Story Title: Crest Armors Remix

Chapter Title: Tags and Snippets

Author: Mathais

Rating: T

Fandom: Digimon Adventure/02

Warnings: None

Pairings: None

Summary: Unveiled by their resolve, the Chosen Children fight in the Crest Armors, discovering their true selves within.

Disclaimer: The characters of the Digimon franchise do not belong to me.

Notes: There's this really big AN at the very end of this chapter.


Taichi's eyes glared at Millenniumon, though he himself was immobile. The large digimon, a fusion of Mugendramon and a digimon he didn't recognize, doesn't even take notice of him. He was too busy slavering at the thought of facing Ryo to care.

Millenniumon was powerful. Extremely powerful. He wasn't sure how powerful compared to Apocalymon, but he was pretty damn powerful.

Powerful enough to rend time and space to capture him, his fellow Chosen Children, and their partners. His heart felt for Agumon, the only one to escape. He hoped that he made it away. Even though with him so far away he couldn't send any power, Agumon could do something, anything.

Even if their opponent was an Ultimate, as he suspected.

A part of Taichi was angry that he had been captured in the first place. After all, hadn't they all been training for just this very occasion? Hadn't they, after getting a taste for battle and that jumpstart in skill, constantly practiced with each other so that something like this wouldn't happen?

Unwittingly, a spark of Courage lit in his heart, that comforting, no nonsense blaze which served him so well. But pain lanced along his body with it, and he remembered why Gennai had warned them away from their powers so long ago.

In sealing away Apocalymon's final attack, they channeled more power than they were used to and without the buffer of the digivice. The power left their mark in their changed height and age and muscle mass, in the visceral knowledge of their Crest and their maturity in outlook. But for all they gained, they burned out their bodies, and until they healed, they wouldn't be able to attain that same strength. Even trying left them hurt and weak.

It was the only reason why he wasn't wreaking havoc with fire right now.

Eyes burning, all Taichi could do was glare at Millenniumon.

He hated being so useless.


"You're so stupid, stupid," is what Yamato woke to at the end of it all.

When he finally regained consciousness, safe in their grandparent's home, Takeru was beating on his chest.

It kind of hurt actually. Takeru was a lot stronger than he seemed.

Though his body felt as if someone shot ice through his veins, he managed to shift so that he was looking up into Takeru's tear-filled eyes.

"Stupid, stupid, onii-chan," Takeru cried. "How could you do that?"

Yamato reached up and pet Takeru's hair. Takeru's tears stilled at the pressure, and Yamato smiled. "Takeru, I was just doing what was necessary."

"We're not healed yet," his little brother's breath hitched in the middle of his words. "We're not healed yet, and you used your Crest to get to the internet. I saw it! I felt it!"

Yeah, that may have been pretty stupid, but it was necessary at the time. MetalGarurumon needed him, and if it meant that his body was bathed in pain from the effort, then he took comfort in the fact that Taichi did it too.

"It needed to be done, little bro," Yamato said roughly. "Is this any different from when you went against Apocalymon?"

There was a small part of him that warred about Takeru's actions. Granted, Takeru had been alone, so there was a huge part of him that was proud of his little bro for going up against the odds and doing what he could.

Another part of him had been scared, always scared, of being left behind.

Takeru stilled, and for a moment, Yamato regretted his words.

Then Takeru said, "No," with eyes older than they should have been, and Yamato did regret putting that look in Takeru's eyes. It was far too old for someone whose age was still in single digits.

"Come here," Yamato whispered and dragged Takeru to him.


If she had been weaker, Hikari would have been far more worried and scared than she was now, in the grips of the Dark Ocean.

But she was not. She was the Chosen of Light, wielder of the Crest of Armor of Light, and she hadn't spent the three intervening years resting on her laurels.

Her Light was strong. It had to be, to do what she needed to do, and she had the force of will which let her claw back from unconsciousness and control herself.

Her body still wasn't though. It was nowhere near ready to channel the same fury she had against Apocalymon.

There was enough to do something though.

Her powers didn't have the same piercing effect as Takeru. Most of her spells were of an augmentative nature. But when those Hangyomon grabbed her, when she freed them from their bonds only to have their true nature be revealed, she lit up.

Light, unwavering light, poured forth and paralyzed the darkness. It was nowhere near as good as Angewomon's Saint Air, but these things were not on Vamdemon's level. She rose, even with the pain singing in her body, and said clearly, "I am the Light. I will not be shackled down by the darkness. If you think you can bind me to your will, then think again."

The Dark Ocean rose to greet her, singing its mournful song of corruption. And that's what the Dark Ocean was—corrupted darkness, not the counterpart to natural light but something twisted for evil.

Though it made her heart burn, Hikari gathered her strength to fight. She began to whisper, "Armor of—" when light pierced through the darkened sky. Pegasmon galloped as hope across the heavens, Takeru riding on his back.

Tailmon leapt from her perch, shouting, "Hikari!"

They'd given up their power before. To heal the Digital World, to protect the world they loved, they'd drained themselves to the barest minimum once more. It took with them the strength for Perfect and Ultimate, and it very nearly knocked them out once more.

But they embodied their Crest, and the power would always be there, if they sought it. Hikari had proved it just now.

And in this darkened world, when corruption bred tainted darkness, light was needed more than ever.

So Hikari took that power which thrummed through her, that power which she used to protect, and fed it to Tailmon.

"Tailmon, super evolve! Angewomon!"

The eight-winged Archangel soared into the sky, her holy presence beating back the corruption. Angewomon's hands spread as she called out, "Heaven's Charm!" and dropped a cross of light in the air. The darkness was burned away by the pink radiance as Pegasmon and Takeru swooped down and picked her up.

"Just in time," Hikari giggled.

"You were about to call your Armor," Takeru accused.

"I didn't."

"But you were about to."

Hikari didn't deny it; she only arched an eyebrow. "And how did you pierce the walls between the worlds?" she asked.

Takeru didn't respond, though the red flush shooting up the back of his neck said enough.

As Angewomon covered their escape, return to Tailmon once safely out of that world, Hikari looked back.

Looked back and made a promise to herself. When she was stronger, when she could access the Armor without burning her body out, she would return. She would return and purify the corruption and leave the darkness, pure, untainted darkness, to its inhabitants.


It was a secret that only the highest echelons of the Chosen (and they were the Chosen now, because it was kind of stupid to call them the Chosen Children when they were all adults) knew in its entirety, though rumors, as they often did, flittered throughout the ranks.

The subset of the Chosen known as the Crest Chosen was special. They were the ones who defeated the Dark Masters before most of them had even known of the Digital World (the originals notwithstanding, but whoever the original five were, they held their peace), had been at the forefront of the battle against BelialVamdemon, and even though everyone had helped out against that threat, the only reason that BelialVamdemon had been in any position to be defeated was because of them. The Crest Chosen had been the only ones to achieve Perfect for a good long while, and they still were the only ones who had Ultimate partners.

They became legendary when they mounted the strike force that took down the only confirmed Super Ultimate digimon in existence, when Demon, who had plagued them for so long, teamed up with the Master of the Dark Ocean and raided their worlds. It only ended in a large-scaled battle against Demon, who had surpassed Ultimate into another level altogether. They were the heroes who headed deep into the darkness and purified its evil, leaving all of those who lived in the shadows free to exist there in peace.

It was true that they had had help, but no one denied that they did the bulk of the fighting. They and their partners were the strongest forces in the Chosen.

The thirteen of them were absolute legends. No one had trumped their accomplishments, many and varied as they were.

But only the top Chosen, the ones the most trusted, knew the truth.

Normally Chosen worked with their partners closely. Close enough to give power and tactics, but still out of the battle zone, almost never directly engaging.

The Crest Chosen, on the other hand, rode into battle directly.

When they mounted the battle against Demon, they didn't do so from the sidelines. They directly fought as well, clad in the armor which represented the Crests they so embodied—the Crest Armors. The Chosen themselves were every bit as powerful as their partners, and so it wasn't fourteen fighters who swarmed Daemon and his guard (because one of the Crest Chosen had the miracle of twins) but twenty seven. Twenty seven of the strongest fighters that the Chosen had ever known.

Their accomplishments, detailed in a locked file, had won the war. Because they could fight alongside their partners, because they weren't a liability in battle, the digimon could fight that much harder, work that much in tandem.

And so, even if the world didn't know the true extent of their strength, their names would go down in story, in legend, in myth.

Taichi Yagami and WarGreymon, the Fire of Courage.

Yamato Ishida and MetalGarurumon, the Ice of Friendship.

Sora Takenouchi and Hououmon, the Wind of Love.

Koushiro Izumi and HerakleKabuterimon, the Lightning of Knowledge.

Mimi Tachikawa and Rosemon, the Blossom of Purity.

Jou Kido and Plesiomon, the Water of Sincerity.

Takeru Takaishi and Seraphimon, the Light of Hope.

Hikari Yagami and Holydramon, the Shine of Light.

Daisuke Motomiya and Imperialdramon, the Friendly Courage.

Miyako Inoue and Valkyrimon, the Pure Love.

Iori Hida and Vikemon, the Sincere Knowledge.

Ken Ichijouji and GranKuwagamon, the Shadows of Kindness.

Wallace Glouberman, SaintGargomon, and Cherubimon, the Miraculous Fate.

Twenty seven of the strongest they had to offer.

They were the Crest Chosen.


Author's Note:

...and that's it. I apologize for anyone who has truly been waiting for this story, but I've come to a realization.

It's been a decade since I started this story. It's been a full ten years.

I've been on this site, writing fanfiction, for ten years.

I don't want this story to end, but I don't have a storyline. I don't have a plot.

When I look back on this story, I can see all my mistakes. But I can see a marked growth in my writing too.

So, this is it. After ten years, I'm laying this story to rest. It's not going to be actively updated anymore. I might come back to it, with more tags and snippets, but for all intents and purposes, this story is complete. It won't be the same long, chaptered story. It's not in me anymore.

I'm sending it off with these tags, these snippets, and with this ending, because this story will always be in my heart. It's the first storyline I ever wrote for this site, and I think it might be the older surviving fanfiction I've ever written.

For all of you readers who've stuck with me on this long journey, thank you. Thank you so much.