Disclaimer: Digimon isn't mine. Don't sue, please.
A/N: This is a little piece that could conceivably fit in the normal Digimon timeline, if a few scenes were ignored. Please, do so.
The ruins of the control room that spread out before him seemed to mock him,
telling the tale of the rise and fall of the empire of Yamaki. Sparks still
flashed from broken panels, pieces of ceiling stuck out at odd angles from the
once valuable machinery.
He had been a fool.
Picking his way through the rubble, Yamaki felt empty, bereft of emotion. A cold knot in his stomach was the only sensation; and that, he ignored.
*I believed... I thought it was my duty to destroy Digimon. I thought that if I didn't, the world would be overrun, be destroyed by those parasites.*
Yamaki laughed; a harsh, bitter sound amid the destruction on all sides.
*And I was right. Partially.*
*Of course, I didn't take into account that the world can take quite good care of itself.*
He had finally reached the center of the room, where one of the control chairs had somehow survived miraculously intact. He sat down.
*The world chose its own defenders. Children, yes, but somehow able to do what I was unable to: protect this world.*
A fist clenched tightly on the chair's armrest, knuckles turning white.
*I sought to change that fact, to change what some might call destiny. I tried to make myself the defender of this world, and I tried to do it my own way.*
*But it was, of course, futile. I could no more change the course of destiny than a drop of water can change the course of a mighty river. I was not the one chosen. Those children were. Despite my genius, despite my advanced technology, I was passed over by destiny and given the same fate, in the end, as every other normal person: to sit, to watch, and to wait.*
Unclenching his fist, Yamaki buried his head in his hands. His shoulders shook with what might have been laughter, or might have been something else entirely. He sat there for several minutes, while all around him the crackle of electricity from half-destroyed machinery provided eerie background noise. But as he sat there, shoulders shaking, a thought flashed through his mind.
*But... I cannot have been given my intelligence for nothing; and maybe there is a reason I survived here, when I should have died. Maybe there is something I can still do. Not to change destiny this time, but to help it along.*
Yamaki pulled his hands away from his face, revealing dry eyes, and looked around at the destruction anew. This time, however, there was a glimmer of something different in his eyes; something a certain blond-haired, blue-eyed child from another time and place would have recognized instantly.
*Maybe it is time I stopped struggling against destiny, and learned to accept it.*
Getting up from the chair, Yamaki walked over to one relatively undamaged console. Popping oven the access panel on the side, he started yanking out components and tossing them on the ground.
*As the drop of water does not know where the river is going, so too do I not know where destiny may be taking me. But maybe this little drop of water can help somehow.*
Seemingly satisfied with the pile of electronics before him, Yamaki stood up and grabbed a pair of pliers, a screwdriver and a soldering iron out of a box on the wall designed originally for emergency repairs. Settling himself onto the floor once again, Yamaki let a small smile play across his face.
*And I think... I think that I might like that.*