Epilogue: To Far Away Times

Fifteen years after the Digimon War...

It was raining cats and dogs in Pallet Town. Brilliant flashes of lightning lit up the ashen sky, and booming thunder erupted through the sound of water falling from the heavens.

Despite the drenching torrents, six people still stood standing outdoors, getting soaked to the bone by the relentless rain.

They stood at the side of a freshly-filled grave, watching the falling rain tamp down the newly-turned soil. Soon, the soil was firmed down completely, holding securely beneath its six-foot depth, the coffin of the Digimon War's latest casualty.

The two women present there were crying into the shoulders of the men they had come to the funeral with, who were also unashamedly shedding tears of their own. At that moment, it felt like the very heavens had started to mourn for the one soul they had lost, through the raging thunderstorm.

It was a long time before they all finally composed themselves, and went home.

Thirty years after the Digimon War...

Life went on as usual, for most of those who never could recall what happened during the Digimon War. History books never mentioned the horrifying events that had transpired, and those who did try and make known the events of the War received awards for the 'novels' that they had written. All of them declined the awards, claiming that their 'stories' were true.

Obviously, no one believed them.

For some unknown reason, almost all of the people involved in the War had no recollection of that gruesome episode that never-really-happened in Earth's History. Those who did remember the War - seven of them, to be exact - had their theories, but yet, they had no idea as to whether their memories were fake.

But when they remembered a simple human girl, and her pseudo-existence, everything seemed so real.

Even then, as time went by, they all started to forget her name, one-by-one. Their memories of the Digimon War too soon became faded, much like old photographs in a dusty album, sequestered away in a forgotten box, in a gloomy attic.

Three of the seven people died eventually, of natural causes, before they forgot about their traumatic experiences. Some said that the woman who died actually passed away due to a broken heart, and that her male companion's death which preceded hers, was merely due to old age. The earliest of the three deaths was blamed on chronic depression, and nothing more than that.

In the end, only one of them still knew who she was, and that the Digimon War did indeed happen some thirty years ago. And of course, she knew exactly why only she recalled the sorrowful events of that era.

The other three... Had forgotten...

Fifty-nine years after the Digimon War...

The sun was shining, and the birds were chirping. The day's weather sounded like a scene out of a child's picture book, and indeed, the day was your average Dick-and-Jane book type of day.

But then again, 'perfect' days never had funerals in them.

A coffin was lowered into the ground, by two strong Machokes. A large crowd had gathered for the funeral, and many of them could be seen sobbing or crying quietly in the background, as the minister read out the rites for the recently-deceased. The eulogy was offered by a middle-aged man who had known the deceased and her family for years, and yet, he managed to sound as though he never really knew the woman who was now being buried under six feet of earth.

After a while, the funeral ended, and those present there got up to leave. After all, no one in their right mind stuck around too long at funerals, wasn't it?

An hour later, after even the minister had left, only three people were left in the graveyard. They were the man who had offered the eulogy, and the two daughters of the dead woman.

The man came up to the eldest daughter, and reached inside his coat, "Your mother left this with me. She said..." his voice cracked with emotion, "She said that it was yours once she had passed on."

With a nod, the older of the two women standing there took the neatly-wrapped package with some tears and thankful words. Then, the two sisters watched as their longtime family friend got into his car and departed, leaving them alone in the graveyard.


It was hours later, and after dark, when the older sister finally sat down in the study room of her home, and unwrapped the package. She gently peeled-off the brown wrapping paper, and with a muffled THUMP, a small, leather-bound book fell onto her desk.

Opening the book, she saw some words written on the title page, in small, spidery handwriting that she recognized as her late mother's.

For Aurora. Keep this book always, and never lose faith in the power of dreams. Your mother, Misty Slate nee Waterflower.

Tears welled up in her eyes, as she realized why her mother hadn't bequeathed this book to her younger sister as well. Her younger sister, Jade, had never been one to believe their mother's ramblings about the 'Digimon War' or other nonsense like that. While she as the elder child had listened attentively and with genuine interest to her mother's stories, her sister had always found some excuse to not hear the stories, instead prefering to go and play with her friends.

Aurora brushed away the tears that had escaped her eyes, and opened the book to its first page.

With a sigh, she began to read.


Hours later, when dawn's first light shone through her study window, Aurora was fast asleep on her late mother's journal.

She had fallen asleep on the last pages in the book, and the words that ended the manuscript echoed in her slumbering mind.

I never expected things to end like this, but they have.

It's been fifteen years since the War was undone.

Today, the six of us who still remembered its horrors attended Ash's funeral. Watching his coffin being placed into the grave, I reflected that maybe death was the best thing that had happened to him since May left this world...

He never really recovered from the undoing of her existence, and when Pikachu passed away just last year, life must have been like a living hell for him. So just maybe, it was a good thing that the gods have granted him his rest.

I hope that wherever he is, he is with May and Pikachu. I think that in his final days, that's all he ever wanted...


It's been thirty years now, since the War passed.

No one seems to remember what happened, and even Professor Oak and Ash's mother, Deliah, have passed on. Why isn't everyone remembering all that we went through?

Maybe it's something to do with me meeting Selebi, but I'll never know for sure...


Looks like I'm the last surviving person who once recalled the Digimon War - Tracey passed away yesterday. Carrying the memories of that dark period is a heavy burden, what more when no one else aside from me remembers anything about it...

Now, all I can do is hope that when my time comes to leave this world, I'll be reunited with everyone, and that they'll remember.

I hope.