Dark Archangel II: The Ocean Beyond

by AthEnA1999

Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine, nor are any of the characters or digital worlds. Not even the Dark Ocean is mine, which is a shame because I'd really like to travel to it!

Introduction/Author's Note: This is the sequel to Dark Archangel. I didn't think that DA would spawn a sequel, either, but here it is! Be prepared for a somewhat shaky and slow start. Let the story develop. The first chapter's a bit… erm… fluffy, but that's just to set the mood. I have nothing more to say—I think the story should speak for itself. Enjoy!

Chapter 1


Heaven. The realm of angels. The tranquil, ever-changing ocean in the sky. Peaceful. Clear. Vast. Only seen through the eyes of true believers—not even the birds that soar through it have seen, unless they knew of the wonders above—the angels, the celestial sentries, watched over the earth below with their beautiful eyes and guarded it from the dangers that escaped from hell.

The image human perception spins when it hears the word "angel" is the icon from Christian folklore—plump, cherubic faces with rosy pink cheeks and clear eyes; silken white robes draped over their figures and fluttering like curtains as they fly; a golden halo bursting with light; and two dazzling white, feathery wings. Although angels like this did exist, their existence was not in a physical state. These seraphs were merely spirits of goodness that guided believers through their toughest times in life.

The believers, regardless of how much credence they held in their visions, were completely wrong. Three angels—tangible, although not flesh and blood but digital material—resided above the earth as its sentries, guarding it and only descending below the atmosphere in its times of greatest need. Two closely resembled the visions of angels as portrayed in works of art, but the third—the most powerful of all—barely matched any angelic description except for his golden hair and white garments. And even then, the hues were the only angelic elements his physical state had to offer.

He soared through the air, aided by his fellow digital seraphs, for he was recovering from a strenuous fight in the digital world. He had first defeated a dragon of unknown origin that was composed entirely of pure fire and smoke that was on its way to ravage the digital world. Despite the close encounter with the inferno itself, this angel showed no signs of being burned or even singed, even on his flawless white cape lined in silver. The second battle was with a digimon—an inhabitant of the digital world— that was gaining power from below the surface of the world—Hell, as it was known—and was known by the name of InfernoDevimon. The angel had won the battle… until InfernoDevimon digivolved to mega and released the last burst of his power in an attack that left a cross-shaped burn on his chest. The burn was so intense it literally scorched him clear through to the other side, and he would have died if the two others had not digivolved to extinguish the demon.

The three of them had traveled through the ever-present portal and had once again reached Earth, which was not as prone to evil as the digital world. Angemon, the bodyguard, flew at the head, leading them through a jungle of clouds until they stopped. His six snow-white wings halted in midair, then led him upwards onto an omnipresent cumulus congestus that towered like a mountain and would have been a cumulonimbus if not for the fact that it was not even in the atmosphere. (Being digital, the angels were able to survive in space.) Atop the cumulus was a pure white citadel that was cathedral-like in appearance, but was in reality a place of residence for the three of them.

The triad landed before the enormous, blue-tinted, crystal double doors at the front, and the doors opened to reveal a central hallway that contained not more marble, but every form of earthly vegetation and gentle terrestrial animals imaginable that surrounded a stone walkway and a pool of the clearest and purest water conceivable. Angewomon, the female angel, gently guided her exhausted husband towards the pool. She glanced at Angemon, and he flew out of the room to leave the two lovers alone.

"My dear, you don't have to prove yourself like this," she elucidated, holding back a slight laugh despite the gravity of the wound. "InfernoDevimon is one of the most potent evil digimon in existence, and even you, as an ultimate, cannot defeat him alone."

"It's my… commitment… to you," the outcast replied, wincing through the agony. "It's… my… penance."

This outcast had not always been an angel. As a matter of fact, he was not a "true" angel, but had once been. Before any of this had occurred, the outcast had assumed the form and behavior of a vampire—fangs, pallor, black cape, bats, and an unquenchable thirst for blood—but the personality of a demon more evil and sinister than any digimon before him, even Devimon and Apocalymon. This was so overwhelming to his henchmen that Wizardmon—once his greatest adversary, now his friend and confidante—had requested a spell from the leader Azulongmon to transform him into an angel. However, the spell had been recited with four words missing, and the consequences corresponded. The former vampire had become an Angemon with fangs, bat wings, and his own visage and voice. The name even matched—he had gone from Myotismon to AngeMyotismon. The fact that AngeMyotismon remained a vampire was apparent—he had nearly killed Rosemon by draining her of her blood—and for those actions he was banished from the digital world to prove his worthiness. Becoming a paramour for Angewomon and a target for angel-hunters and his own Shadow Mode, life as a fugitive on Earth was difficult and even cruel with no one there beside him except for the angel maiden, and even she had only appeared to him three times. After completing three unselfish and heroic deeds and then defeating his own Shadow Mode, AngeMyotismon was welcomed into the digital world and given the permanent position of guardian of Earth.

Following his initiation, he no longer assumed his "truly" angelic form, but rather his vampiric one with a different uniform. Of course, there was the white-and-silver cape, but the garments consisted of more than that (but not much more.) Like Angemon and Angewomon's dazzling white bodysuits that clung to their curves and muscles (and in Angewomon's case, exposed much of her skin), Myotismon wore a tight, revealing, white ensemble that might had been a bodysuit had it not been divided into two parts. The first covered only his arms and upper chest and was cut away at the collarbone, exposing himself—including his new scar—down to his gold, silver-studded belts. On the shoulders were two blue bat emblems resembling the ones on his previous blue suit. The lower part covered everything below his belts and even had an extra piece of white cloth hanging from it, like on his previous uniform. He wore white, silver-lined boots with a silver bat on one and a silver moon on the other. His gloves were a shimmery gold and had nothing on them. His cape was held to his suit by two sapphire clasps on the shoulders and one gold bat clasp with a ruby in the center on his chest. Topping everything off and hiding a scar from his past was a white, bat-winged mask. Evidence of his vampiric past still remained—he possessed the same visage, complete with blonde hair, ice-blue eyes, pale blue skin, and fangs.

His digimon name was Myotismon Celestial Mode. His title was Lord Myotismon, Dark Archangel of the Digital World. To his close acquaintances, he was merely called Myotismon.

Angewomon crushed a handful of healing herbs into a pile of soil, then poured water on it. She smeared it on the burn, which no longer gave the vampire an excruciating internal burn, but instead a rush of coolness. She murmured an incantation and allowed her hands to wander over her husband's chest, which was firm and muscular. She blushed as she stared into Myotismon's amethyst eyes. "You are so brave and tenacious to have faced that demon alone…" she whispered. "That's why I love you so much…"

As Myotismon stood up, showing no signs of discomfort, he took Angewomon's hands and brought her up with him. "And if you had not fought alongside me…" he continued, subtly guiding his love towards the pool, "… I would not even be here to… to…" he trailed off.

"Do what?" whispered the angel maiden.

"To do this!" Before Angewomon could realize what was happening, Myotismon let himself fall backwards into the pool, taking Angewomon with him. With a small shriek, she landed in the glacial water, the goldfish scattering as she did so. She stood up and found herself waist-deep in the water, sopping wet. At first she did not find this amusing, but seeing how Myotismon was beginning to laugh at this, she immediately saw the humor and removed her helmet, scooped up some of the water, and splashed him in the face. He playfully splashed her back, and within seconds it had turned into a frenzy in which even a fish or two was thrown through the air.

Angemon appeared at the poolside, arms akimbo. "Having fun, are we?" he said, the others not knowing if he was teasing them or about to lecture them. He looked at the muddy mixture streaming down Myotismon's front side into the water. "Myotismon… I see healing took a shorter time for you than expected…"

Myotismon glanced at Angewomon. She took her helmet, dragged it through the water, and splashed it on Angemon. He looked slightly ticked off, and the hall fell silient. Instead of blowing up at them or even reproaching them, the angel jumped into the pool with a large splash and began to take part in the water fight.

The water war only lasted for a short time—less than an hour. Angemon decided he was tired, climbed out of the pool, and left the room. The other two left, but went in a different direction. They lay out on the silken surface of the cloud, where they watched the earth below them, the moon above them, and the stars around them. The sun was hidden behind them, simulating nightfall on Earth. They found a formation that somewhat resembled a giant seat, and both snuggled up against one another endearingly. Angewomon lay the side of her head against Myotismon's chest and felt as if she was going to cry—the sensed the heat radiated by the burn mark scorching her face.

"I think it's going to be a scar…" the vampire sighed, running his hand absentmindedly through the angel's hair.

She sank lower and turned her head upwards. "Imagine, Myo… your flawless skin blemished by a scar! For the first time!"

For the first time… the words continuously echoed in his mind. Angewomon did not know. Before, Myotismon would have rather died than reveal the secret of his past. But now…

"I remember when I was Gatomon, and you scarred my paw with your Crimson Lightning," reminisced the angel, no longer gazing at the vampire, but at the moon above. "I thought… I thought I would never recover, it hurt so much…"

Myotismon felt a qualm in his stomach when Angewomon had brought the subject up. If there was nothing more he wanted, it was to not be reminded of the past. He wanted it covered up… he felt overexposed and desired a metal breastplate to cover his entire cross-shaped scar… he wanted to conceal his entire body from the neck down… no evidence of weakness should be visible. As a vampire, he took pride in his appearance, and that included a flawless complexion. Intense training allowed him to be victorious in battle and emerge without a single scratch, and if he did, his blue suit could conceal all, likewise his mask. He looked at himself and saw how imperfect he truly was—besides the scar, he saw how thin and fragile his figure was, with his spindly limbs and bones sticking out where he had no muscle… pure weakness. For hundreds of years, he had the illusion that he was overly bulging with muscle and even designed the uniform to enhance what might have been. But now… now it was different. Everything was exposed to the world, and there was no chance of concealment…

Except his one scar, the one he even kept hidden from himself.

When he was a rookie, his former master Toxidramon had whipped him for rebelling. His former master. Myotismon had once been a servant, long ago. To reveal that he was once under the command of a more powerful digimon—why, that would defeat everything! He would not be so powerful, so intimidating! And to reveal it to a former servant, that was nearly as humiliating as a current servant!

He still felt somewhat above Angewomon in some aspects, for he used to be her master, and she his servant.

His servant must never know.



"Myotismon?" Angewomon looked up at him. The vampire wished beyond belief that she would not address the subject of his mask.

"Yes?" wondered Myotismon.

"Myo… how come you have never removed your mask?"

The vampire felt his stomach plummet out of the heavens, as if the angel had read his mind like a book. He averted his gaze to a cloud above him, but he immediately forced himself to glance down, for the cloud was cross-shaped, like his scar. He remained silent.

Angewomon rolled over and gently pinned him to the surface of the cloud, her body pressed against his. "Didn't you hear me? How come you have never removed your mask? I have spent hours at a time without my helmet, and yet… you've never done the same for me?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Please? Do what I have done… I love you and want to see you for whom you are."

"The same… for you? My dear, what do you imply by that? Have you not considered the hours at a time I have spent making love to you?"

The angel, growing irritated, rolled off of her husband and sat upright. "You call sinking your fangs into my neck 'making love?'"

Myotismon sat up as well, aware of the intensifying heat of the scar on his chest. "Angewomon, when a vampire loves another and wants to express his passion for her, he releases his seed by planting his fangs into the woman's neck in such a way that—"

"You would think, Myotismon, that with all the books you have buried your face in in the eight hundred years you have been alive, you would have gained some knowledge as to how to make love the correct way. The traditional way."

"I do not take to reading bawdy novels, as I find they bore me. It's all the same to me!"

"You're such a stick in the mud sometimes. Did you know that? Being married to you, I finally realize the mistake I made!"

"I made an even greater mistake by enlisting you in my army of Nightmare Soldiers!"

"You made an even greater mistake than that simply by existing!"

Angewomon paused to catch her breath, then committed an action that she thought she would never need to commit again. She slapped her husband—striking him across the face—then stood up and flew into the distance.

"Angewomon!" cried Myotismon apologetically as the angel turned into a white speck and finally disappeared. The scar on his chest burned itself even deeper into his heart.

In a realm that was closer to anyone than they believed—most were completely unaware of this dimension's existence in the universe—a lone pair of ice blue eyes stared at the vampire, relishing his inner turmoil. Entombed in the complete darkness in his chambers, the possessor of the eyes was unable to be seen, but his presence was apparent. Simply being in a room with him could send a chill down one's spine. He stared at Myotismon and watched him attempt not to cry like a child, but the attempt was in vain. Instead, the vampire fell onto the surface of the cloud and attempted to clutch his chest, but every time he did, it made the scar burn more intensely than ever and nearly eat away at him. Chuckling, the Virus turned away from his entertainment and towards the door.

"InfernoDevimon?" he demanded.

The doorway into the room opened, sending a beam of red light into the room. Immediately the figure slipped into the shadows as the fiery demon's blaze lit up the room.

"Yes?" Seeing the new figure seated at his former master's ebony desk, he grew furious. "Who are you, and what have you done with Lord Daemon! I DEMAND to know the answer!" To prove his point, he held up a blue-hot fireball.

"SILENCE!" A beam of blood-colored lightning shot from the master's direction and hit InfernoDevimon, forcing him against the wall. "You may not speak unless I allow you to, you pathetic twit!"

The demon coughed up lava and ash as he keeled over, attempting not to disappoint his leader. Ever since the demon had wrenched the Dark Ocean out of Daemon's and Marinedevimon's grasp, he was the unquestioned leader whom no one dared to challenge. Fortunately, InfernoDevimon could have been granted leeway if not for the fact that he was a member of the Demon Corps.

"…Who…" He whooped up more lava and coughed it onto the floor, and if he had not known any better, it seemed that the new master had frozen it with a single glance from his ice-blue eyes. "…are… you?"

"I am your master," replied the demon, who chuckled to himself as he relished the consternation of a fellow Virus. "And you are my slave."

"Slave!" InfernoDevimon was skeptical. "Never will I be your slave, freak of nature! I only serve the one named Daemon!" He formed another fireball and hurled it at the stranger, only to see him hold out an appendage and cause the fireball to disintegrate into a pile of ash.

The demonic digimon gave him a cockeyed glance out of his ice-blue eyes, and InfernoDevimon felt his strength getting sucked out of himself and his flames flickering out. He crashed onto the ground, shaking under the lack of energy. He stared in front of him to see the owner of the eyes that he now feared beyond belief, and on the floor he was nearly at eye level with this enigmatic digimon who appeared to be no larger than a bird.

"You mean… this Daemon?" the childlike digimon asked airily, motioning to the bubble with his ragged wings. The interior spun a scene of a horned demon enveloped in a crimson cloak who was chained to the walls of a crystal prison, struggling to break free. As the demon finally surrendered to his surroundings, the picture disappered.

The devil said nothing; he merely felt his breath staggering and a pain tugging at his chest.

"So whom will you serve now that he is confined to a crystal prison?" The digimon revealed himself to be nothing more than a velvet-black Demidevimon with ice blue eyes and crimson interiors of his wings.

"Whom will I serve? Not you! An InfernoDevimon serving a Demidevimon? Never!"

"Do not be so sure…" suggested the rookie, advancing on his new slave and baring his pearly fangs. "No, do not be so sure at all…"

"Myotismon! Myo… are you all right? Please… speak to me… my love!" Angewomon kneeled over Myotismon and took his hand, which clutched onto hers as if to say that he heard her. His eyes were squeezed so tightly shut, tears of pain could not break through, and his teeth were clenched as if to help his eyes overcome everything. "Myo! Wake up, please! Myo!" She glanced at his chest and saw that the scar had changed from a faint red hue to a crimson so intense that it was actually glowing. Gasping from the shock, Angewomon fell backwards and nearly lost him, but instead she attempted to cry herself to heal everything. "I'M SO SORRY I HURT YOU!" she exclaimed from the bottom of her heart.

Immediately, the searing heat and the intense glow ceased, and the vampire began to relax but gasp for air. He opened his eyes to see a blurry vision of Angewomon standing before him.

"Angewomon?… Is that you?" wondered Myotismon.

"Yes…" whispered the angel, laying a cool hand on the side of her husband's face. "Oh, Myo… I'll never leave you alone like that again… I'm… I'm… sorry I yelled at you like that… you may remove your mask whenever you please and make love the way you wish."

"My dear… do you—"

"Shhhhh…" the angel lay a single finger against his lips and then gently sank into the cloud next to him. She placed her hand on the cross-shaped scar and immediately drew it back, squealing as silently as she could. "I want to see if I can heal you… but it hurts so much to me!"

Angewomon saw that Myotismon had shifted and now lay on his side. The clouds encircled them more closely, and they found themselves in their own heavenly realm where it was secluded to just the two of them, pure cumulus cloud on all sides except above them. The moonlight shone down on them, bathing them in a heavenly blue light. "I believe you have… when you told me you loved me."

Both leaned in and wrapped their arms around the other, kissing each other passionately.

"Damn!" Demidevimon attempted to pound the desk with his fist, which proved to be impossible because he did not have any fists to begin with, and turned towards InfernoDevimon. "It was so close, if not for that damned Angewomon… and it is not the first… or second… or even the third time, either…" The imp turned his back on his servant and began fuming.

"But, master… you do not understand… he would have never had that scar if not for my work?"

Demidevimon gave a sinister grin and faced the demon again. "You are correct, good fellow, but the scar is not the only reason your work has been deemed commendable. Your scar for him is merely a blemish on the surface… but what you did to him inside is absolutely priceless."

"What do you mean, master?"

"What I mean is… you are a Devimon, so your attacks have properties unlike those of other Viruses. Your final outburst before you died and entered this realm contained much of your… dark magic… which possesses not only the potential the scar the victim's flesh for life, but also his heart and soul… every shroud, every grain of an agonizing memory he recollects… every rejection, sign of never being loved, epithet and abusive action thrown at him… everything even the slightest bit traumatic that he experiences will be projected in him tenfold, eating away at him from the inside out until he becomes nothing but a shell. A soulless shell that will yield himself to my power…"

"But why do you want Myotismon, and not… say… Angemon? Won't you get even stronger if I attack an angel and drain his judgement through agony and suffering? Why this vampire?"

"Because… he and I are mortal enemies… he defeated me upon the arrival of the winter solstice… and now that summer has arrived I will finally receive the revenge I sought for so long!"

"So he defeated you. Big deal! He defeated me, and I'm a Mega, for God's sake, and I didn't get all vengeful about it—"

"If there is one thing you do not understand, InfernoDevimon, is that I am not the mere Rookie that the outward appearance suggests. I was once an Ultimate like himself… living for eight hundred years in his presence but I, the yang, was always halted in my steps by the sickening yin that was him. We shared our enmity with each other until I found the precious jewel of Earth and nearly had it in my grasp if not for him and the other two angels who are worthy of my contempt. He sent me to this godforsaken place to waste away in the filth I sent here. And now I will make sure he pays dearly for everything!"

"How, master Demidevimon?"

"In good time, my minion, you will know." He gazed into the orb with his ice-blue eyes and contemplated the near future. "Oh, yes… you will know sooner than you expect…"

To be continued…