Title: DIGIMON 02: Parallels

Description: In a time of need and desperation, two rival digimon fused together to create a being so powerful, it was "never meant to exist". Because it was never meant to exist, it must steal the hearts of humans and world-hop to survive: a plan that enraptures Hikari Yagami and the other 02 generation to the point where they must once again face The Digimon Kaiser, fangirls/fanboys, and their greatest fears.

Rating: Between PG-13 and R. Currently PG-13 status, and I'm really hoping my writing doesn't take me to R. XD

Genre: Action/Adventure, Epic, Drama, Romance; small splash of Humor (especially in the second arc) and Mystery.

Disclaimer: I do not own digimon, nor any of the characters used in this fic, except one or two. XD No infringement intended.

Chapters: I'm hoping for 12, but might be a little more. It's looking like that. Oops.

Author's Note: This isn't the story I'm always asking certain questions about for, heh. I decided to take a small break from that fanfic ("The Lighthouse") and briefly write this one, which is intended to be a lot shorter than that. I hope you enjoy it and please have fun!

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Digimon 02: Parallels

The peace, the calm, the storm...

Soon, it will all arrive.

Prologue

She is breathing in deep; inhaling the sweet scent of refreshing air, the smell of spring, of fresh honeysuckle and sugary melted caramel. She can feel the air enter her lungs, can feel her chest rise, can feel it fall, can feel all of it... fall.

And, just as the sweet smells and sights and sounds come to her, they fade – no, no, they don't just fade, they freaking EXPLODE. They are GONE, asta la VISTA, baby, BOOM. Honeysuckle burns into ash, caramel melts into nothing but blackened char, spring scent now nothing but the putrid odor of burning fur and decaying flesh. The blue skies have twisted and turned, their clouds stirred and dark, and in turn, the blue has become red, and the white cumulus now not gray – not gray – but black.

This unfamiliar sight leaves a sickening feeling in her stomach. She'd never seen black clouds before. She'd never seen a blood red sky before. She'd never smelled decaying flesh, or watched as the things she once labeled innocent and kind and sweet become nothing but a memory of times past.

She looks up again with unseen glory at the creature standing atop the black clouds like a dark god of death, wearing platinum armor and holding a massive sword. For a second she can hardly believe her eyes – could it be Omegamon? No. Not Omegamon. Definitely not Omegamon.

The creature descends swiftly from the clouds, sword raised high, and not a second later, the blade plunges into the ground, ripping it apart, thunderous and riveting and resounding throughout her ears, her mind, her soul. Even in her core that sound reverberates and echoes everything she fears is true. From the crevice the sword creates, there is an explosion of hellfire and shadows, reaching forward, forward, forward, reaching to grab her, grab her and hold her tight.

They wrench her back by her hair, the shadows hold her to the ground, whispering such sweet but dark, dark things; such kind but such menacing words; and the shadows swallow her whole, and she can do nothing but scream as darkness plagues her sight.

However, in the darkness, a light shines.

It is only a brief flash, but it's there, and as it lingers, she reaches out for it. Her hand touches something soft – lo, someone soft – and she smiles gently. Whoever's hand she holds clutches hers back just as firmly, and pulls her into the light. The figure's face is always veiled by the gallant and mighty light, but... though she cannot see the man's face... she still feels warmth in her heart when she sees him, and knows that she is safe so long as he is there.

She is given only one clue as to who this man filled with light is, and that is the black dragon symbol embedded into his bare shoulder. Its jaws are open wide, a ball of red flame gleaming between those long fangs, and despite the symbol being on her savior's shoulder, she cannot help but feel that the mark is also a mark of something...

Not right.

...Despite the figure's presence, the storm clouds still approach...

Stirring, dark, closing in

Closing in like the jaws of that dragon scar

Will she forget?

Forget that she is

(The One)

?

Then, just like that, Hikari bolts upright in her bed, panting, eyes wide and pupils small, sweat dotting her temples. She looks toward Gatomon peacefully resting in her own small basket, and though she wishes to wake the tranquil cat (a cat who appears almost kitten-like in her sleep), she knows that it was just a dream.

Right?

...Right?