of powerful, dark Digimon to his side and had launched a conquest of the Digital World. The fighting was brutal in the beginning, none of the peaceful Digimon had any reason to suspect such horrors were looming over them until it was far too late. Continents had been ravaged and whole villages of Digimon had been deleted in a mad scramble for power. But even as NeoMyotismon's faction made headway, there were those who resisted. A group of Digimon and humans, Areleh included among them, had stepped forward to defend the Digital World.
At least, that was how it started.
The fighting had been fierce, and there were casualties on both sides. None could escape that inevitability of war. It was painful to see places with so many fond memories go up in flames and succumb to darkness, but Areleh knew that there was a greater price that would have to be paid if they did not resist. It had been more than he could bear, the notion of sitting back and doing nothing had propelled him to the front lines with a desperate desire to save those he could. The war had cost him personally as well, beyond just friends that were no longer among the living.
He flexed his right hand, still marveling at the brilliant silver that met his eyes when he looked down at his arm. In one of the battles, his right arm had been lost at the elbow. Fortunately for himself, a smith Digimon had some Digizoid lying around that sufficed as a prosthetic replacement material. It was light, and somehow he could still feel through it, even if the sensations were odd. A stray gust and a stinging cold in one finger made him turn and look at the other figure in the cave with him.
"I hope you're happy, Myotismon."
Mytotismon turned his head a fraction, his baleful eye looking down at Areleh with disdain. A cruel smirk played over his pale lips. "I must admit; as a being of chaos and ruin myself, I find myself a fan of his work. There's something simply inspired about it. There is an all-encompassing totality that is to be admired." His faint smirk turned into a deep scowl as another mountain vanished in a pillar of white. "Though I confess, I would rather not have the whole of the Digital World ruined before my ascension. I cannot rule over oblivion. Think of the dinner parties. What would I put out for my guests?"
A shadow passed over the sun, plunging the world beneath into chaos. There were no clouds anymore. A shadow from on high now could only mean but one thing. Nothing existed now to contest its presence within the Digital World. It had seen to that. Because it was obscuring the sun, or perhaps in spite of obscuring the sun, it glowed a menacing white. None who basked in that terrible radiance felt anything but despair.
Its lithe form was held aloft by the gentle flapping of two massive, feathered wings. Each one far eclipsed the being in size, yet paled in comparison to its personal radiance. Its gauntleted hands held between them the instruments of the Digital World's end; in its right hand it brandished a blade, a long, curved thing that seemed to be as long as one of its wings and radiated danger more than anything could hope to, while in its left hand came forth a long, wide barrel, its dark aura eclipsed only by the menacing growl that slowly built within it.
Areleh and Myotismon both turned to look upward at the figure in turn. Their gazes were steady, though each displayed markedly different emotions. Myotismon's dark red eyes were filled with naked envy and inhuman rage as he gazed upon a power he had never possessed nor would ever know now. he reached a clawed black hand to the sky to shield his eyes as if even the figure's shadow was too brilliant for him to even look upon.
For his part, Areleh stared at the figure as it lowered slowly towards the ground with eyes filled with righteous defiance and abject contempt. He balled his hands into fists, shaking with impotent rage; knowing, without a doubt, that he was about to be deleted and that there was nothing he could personally do to stop it from deleting him, and then the entire Digital World. That it, of all possible beings, would be the one to bring about the Digital World's end would have been a laughable thought had he not locked eyes with those calm, deep pools of blue and once more beheld that terrible finality in them.
This was the end of the Digital World.
"Omnimon..."
---
WC: 1,003
MPC Number: 88Y (70A)
Reward Requested: Posts (Champion or Below tier)
---
"This is it... This is the end of the world."
Areleh was surprised at just how calm he felt, considering what had transpired in just forty-eight hours. The Digital World was in ruins; the Eastern Timberlands had been thoroughly torched, whole swaths reduced to smoldering ash and fading Digital Code. Great ravines had split the landscape with massive gouts of lava splashing and slicing through the air in impossible arcs. The Western Flatlands had not faired any better, now little more than a collection of flooded sinkholes. Small islands of sandy dunes could still be found above the rushing seawater, but so much of the desert was gone it was truly frightening how rapidly water had replaced endless sand.
There was a flash, a streak of pure white across the sky, and then distantly an explosion came that heralded more devastation. To the north, the frozen mountains of the Nothern Prominence, the place where he had first stepped foot into the Digital World, vanished. Briefly, even from this distance, he could see the tops of the mountains hover above nothing before shattering and dissipating into raw Digicode that was consumed by the light. Everywhere the light went, destruction followed.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. NeoMyotismon had gathered a cadre of powerful, dark Digimon to his side and had launched a conquest of the Digital World. The fighting was brutal in the beginning, none of the peaceful Digimon had any reason to suspect such horrors were looming over them until it was far too late. Continents had been ravaged and whole villages of Digimon had been deleted in a mad scramble for power. But even as NeoMyotismon's faction made headway, there were those who resisted. A group of Digimon and humans, Areleh included among them, had stepped forward to defend the Digital World.
At least, that was how it started.
The fighting had been fierce, and there were casualties on both sides. None could escape that inevitability of war. It was painful to see places with so many fond memories go up in flames and succumb to darkness, but Areleh knew that there was a greater price that would have to be paid if they did not resist. It had been more than he could bear, the notion of sitting back and doing nothing had propelled him to the front lines with a desperate desire to save those he could. The war had cost him personally as well, beyond just friends that were no longer among the living.
He flexed his right hand, still marveling at the brilliant silver that met his eyes when he looked down at his arm. In one of the battles, his right arm had been lost at the elbow. Fortunately for himself, a smith Digimon had some Digizoid lying around that sufficed as a prosthetic replacement material. It was light, and somehow he could still feel through it, even if the sensations were odd. A stray gust and a stinging cold in one finger made him turn and look at the other figure in the cave with him.
"I hope you're happy, Myotismon."
Mytotismon turned his head a fraction, his baleful eye looking down at Areleh with disdain. A cruel smirk played over his pale lips. "I must admit; as a being of chaos and ruin myself, I find myself a fan of his work. There's something simply inspired about it. There is an all-encompassing totality that is to be admired." His faint smirk turned into a deep scowl as another mountain vanished in a pillar of white. "Though I confess, I would rather not have the whole of the Digital World ruined before my ascension. I cannot rule over oblivion. Think of the dinner parties. What would I put out for my guests?"
A shadow passed over the sun, plunging the world beneath into chaos. There were no clouds anymore. A shadow from on high now could only mean but one thing. Nothing existed now to contest its presence within the Digital World. It had seen to that. Because it was obscuring the sun, or perhaps in spite of obscuring the sun, it glowed a menacing white. None who basked in that terrible radiance felt anything but despair.
Its lithe form was held aloft by the gentle flapping of two massive, feathered wings. Each one far eclipsed the being in size, yet paled in comparison to its personal radiance. Its gauntleted hands held between them the instruments of the Digital World's end; in its right hand it brandished a blade, a long, curved thing that seemed to be as long as one of its wings and radiated danger more than anything could hope to, while in its left hand came forth a long, wide barrel, its dark aura eclipsed only by the menacing growl that slowly built within it.
Areleh and Myotismon both turned to look upward at the figure in turn. Their gazes were steady, though each displayed markedly different emotions. Myotismon's dark red eyes were filled with naked envy and inhuman rage as he gazed upon a power he had never possessed nor would ever know now. he reached a clawed black hand to the sky to shield his eyes as if even the figure's shadow was too brilliant for him to even look upon.
For his part, Areleh stared at the figure as it lowered slowly towards the ground with eyes filled with righteous defiance and abject contempt. He balled his hands into fists, shaking with impotent rage; knowing, without a doubt, that he was about to be deleted and that there was nothing he could personally do to stop it from deleting him, and then the entire Digital World. That it, of all possible beings, would be the one to bring about the Digital World's end would have been a laughable thought had he not locked eyes with those calm, deep pools of blue and once more beheld that terrible finality in them.
This was the end of the Digital World.
"Omnimon..."
---
WC: 1,003
