A lone man stood at the entrance to he deserted Shinjuku Stadium. His eyes viewed the lobby through the protection of his motion visor. There were several promos and advertisements for the local football team’s season dotted around the main floor. Since the clock in his heads up display (H.U.D) ticked near midnight, none of the vendors left their concessions open, heavy padlocks connecting the metal window covers to the counters. The lobby was empty, plenty of walking room to the top level.
The special operations marine lugged his equipment up the nearest ramp with several more to traverse. Sniper rifle strapped to his back, a duffle filled with rations, vest pockets filled with ammunition, and a pistol side arm with grenades on the standard issue belt. Enough weight to slow a standard marine’s march to a straggling crawl, lucky for the marine he was a Jade Dragoon. These elite soldiers were built since the day they were conceived, fed hormones until young adulthood then trained day and night, three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. To distinguish themselves from any regular army personnel each soldier wore jade green armor on their arms, chest, back, abdomen, anterior thighs and shins. Even their shoes had bits of armor soldered to them by altered steel.
Disappointment filled William Jacob Myrand’s face when he looked down to the lightweight vest that is issued to the regular warriors for urban combat. This made him unprotected and insulted, not to mention his pride bruised by the doctor’s discreet judgment of his latest battle scars. Passing more promos and a sign signifying his presence on level F, Myrand stopped his long power strides. Seconds passed as he placed a gloved hand over one of his many scars under the urban camouflage uniform. That experience would remain buried in his mind until his eventual death as a Jade Dragoon.
Pushing these
stressing thoughts aside, Myrand resumed his climb to the highest level. Given
his mission orders he wasn’t going to see anything of interest when reaching
the said destination. Just watch over the stadium and the parking lot until the
morning crews start to file in for another workday. Simple enough, slightly
condescending, but an easy job nevertheless. Thoughts of money danced in
Myrand’s head for the rest of the trek delusions in buying luxurious yachts or
beautiful women that lived in
Flood lights built overhead illuminated the field with such power it seemed to be daylight, the chalk white lines designed into a soccer field were distinct from where Myrand stood. Seats lined his left and right, the endless bleachers stretched beyond the focus and encompassed the entire stadium. The scoreboard poised over the field flashed a blank score repeatedly as if being manipulated by some other force.
Myrand sighed in boredom climbing into the highest set of bleachers, setting his rifle and duffle bag against the chain-link safety fence then sat down on the edge of the bleacher row. Through his visor the stars seemed dulled while the moon remained hazed from the thick plastic visor. This is an absolute waste of time. Before boredom set in the soldier unzipped the first pocket on his vest and pulled out a thin point bullet. The shell was thick with a green sticker band wrapped around the gold face whilst the sharp tip of the bullet remained uncovered and deadly.
For old times he placed the Ripper Shell into the chamber and loaded it, then switched the safety. Recent experience warned him about sneak attacks from behind so the pistol strapped in the holster was laid next to him loaded and safety set to off. Rifle lying obedient in his lap, Myrand watched the clouds boil past the moon trying to fall fast asleep. He zippered the vest pouch closed before fatigue over took him.
Ripper Shells
were a special favorite of his. Packed inside the gold shells were layers of
serrated diamond sheets capable of tearing reinforced steel to thin strips of
metallic confetti. The only cartridges manufactured were those to fit for
sniper rifles and issued to elite soldiers for testing. Needless to say they
passed with flying colors in his first mission fighting for Nova Cortez,
Suddenly there was a faint static disturbance within his headset. “Hello? Myrand? Testing, testing, one… two… three…”
“Yea I hear you sir, what’s new?” Myrand asked with little regard on hiding his boredom.
There was a slight pause, a rough cough then the burly voice of Sergeant Roland came back. “Who’s winning the game?”
“Nothing yet, no signs of monsters, or humans, or even a damn moth sir.”
“A damn shame really, you want out? I can get you a Pelican to pick you up on the field.” Sergeant Roland said. “You can pick us up some beer as well.”
Myrand cast his gaze down on the field for a brief moment, watching some fog roll in from the team tunnels. Strange, the weather report said nothing about fog, but still he passed it off as being a fluke than anything else. Purple hazed the field distorting the color of green into a muggy brown turning it into a strange gothic stage.
“What are digimon again?” Myrand asked, clueless of what he was taught in training so many years ago. “And why are we trying to kill them?”
There was that classic pause before the veteran answered. “Filth from the internet.” Another pause. “Something about data turning into fake proteins or some shit like that, that’s how these ugly bastards’ get into the real world I think.”
“So you have no clue either.”
A chuckle followed Myrand’s statement, “All I know is how to kill those disgusting bastards.” Somehow the sergeant uttered a chuckle between breathing, fueled by some lust for battle. “I ain’t no rocket scientist, I’ll let Mr. Yomaki and his goon squad to figure that out.” Another pregnant pause, “Well Myrand, Mr. Yomaki’s calling, hang tough and find a way to entertain your self.”
“Yes sir, Myrand out.”
When the sergeant clicked their communications off, Myrand slouched against the chain-link fence looking out to the open field before him. Boredom seemed immanent despite his attempts to fall asleep. Shifting the rifle on his lap so that the trigger could be seized with a quick twist of his right wrist, his eyelids closed over to reveal a sea of darkness. Soon it was distorted to the images of luxury: yachts, cars, women, and houses.
His eyes departed when a guttural roar split through stagnant air. All the startled soldier could see was the fog envelope a bulky figure standing idle in the middle of the field; the slight wind pushed away the purple haze revealing the strangest beast human eyes have ever seen.
Its powerful hooves trotted around the field, every detail of muscle tone is defined throughout the creature’s legs and arms. Whenever it trotted past a certain point the glimmer of vermilion armor, gold trim, and the gleaming hilts of two sheathed swords flickered across Myrand’s eyesight. This centaur now remained still, its blood red eyes settling upon another figure that was perched on the scoreboard, as if waiting for this mysterious enigma to arrive. The bull’s face became a wry smile when his contact jumped from the scoreboard the landing before him.
Myrand stared down at the field in disbelief, two strange creatures arriving from nowhere right in front of him. Somehow he must have stumbled onto something bigger than anyone, or any human for that matter. Little time was wasted grabbing his rifle from out of his lap into his awaiting hands. Meanwhile his visor picked up the I.D. of the larger monster that now began speaking to his friend.
“Vahjramon…” Murmured Myrand. He watched the information pan across his visor. “Level class: Ultimate, Cautionary provisions recommended, engage using high velocity projectiles.”
A smile spread on the face hidden by the visor, caressing the weapon he held in his hands for the final time before he hoisted the scope to where his eye leveled. The scope window panned across the field until it settled on the thin-skinned skull of the bull monster then vaulted toward the mysterious other. When Myrand saw the glow of yellow fur he froze, unable to comprehend the vision he saw in the tiny scope, that yellow fur crossed his eyes before though he took no care into reminiscing about it. Instead his body stiffened, heartbeat thumping with an erratic tempo, breathing out slow whispers of air so neither beast could notice him.
Crosshairs settled on Vahjramon, the red tick of the bulls-eye centered with still precision between its fiery red eyes. The trigger began to pull backwards, pressure building on the hammer pin, ready in sending the bullet from the barrel. Courage filled the soldier’s soul for the first bullet could be his last. He could kill one but would need to load another shell into the chamber before the other managed leaping for his throat, then it would be close combat, an unwanted area Myrand preferred be isolated from.
Then the pressure stopped, finger pulling away from the trigger then gripped the handle. Since no one discovered his hiding place, there was no reason to reveal it now. So instead of shoot first ask questions later, two fingers increased the microphone boost that received sound located just beyond the visor, installed into the helmet. Leaning back on the fence this elite soldier listened intently to the conversation down below between the two digimon. The smile never left his face at the ingenious plan that played out before him: learn more about the enemy.
“You move like poetry in motion.” Vahjramon breathed, excited to see her acrobatic body arch when she flipped into the air.
The female simple gave a short huff, “I’m flattered, but that’s not the reason you asked me here.”
“Partly.” The bull smirked showing his protruded canine teeth. “You’re strong for a rookie Renamon, one that rivals all others in the digital world. Your combat skills far accedes youth and rookie status.”
White fur became ruffled, the mane on Renamon’s chest puffed showing pride in her talents. “Go on.”
“Join us Renamon, join the Deva’s quest in taking over these pathetic humans. Together we could rule this world with an iron fist.”
“Sounds tempting, but who are these other Deva’s?”
“Eleven chosen warriors to help the sovereign overcome this foul infestation of human filth.”
Up in the level M bleachers Myrand wondered who these sovereigns were. “Who is this sovereign you speak of?” Renamon spoke softly, “what kind of power are you talking about?”
Vahjramon grinned again, knowing Renamon was becoming interested with his deal. “The sovereign is the ultimate Supreme Being in the digital world, he grants those who serve themselves to him infinite power. These pathetic humans can’t even make a scratch against our incredible might.”
Myrand snorted in aggravation. “Uh-huh, you just keep thinking that you overgrown steak, before I put a bullet in your brain.” The threatening whisper never reached the bull ears, but the soldier felt stronger saying it.
“Sorry I’m still not interested, my partner seems more powerful than this sovereign could ever be.”
“So beautiful, yet so stubborn. That pathetic gnat of a human could never give you as much power than being with the sovereign.” The bull approached her in slow, menacing steps. “If you refuse I’d gladly teach you otherwise.”
The vixen creature leapt down on the field, level with the now incensed bull watching his every step with a watchful eye. Cautious she might be but Renamon paled in power compared to Vahjramon. They paced around each other in a wide circle waiting for the first to open the battle with their attack. Air stilled, freezing the fog in mid swirl before either fighter stepped through it. Up in the bleachers Myrand watched with glee, finding his entertainment for tonight, not a care in the world besides killing whichever warrior triumphs.
“Diamond storm!” The vixen shouted forming a blue aura in front of her only to have it expelled towards the bull as sharp jagged pieces of diamond. Glow from the attack made Myrand reminisce about that familiar hue, transparent from his distance but still very familiar. That flash of white caused him to cringe, his battle scares flared in heat under his uniform.
During the soldier’s momentary reunion, the bull negated her attack by the simple defense of two gleaming swords. “So strong, it shames me to destroy you, but then again I’ll have your data.” Face twisted in a cruel smile Vahjramon lunged at her with both weapons.
“Renamon!” A high feminine cry filled with sudden worry and stress echoed across the field like a clasp of thunder rolling across the plains.
Again Myrand directed his scope towards the distinct location where the voice screamed, but it became obscured as blinding sheets of white light forced him to close both eyes. Confusion went through his mind until the light faded and light spots flooded away from his vision. Curious, he panned down the scope again back to where the fighters were to find yet another shock for tonight.
Where the slender vixen figure should be, in the middle of the playing field, stood an intimidating four-legged fox. It was bigger than anyone Myrand has seen however, and it is strangely ornamented with a red-and-white striped thing that stuck out in front of her body. Flanking her was that vermilion beast he tried to kill earlier then some odd-looking rat with big ears. This elite soldier is again numbed by the sudden changes that lie before him, and like before the trigger lay dormant while his index finger rest on the handle grip. All he could do was watch this fight, kill the victor then go home.
That had been the plan until other voices were picked up on his microphone. “Go Kiyubimon.”
“Go Guilmon let’s kick his butt.”
“C’mon Terriermon you know what to do.”
Myrand almost lost his control for a third time, nearly dropping his augmented rifle down the bleacher seats. He must be delusional, or suffering from a rare form of lethargy not discovered by humans, he could’ve swore that there were kids on the field as well. Sure enough when the scope weaned back down to the field, three solitary figures stood on the shallow sidelines cheering these monsters on. They too were familiar to the now weary soldier.
“You got to be kidding me. They’re all there, the same damn kids from before.” Myrand managed to choke out between infuriated lips.
The battle below him raged on. Three warriors versus one angry bull, so far the bull was winning. With an arrogant huff the digimon tossed aside the overgrown fox with one hand while keeping the other sword pointed towards one of the children. Those three warriors lay in defeat, exhausted from the strains of fighting unable to move anymore. Now these once jubilant children backed away from the beast in horror. With their three friends unable to fight they were all alone facing down the gleaming blades of their enemy, Vahjramon, who began laughing in a guttural growl.
“So pathetic, now it’s time for your humans to know your place; beneath digimon as our servants!” Both blades rose high into the air in a slow arc, the bull laughed hearing their distant cries for their digimon. Good bye humans!” He roared swinging both blades downward to them with all his might.
A sudden thunderous boom that rattled the bleachers in a deafening roar drowned out screams, Vahjramon sliced air. He let out his own roar of anger seeing his sleek blades clatter in pieces to the ground in a steaming heap and the contrails that stretched all the way to the upper bleachers. His blood red eyes witnessed a jade armored human pump a fist in the air.
“All you need now is a frying pan and some garlic butter!” The Deva snorted and grimaced at him.
Still Vahjramon held his ground still intent on now mauling the children with his curved horns. “Foolish human, do you really think you can stop me with that pathetic weapon?” He turned to the children seeing their digimon in front, ready for another brawl.
“Think again you overdone steak.” The girl said defiantly, standing behind Kiyubimon with a stern smile on her face. “Matrix digivolution.”
A flare of bright light filled the stadium, blinding both Vahjramon and Myrand long enough into forcing their eyes away for seconds until the strobe finally subsided. Each let out their own version of surprised stupor when they looked back. In a battle poise there was another newcomer, another monster Myrand was sure to be powerful just by looking at the grim face and heavy worn garments. Something was missing though; the soldier checked the monster total counting four digimon then drew the conclusion that the fox thing is absent from their ranks.
“Kiyubimon digivolved into Taomon.” Uttered the girl, who had became lost in awe at this figures impressive stature like it was sculpted from marble.
One of the boys offered a high five that she gladly took. “Nice job Rika, way to show him whose boss.”
“And of course no one credits the marine for his dazzling display of accuracy and timing, but it’s okay, I only saved your life.” Myrand mumbled under his breath a bit agitated that no credit was forwarded to him.
This new creature, Taomon, turned to the vermilion beast whispering a command, and it trotted over to the children along with the large eared rat. When they were far enough the shaman focused her attention to Vahjramon. She needn’t speak to him for her eyes conveyed the grim message of death, pitying and merciless upon the bull. In the sparse seconds of awkwardness she leapt into the air and hung there by an unimaginable force, robe hanging loose showing some yellow tufts of fur under them.
Myrand placed his rifle calmly on the bleacher next to him, but before he ignored it another Ripper Shell was loaded into its chamber. He was hopeful it wouldn’t be needed if Taomon won, feeling safer with her than he did with Vahjramon. He did, however, picked up the pistol that rested on the next bleacher above him and load it. The flurry of white and purple drew his attention across the field towards Taomon.
Vahjramon snorted unaffected by the threat display. “You think because you’re an ultimate now, you think you can defeat me?”
“We shall see won’t we?” Taomon shot back coldly.
Before the bull could give rebuttal, a paintbrush slid from her robe large enough she needed two hands to grip it. This made him laugh aloud that mocked her weapon of choice. Confidence filled his smile that followed, even prancing around the field with an impudent stride.
After he made a complete circle he stopped short and noticed the trail of black paint on the tip-end. “What are you going to do with that thing, paint me black?” Her silence diminished his confidence slightly; a bit insulted she wasn’t cowering with her paintbrush. “Why don’t you answer me?”
Nimble fingers worked their way around the paintbrush, Taomon’s smile broadened as she hefted the paintbrush in front of her. “Talisman of Light.”
Three simple strokes then the tip came to rest. In front of her was now a Japanese character unknown to everyone except for her, glowed with intense light from an unknown source and gathered at the very center. Suddenly it shot downwards to Vahjramon pushing dirt and air alike into a choking dust cloud.
At first the bull couldn’t react, confused and numbed to the searing pain that entered his flank. Explosions of pain caused his mouth to open in a painful roar. The painful waves traveled up his flank into Vahjramon’s main body tearing vital organs into bitter tatters, the beam is eating him alive. Data flowed freely from where the character hit him; eyes now flush with tears as the data flow traveled upwards consuming his sleek brown fur.
“You may have defeated me… but you will never defeat the sovereign…” Vahjramon shouted in defiance before being consumed completely.
Taomon sucked away all the loose data without spilling a single drop. In that instant her body began glowing in a white light, then returned to being Renamon again. She hung in the air for a brief moment before she landed with graceful pride and looked at her human partner.
“You did it Renamon.” Rika lauded placing her hand on the vixen’s shoulder.
Concern on his face, Henry approached them both with a stern stride. “What did you two talk about anyway? Did you find anything new about these Deva’s?”
“I’ll tell you all tomorrow. Get some sleep and I will be happy to give you any information I know.”
Henry gave her a queer look. “All right, good job everyone let’s go home.”
Myrand watched them go, they mounted their bikes and sped off. Two digimon had followed except for Renamon who stood out in the middle of the field staring directly at him. His body stiffened, unwilling to move in her presence, pistol clenched in his tight fist.
“I’m not here to hurt you.” Renamon called out.
The pistol still remained in his grip. “Just like before eh? You put me in the hospital for two months with those shards.” Myrand’s reply sounded rather plastic, voice muffled by the visor.
“You were going to hurt my friends. I wasn’t going to let you accomplish that desired goal and needless to say it took many digimon to regenerate that gaping wound in my stomach.” With that said she dissolved into thin air.
Thankful, Myrand holstered his pistol turning towards the parking lot. That was until the fox reappeared in front of him, standing straight on a single chain-link post. All he could utter was a grunt of surprise as reflexes forced him to reach for his weapon but stopping short, hovering just inches away from the grip.
“H-How in the hell?”
“I can teleport.”
Myrand grunted and let his hand fall to his side. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Keep your hands away from that pistol and I’ll tell you more.”
The marine complied by taking out the clip and the bullet in the chamber then put the pistol on the bleacher next to him. There he hesitated, unsure of how to respond now that he was unarmed, feeling naked without any weapon to protect him. When the said weapon was discarded he watched the vixen hop down onto the highest bleacher in a graceful flip.
She folded her arms again inferring her peaceful agenda. “I want to thank you, whoever you are…” Turning to face Myrand, a smile grew in the corners of her mouth, which revealed two supple canines. “If it wasn’t for your bullet Rika and the others would be dead right now.”
Flattered, Myrand waved his hand to stop her. “Nah it’s nothing really not compared to how you handled that bull back there. I’m just glad I could help.” He watched her sit down and cross her legs over one another. “My names Myrand, and you are…?”
“Renamon.” She replied. “Can I ask why you’re sitting here in the first place or is it ‘classified’?” She quoted her last word with her fingers making Myrand laugh.
“Well since were only talking.” Pausing for a moment, Myrand removed his jade helmet from his head and set it down on the bleacher. “I am supposed to exterminate any digimon that decides to merge into this world. But now I’m not so sure.”
Renamon didn’t reply, suddenly feeling very hot just by looking at Myrand’s true face. She had seen human faces before, but not like his. The way his warm welcoming eyes settled on hers mixed with the smooth button nose that seemed polished like a fine stone, the fullness of his lips made her think that they were two soft pillows. Then these wonderful qualities were all added to a clean square chin. Her eyes widened when he ran his fingers through his sweaty burnet hair, shocked seeing his brown eyes glitter in the lucent moonlight.
Myrand stared at her quizzically, she seemed as if in a daydream staring into his face. “Renamon?”
“Hu-what?” She snapped, mind coming back into reality.
“Are you okay? You look a little sick.”
“I’m fine.” Then the realization came to her that the human was waiting for her answer. “There are good digimon and bad digimon, the good ones are with children.”
“Oh, well I guess I should apologize for shooting you then, I had no idea.” Myrand apologized. Although it seemed like an extremely weak attempt to excuse his mistakes, it’s the least he could do for now.
For a moment neither of them said anything, lost for words while under the glow of the harboring moon, just staring at each other for minuets on end. Both seemed lulled into a sense of awkwardness. Time passed in slow intervals, just as one creature prepared to speak the other leaned forward intent to hear it, but this caused a sudden shyness and the speaker dare not speak. They remained acting until the moon sank into the mountains as the sun began to crest over the oceans.
Sounds of the morning crews made Renamon snap out of her intense confrontation, confusion in her eyes she dissolved away before Myrand’s eyes without saying a single good bye. He understood her motives. It’s not every day you talk to a giant yellow fox, let alone become somewhat familiar with it, Myrand felt that distinction as well.
Smiling, the special ops marine gathered his things and began his decent to the ground.