DISCLAIMER: I don't own Digimon, but I do own the original characters introduced in this story and my other stories (except where stated otherwise here or elsewhere by myself).
A/N: So, after a year and a month of Book Six, it's finally time for its sequel, the unoriginally titled Book Seven. I did consider pulling a The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya-esque random numbering scheme, but I decided that simplicity was better.
Anyhow, once again, I'd like to say to any new readers that it's imperative you read everything up until now before you read on. That means Book One through to Book Six, plus Extra Dimensions up to Story Seven (Christmases), and Stratagems too (up to Chapter 7).
In any case, I welcome you to a new book, and hope you enjoy it. Welcome, to Dimensions Book Seven: Escapes…
By Blazing Chaos
THURSDAY, 12th MAY 2011
Kantei, Chiyoda Ward
The rim of a wine glass touched down upon the table, a traditional affair looking rather at odds with the highly modern nature of the Tokyo Kantei, the official residence of the Prime Minister of Japan. The current incumbent to hold this particular seat was one Inukai Keishiro, a fairly popular one who had led the country away from difficult times, all whilst it dealt with being at the epicentre of Digital Activity.
But, everyone needs a rest sometime.
The man lifted the glass again, giving a slight frown at a small ring of liquid remaining upon the table. He pulled a coaster towards him, gently slipping it underneath before giving a contented sigh at his remedial action as he leant back in his cushioned chair, appreciating the peace and quiet of his home. His life was rarely quiet usually - he had had plenty of evenings interrupted by urgent calls, plenty of sleepless nights, plenty of family dinners disrupted.
But not tonight, not tonight. For once, he had a chance to lay back, kick off his heels and appreciate the pleasant surroundings which such a high role afforded. Around the edge of the room, traditional Japanese wood lined the walls, obscuring the high security metal frames behind. Above, there were no fluorescent lights, the traditional preserve of government offices. Instead, the PM had a number of traditional design lighting brackets installed, suspended from the ceiling, but they were off on this occasion. The main source of light, instead, was a delightfully designed lamp on the side table next to him, shaped like a swan and giving the fairly large room a lovely orange glow, the fragrance of the mature wood gently wafting to his nose whenever he sat in the large, equally-traditional deep green pillowed chair, gold on the tips of its legs and armrests.
Contrasting with these fixtures, and yet somehow managing to both fit in with the room and overshadow its competition, was a large window array at the end, made up of several high quality panes of glass and affording fantastic views of the both the lights of the traditional garden behind the Kantei and the lights of Tokyo beyond. The fact that these windows were bulletproof and bombproof couldn't be seen, of course, and neither could the high security system of lasers crisscrossing it.
"As security should be," the middle-aged man thought, a pleased smile on his slightly wrinkled visage. "Unseen."
Indeed, there were few signs of any true technology within the room. Everything had been chosen for subtlety, from the thin and dark-coloured PC screen on the back of a traditional desk set into a chest, its tower hidden away below, to the phone on the side, brass polishing it's fairly antiquated form. Granted, it was beyond the era of a ring-pull phone, but the numbers were elegantly printed, with no need for modern embellishment or simplification. Under the desk, a small emergency call button was to be found, but it was painted black, rather than the garish red of many of its sort. Even the CCTV cameras were set into alcoves in the walls, another example of security going unseen.
Inukai far preferred this room to his actual office. This was his sitting room, a place normally used only by him to relax after a difficult day of running the country, and new aides would learn quickly after starting their career in the Kantei that disturbing him for trivial affairs when he was in this room was a big mistake.
A constant reminder of more than trivial affairs, however, was the pile of papers on his side table. Despite the seemingly relaxing nature of the surroundings, the man was permanently ill-at-ease, regardless of the confident professional façade he normally showed to the world. From meetings with foreign delegates to meetings with other world leaders, he had travelled the world twice over, and the world had come to him three times that. A thousand issues sat in his in-tray: taxation, anti-terror measures, crime, education, health, transport, foreign relationships…
One item, however, would always be put on the top of the pile, marked urgent.
Mr Keishiro gave a light frown as he lifted the document, reading its header.
DIGITAL ACTIVITY REPORT
The name at the top, in an unassuming and seemingly innocent font, said Digital Monster Control and Prevention Department but everyone worth their salts in the Japanese Government knew this was simply the official title for the organization which had been known ubiquitously as 'Hypnos', and which was now rather well known to the public, particularly through citizen organisations like Digital Watch.
'Hypnos' had no logo, it had no mention in the official budgets - it didn't exist officially. Yet, it was an organisation which had evolved, starting out as only the Digital Control Department, the Japanese branch of the international intergovernmental project SIGINT, standing for Signals Intelligence. Of course, since then, its remit had change completely, going from being a pretty standard (if high-tech and secret) department merely set up to monitor traffic on the internet around 1998 to a fully-fledged organisation, a department in name only, and one which had taken on a life of its own.
Since the department began to become less of a department and more of an organisation that was distinct from the Japanese government, in about 2002, the department had been headed by Mitsuo Yamaki, now 36. He was a man who was known to have a bitter temperament, one created by the harsh reality of the job he had been so enthusiastic about being signed up for under a project intended to bring the finest young minds into the Japanese government.
The 29 year-old oversaw the installation of the Kyon system, a system intended to act and prevent the Digital Plane colliding with reality, a worst case scenario which thankfully thanks to Kyon had yet to come to pass. But, alas, the Kyon system was now only an abstract of its original intended form. It nowadays was largely only used to monitor such affairs, the module of the system known as Tracer. Experience of adding on additional modules such as Juggernaut and Yuggoth had proved unsuccessful, although both programs were later reused in Project Doodlebug and Project Grani respectively. Even Project Ark had struggled to be successful, and it was neither a defensive nor proactive system for combating digital threats. All three projects, Doodlebug, Grani and Ark highlighted a change of thinking in Hypnos during the summer and autumn of 2007, as it began to make alliances with the informal citizen group known as the Digimon Tamers, which initially it had been resistant to. The Mihira, Indra and Vikarala incidents proved to be the death knell for the 'old' strategy as Yamaki warmed to the idea of working together with the Tamers, a partnership which proved to be essential to combat the D-Reaper.
His alliance with the Tamers was one that, like most of his department's actions, was officially nonexistent, yet it had become a heavily relied on one by Hypnos, and one which Keishiro himself had questioned a number of times. Part of this doubt had led to him changing the structure of the organisation, demoting the wildcard that was Yamaki in July and replacing him with a younger prodigy, Rayleigh Thompson, who, although not being a citizen of the country by birth, had lived there for a long enough period of his life to be suitable for the job. He took a harsh line with these Digital Threats, and to reinforce the powers of Hypnos, along with making it clear to the Tamers they were not free to do as they pleased.
After the Zweite incident (dubbed as such by Rayleigh before his departure) however, in late October the previous year, Rayleigh had once again moved up the ranks of the Japanese Government, his competence in dealing with the aftermath of what the PM knew from extremely top secret bulletins was an event that would otherwise have been to seriously damaging to the whole country and the reputation of their policies for dealing with digital threats. Seeing the potential of such a competent official, Mr Keishiro promoted him to Chief Cabinet Secretary, replacing the ineffectual Eiichi Nakazawa. In his first move, Mr Thompson had restored Yamaki as head of Hypnos, a move which had angered the PM until the reasoning was explained to him. As Chief Cabinet Secretary, Rayleigh said that he would control the affairs of Hypnos more tightly and ensure it was acting in the interests of the public, rather than the Tamers and Yamaki's individual interests, and a key part of doing so was making Yamaki owe something back to the government, namely his reinstatement in his new role. His powers would be more limited from now on, and he would have a greater remit back to the government, including making Yamaki personally responsible for any mix-ups. "Rather over the top, but special situations call for special actions," the PM thought, flicking down the list.
It was split into sections, detailing the most recent bioemergence and the response to it. To his complete lack of surprise, it had been dealt with by the Tamers before Yamaki could even intervene, namely Takeru Takashi and Matt Ishida, with their respective partners Patamon and Gabumon who destroyed the 'Wild One', a Unimon. A picture of each Digimon and human was shown, albeit for the 'Wild One' it was merely a stock photo from the card game. Below, a price list of the damage was given, albeit, as usual, it was very sparse, only a few token cheap things put onto it. The PM was well aware that Yamaki tended to make his own arrangements with property owners and the highways agencies to ensure that this list was as minimal as possible. Regardless, without definite proof, there was no way he could throw the book at Yamaki without risking a major political incident, primarily since the man in his career had learnt a number of things which would be very damaging to their reputation. It was a game of checks and balances, of cards stacked in careful formation, one where everyone would play by the rules for the vast majority of the time until they got the upper hand.
"And they say that the Prime Minister has executive power."
Despite this, the PM was working to keep Hypnos in line, and one of his chief measures was making Rayleigh Thompson his Chief Cabinet Secretary, probably the second most important role in the Japanese government and one which he himself had held before he became PM. Despite this, Rayleigh could never become the PM because of his foreign national status, even when he had citizenship of Japan. This, of course, served Mr Keishiro fine.
"If anything can be said about Mr Thompson, it is that he is an ambitious young gentleman. And to believe, he is only 22. Still, he doesn't show it, apart from his occasional arrogance. But, I have seen that in people older than myself, people who should know better. Regardless, he has a promising future ahead of him, but, of course, he will never have my job," the man thought, a sly smile on his face as he sipped from the red wine in the glass again, before planting it back down onto its coaster. A hand came to his child, a frown on his face as he looked at the details of the report.
This was always an amusing part of the report to read, thanks in no part to Yamaki's usual underassessment of how much the public knew about a particular incident. Even in a city where community spirit had supposedly died and people lived in their own little worlds, news still spread quickly. It was a long way from becoming a trivial event when a Digimon breeched the dimensional barrier.
Locale was quiet backstreet in Chiyoda. Witnesses were sympathetic. Digital Watch not in attendance. No further action required.
Shaking his head in disbelief, the PM looked back to the pile, lifting a number of additional papers from the desk, ones which had come with this first sheet and had been attached to it by a paperclip. These sheets lacked the letterhead style, instead looking like an informally written document, but were infinitely more useful in knowing the true details of the case.
12/05/2011 - Digital Report by Whistleblower
The man frowned, the identity of the now-infamous Whistleblower still kept secret even to him, the highest ranked official in government. Why, he wasn't sure, but the quality of the reports meant that he didn't want to risk them being cut off by asking too many questions. What he did know was that the reports came via Rayleigh, someone who evidently knew Whistleblower well. The thing was, Whistleblower seemed almost omnipresent, able to find out almost anything which occurred. He also knew that Rayleigh wasn't Whistleblower, something which had occurred to him as possible but when he met Rayleigh at the same time as a battle went on not far from them was proved to be incorrect.
Battle in Chiyoda Ward
Combatants: Matt Ishida, Gabumon, Takeru Takashi, Patamon
Time: 17:29 to 17:42
The pair of Tamers came together to the bioemergence. Takeru was visiting Matt at their apartment. They went shopping for present for grandparent's birthday, but were interrupted en route by bioemergence call. Their conversation regarded how parents were getting on, life at university, life at school, etc.
Gabumon digivolved to Garurumon. Patamon digivolved to Pegasusmon. Battle was one-sided. Takeru used speed, power modify cards. Matt used no cards. Damage caused to a wall (total), an office building (minor) and roadway (minor), limited by the fact that the Digital Field lasted eight minutes and the battle lasted only five minutes longer. There were three bystanders at the time, two Japanese males and one Chinese female. One male and the female fled scene when battle started, other stayed for two minutes longer. No detailed Digital Watch report was posted afterwards so unlikely any of them are Digital Watch members.
Tamers resumed shopping trip. Chat about same topics as well as about battle. Email sent to Izzy Koushiro and Hypnos about it.
The PM was, as always, impressed by the attention to detail. What was more was that it wasn't only battles which the report covered. Below the latest battle update came an update on every Tamer, every element of their life at present that Whistleblower knew, all given in remarkable detail. Of course, from day to day there were only minor changes to most of them whilst certain items would have far more detail, Whistleblower evidently prioritising his monitoring activities to certain events. None of the Tamers had ever seemed to find out who Whistleblower was; they didn't even ever seem to see him right when he must've been right in front of them, right in their midst.
Currently on work placement with Fumiko Imai at Shinjuku General Hospital.
13/05/11 - will attend fashion shoot with Rumiko Nonaka.
Continuing to develop in her relationship as a parent to Rey Matsuki, competence has increased since initial days. Still breastfeeding. Assisted by Takato Matsuki (fiancé), Rumiko Nonaka (mother) and Seiko Hata (grandmother). Still in schooling, with no intention to leave. No issues of note at time of monitoring on 10/05/11, next monitoring will be 15/05/11.
The report continued with details of every single Tamer given. Their lives, any deviation in plans from the norm, perhaps in some places lacking detail but the overall detail more than making up for it. It was certainly a fantastic resource and had given much peace of mind, knowing that a major cover-up would be far harder for Hypnos and the Tamers to pursue without Rayleigh knowing. Rayleigh was telling him every little detail, and it was perfect. He needn't fear incomplete reports or sketchy information in decision-making again.
Regarding how to act on what it all told him, however, Inukai was less certain. There was, as yet, no reason to take any action on what was going on, and it would be likely to illicit public outcry from some parties. The best he could do was enforce the shoring up of Hypnos' defences, but so far such work seemed limited to simply upgrading Yuggoth, which seemed like a rather futile effort given how Rayleigh had reported that the system was, effectively, useless, at least in its current state. But, the PM could not complain as such without Yamaki finding out more about these 'special reports'.
The man let out a deep sigh of relief, repeating the thought he had had with a slight frown. "Checks and balances," he thought, looking down to inspect the information in more detail.
It was at that moment that the room, with a quiet slicing noise, was plunged into darkness. Something fell, not far from his ears, as his mind struggled to come to terms with the sudden change in atmosphere. The PM dropped the papers, which fell away onto the floor whilst he reached to his left, jabbing at the call button a number of times as his heart rate increased. He would normally have attributed such an event to a power cut, but…that noise…
"Hello?" he called, standing to his feet as he peered about the chamber, his frantic eyes taking a while to adjust as he cursed himself for his inventive imagination. He searched by the light of the city speckling through the window, seeing the light panel on the wall nearby. He moved quickly, turning on the trio of overhead mountings and breathing a sigh of relief as the lights came back on, the world returned to normal, supposedly. Yet…it clearly hadn't been a power cut. Perhaps a burst bulb? Frowning and mumbling about poor quality electrical, he scoured the room for some sign of what had transpired.
Nothing was there.
No sign of anyone, no sign to say that anything had happened…apart from one, very specific detail.
Widened eyes and a gaping jaw came to define the PM's face as he walked back to his chair and the side table. His steps were unsteady and uneasy, as he gazed in horror at the now-decapitated swan lamp, its polished wood shape now sliced perfectly in two. And indeed, it was a perfect cut, its workmanship almost as good as that of the lamp itself, something he would perhaps have appreciated more if put to constructive use. The head section lay on the table, the bulb that it had once lit the room with now cracked from where it had hit the surface.
His favourite lamp, destroyed.
But by what?
He stood up again, looking about and again seeing nothing. He grimaced; his belief beggared by how security with its supposedly perfect protection had as yet failed to arrive despite his use of the button.
It was at that moment that a series of cracks resounded across the room, the man looking up as a shadow moved out of the corner of his eye. He never caught what it looked like, but he saw its effects, every CCTV camera but one now gutted, their casing falling out of their wall insets and sprinkling to the floor like dust.
"Who's there?!" the PM roared, both out of anger and fear. As no reply came, however, the latter began to dominate.
World leader or no world leader, he was still a man, and, in the absence of anything to fight, he took the option to flight.
His feet pounded against the dark green carpet as he raced to the door, grabbing at the polished brass handle and pulling it in an attempt to open the large and reinforced hardwood door. It shuddered, stopped by the locks in place on it. He pulled harder, but it was no use. The door was deadlocked, and there was no escape. He turned, making a break for the only other door in the room, the emergency exit on the other side, flanked by the reinforced windows. He pulled on the bar, the door doing…nothing.
Panicked, his hands began to bash at the glass, but it was too strong. He put his head to the window, peering through and looking down to the escape stairs, now a crumpled heap two storeys below. He staggered back in disbelief, one hand rushing to the side of his head and pressing against his temple.
Someone was trying to kill him.
"Come on, remember your training," he mumbled, the idea of keeping thoughts to oneself going out his head very quickly. Despite a thousand security briefings, military training and his life permanently at-risk from a number of hostile parties, he still stood for a number of seconds before rushing his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
He jabbed at the buttons, first of all calling his personal security number, and then pressing to dial.
No signal found.
The man raised an eyebrow, gritting his teeth before simply calling the emergency number,
He put it back to his ear, amazed that his 'universal access' phone, free of any network obligations or fixation to only public transmitters, couldn't find anything. There was a transmitter right in the building, one able to penetrate even the high security walls and protection. This made absolutely no sense, but it didn't seem to be the only thing like that right now.
Looking up in frustration, he spied the traditionally-designed phone on the side table, making a bee line towards it and once again dialling the same number, albeit with an external call prefix. The brass digits felt as well worked and exquisite as ever, but his mind not in the mood to contemplate such a thought.
He lifted it to his ear, hearing a long, single tone. The phone was unable to connect. He reached down again, dialling an internal number.
Listening in again to the phone, he raised an eyebrow at the absence of any tone whatsoever. He glanced down, suddenly finding the cord connecting the handset to the base severed in two. And the cut was, unsurprisingly now, perfect as ever.
"Damn it," he cursed, turning and striding towards the computer on the opposite wall.
With a loud crashing noise, the lighting bracket nearest the door crashed down in front of him, moments from sending him to a painful grave.
He stepped around, quickly reaching to turn on the computer in the now dimmed room as his heart rate increased yet again, racing as he tapped his hands on the desk. His eyes flicked about, his head glancing behind and looking for any sign of his attacker.
Nothing manifested on the computer screen, and no whirring came from the terminal under the desk. Inukai slammed his hand against the keyboard, spinning round and yelling angrily.
"COME OUT!" he roared, hoping that at least his words would be heard by someone else in the building. He knew there was no other way out - the place was built to withstand a bomb attack, and every single circumvention designed to allow him to escape in such a situation had been systematically removed. The fire door would not reopen, no matter how much he attacked it. The glass was too hard, even the bookshelves couldn't break it if they fell onto it.
His heart raced faster than ever - if his assailant didn't get him he knew that a heart attack would.
He walked toward the shattered light stand, looking down at it mournfully. His footsteps were hard, every action a portmanteau of anger and fear. Testosterone pumped through his veins, as his hands curled into fists. He wasn't going down without a fight.
"COME OUT AND FACE ME!"
He almost leapt in the air as, behind him, an almost silent swish was followed by yet another cacophonous crash of wood and glass. He spun round, the room now much dimmer as he saw the lighting bracket closest to the windows now on the floor, another of his cherished belongings destroyed by the unseen force.
Eyes looked up, seeing the one remaining lighting bracket a metre or two from him, half-expecting it to fall right there and then. But, it didn't.
He stared. Something was going to happen. Something had to happen.
A tap at the window.
His eyes glanced away, only for the light to suddenly die out, the quiet smashing of bulbs singing in tune to it. He looked up, all but one of the twelve bulbs smashed in quick succession as a sprinkling of glass fell to the floor.
It took every ounce of discipline he had to stop himself screaming out in fear. What could possibly be doing this to him? A spectre of some kind? The man had never been religious or suspicious, but right now this seemed like nothing other than an act of God.
He looked up, seeing the single bulb there, the risk of it going out at any time causing his pulse to race, his mind throbbing as he daren't close his eyes.
As he stared, he swore he saw the light blink, fade, its filament dancing around and playing games with him, or was it simply his mind? Finally he could bear it no longer, abandoning all attempts to not show fear to his unseen opponent (to whom gentleman-like and honourable conduct evidently meant nothing) and taking a deep breath.
"…me?" interrupted a voice, its tone oddly jarring with the Japanese accent of the prime minister. The voice sounded antiquated somewhat, almost historic, and yet its actual tone was far newer, and had tinges of a child-like nature.
"…who…who are you?!" the man yelled, yet again to thin air.
The air in front of him rushed aside, a shape materialising in its place. Being a few metres away, unfortunately meant that however much the PM tried to focus his eyes, the illumination of the light bulb failed to reach it enough to define its form well (not that it was effective at lighting anything at all in its singular state). Of what he could see, it was a fairly tall and imposing one, one which was clearly not human, or if it was it was gargantuan. Its body seemed barren, absent of armour or colour, besides the dark coloured form itself, although he speculated the darkness was playing tricks with his vision. It was fairly slim, if slightly muscular in places, and a long, thin item, presumably a weapon, was held down in its hand.
"It does not matter."
"I am the Prime Minister of Japan, Inukai Keishiro, and by the power invested in me by its citizens I demand you tell me who you are!" he roared, putting every single ounce of his voice into anger and the avoidance of his real fear creeping through.
"Will they thank you?" the voice spoke, unfazed. It sounded masculine, yet, strangely, it sounded feminine, its tone a mix of young and old.
"What are you…?"
"Will they thank you, at their end?"
"Thank me for what?"
"Failing? At what?"
"Surviving." The figure raised his weapon, the PM taking a horrified step back before whatever it was harmlessly dug it back into the ground with a strong grip. A clanging noise sounded, the collision of the item with the metal supports of the building, but the floor creaked heavily as the support was broken through.
"How…how did you?! Wait…are you…a Digimon?"
"Humans are pathetic at survival," was all the figure replied on the subject.
"Why are you trying to kill me?"
"It is not personal."
"You are a King."
"What? I'm not a King! I'm a Prime Minister."
"If the King dies, the game is lost."
"But…" the PM began, pausing as he reheard what the figure had said. It was remarkable how still it had stood for all this time. "Are you referring to Chess?"
"This is a spark. Alternatively, you are the first domino."
"You are remarkably charismatic for a shadowed figure," the PM said, laughing in the grim face of death. Given the shadowed figure held a weapon in his hand, he very well may have been the reaper himself.
"I do not appreciate humour," it said again, its voice almost monotonous. Was this an act? Not a single tonal change in the Digimon's voice had made it clear what emotions it felt.
"Well then this is not funny. Let me go!"
"You know the room is sealed. The five hour lockdown has been activated."
"The…" Inukai began, his eyes widening. "Shit, no!" he exclaimed, recalling the ten hour lockdown procedure now in place, intended so that hostage-takers could not enter the room should the situation occur. Had security, his bane, been his downfall too? Fate had a dark sense of humour evidently, even if his enemy did not.
"Your escape routes have been locked. Your communications have been disabled. Your security system is down. All mobile transmitters in range have been destroyed."
"But there are military…"
"All mobile transmitters in range have been destroyed."
"Hmph," Mr Keishiro grunted, pondering why he had yet to be killed. Did the Digimon want his work showcased? If he was, pride could be his downfall. To make it so, the PM had to stall for long enough, and he doubted he could.
"Do you have any last questions?"
Feeling a lump come quickly to his throat at the word "last", the middle-aged man decided to make a point of the plural. "If your work is complete, why did you leave that security camera intact?" he asked, gesturing to the corner of the room. If the Digimon were to move to destroy it, he could have his chance at escape, perhaps by making his assassin shatter the window? That blade was powerful - he had to use it somehow, be it by his hands or by its.
The Digimon glanced aside, unfazed by the camera before looking back to his captive. "That is intentional."
Gritting his teeth, the PM cursed the failure of his distraction plan. What else could he do? "Why?"
"It will be useful later."
The Digimon did not reply.
"You asked if I had any last questions."
"I am not obligated to answer them. Now you will die," the Digimon said, taking a menacing step forward and into the light. The PM didn't have time to look, instead stumbling back as the weapon drew closer to him, his form falling to a crouch and the light now in his eye. The figure loomed over him, his eyes still unable to see clearly.
"Wait! Why are you killing me?!" he cried, feeling tears on his face, but they seemed distant. Everything was so surreal, so unusual. So terrifying.
"Because of what you let happen!" the figure said, its voice changing and a sadistic tone added to it. It sounded familiar, human, almost…
"Wait…no… it's…you! But…why? Why are you trying to kill me?! I have never…" the PM shrieked, his eyes widening in horror.
"Done anything to me? You really don't know anything, do you?"
The man stared on in disbelief, the reality of what was happening still failing to truly register in his mind. Unfortunately for him, it never would either.
His plans to push forward and survive overthrown by the shock of the revelation and ruled redundant by the sudden attack, Mr Keishiro could only react by screaming as he felt the metal of the weapon strike him and effortlessly pierce his skin and flesh. His voice simply wasn't there to holler though, dying out quickly, even as he wanted to cry more and more from the pain. His attempts to scream stopped, the weapon twisting, and then, to his horror, the sensation of piercing skin into flesh repeated again, only backwards…and behind.
His eyes widened, he reached to the weapon, pressing his hands against it but screaming in pain as it cut into his fingers, blood beginning to pour. Suddenly, his wish came through, the item ripped back out of him as more blood poured forth, Inukai falling onto his hands and screaming in pain. His screaming stopped as he coughed up blood, the Digimon watching nonchalantly.
"What does it feel like?" it asked, again in the second voice. It paused, looking into the Prime Minister's eyes as the blood pouring started to let up, not for lack of injury but merely for lack of blood.
This made no difference - the man had no voice, no words with which to speak, an ironic end for a man who was meant to be charismatic in his work. This, however, did not please his attacker.
"I asked…what does death feel like?" it repeated, its voice suddenly with a slight tone of panic to it. "Tell me…please…" it asked, frail tones overtaking it at its height.
But it was too late. Inukai Keishiro looked up, the blazing and angry eyes of his killer the last thing he would ever see, as darkness claimed him…
The Digimon looked down, gritting its teeth as it sharply kicked the corpse, irritated by its enemy's lack of strength and ability to mention what lurked beyond. Worried, the first voice spoke again, concerned and affectionate tones ladled into its voice. "R…"
"Shut up…it's nothing. Let's just get this over with," the second replied harshly, in no mood to extend this any longer.
"As you wish," the first said, joint hands rising with the weapon as power radiated through them. It rushed downwards, stabbing into the floor once again, through a puddle of blood…the tip glowing with energy…
A few moments later, Chiyoda Ward witnessed its loudest explosion for over 60 years.
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: A murder - a lovely, tasteful start to a new book, and one which inevitably raises more questions than answers. It was nice to have a retrospective on the lives of the Tamers and Hypnos between Book Six and now in any case. Hopefully my writing standard continues to be high even when it comes to such ghastly subject matter, and I'm hoping you're all nice and eager to see what follows…to which I reply, the inevitable, "wait and see."
For some reason, when writing the 'first voice', I couldn't help but hear it as per Yuki's voice in The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. Odd that.
Until next time…