For Our Lord

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

Digimon and High School DxD belong to their respective owners.

---

A lone soul was drifting through the expanse of darkness.

The soul belonged to a warrior and a great one at that. He had survived hundreds of battles and led numerous successful campaigns throughout his life, so much so that he had been given the name 'the General who knows no defeat'. But even he wasn't above fate and had eventually stepped into his last battlefield.

The warrior didn't curse the destiny which had befallen him. No, he was feeling quite the opposite in fact. For this had been the ending he'd been searching for throughout his long life, and finally, it had been granted to him: a chance to face an opponent with skills and will rivaling, even surpassing, his own.

To put it simply, this had been the perfect closure for Tactimon and the infamous Head Officers of Bagra Empire couldn't help but grin as the memories of his fated duel came flooding back to his mind.

---

In the ultimate battle that would decide the fate of the Digital World, the evil Bagra Empire was facing an offensive just outside their headquarters, having hastily dubbed the attacker 'the Alliance'. The opposing army had managed to gather a sizable force, composed of the surviving members of the Royal Knights, along with the last remaining pockets of the Digimon resistance groups, and of course, the legendary armies of Xros Heart and Blue Fire, led by their renowned young human generals.

As the battle raged between the two armies, a strike force consisting of the human generals and their closest Digimon partners, who had DigiXrosed into a giant warrior, Shoutmon X7, had managed to slip inside the Bagra Empire's giant fortress, the Great Pandemonium. The small group was soaring through the air, straight toward the throne room located in the stronghold's tallest tower, their mission to finally end the Xros Wars.

High in the tower, sitting on a throne, was the Digimon responsible for this hundreds-of-years-long conflict, Emperor Bagramon, a former high-ranking angel Digimon who had been cast down by the Heavens. Along with Bagramon were his most trusted subordinates, his remaining two Head Officers. Standing on the right side of the throne was a cruel creature owning a bewitching appearance, the Demon Lord of Lust, Lilithmon. On his left side stood a soldier wearing armor reminisced that of a samurai, Tactimon. The third and last Head Officer, Blastmon, was absent.

While the giant crystal-bodied general wasn't one to usually inform the other Head Officers of his affairs, and while somewhat simple-minded, Blastmon was a force of nature, boasting a body and power that was among the top of the Digital World, and so it was usually overlooked if the gem-eating Head Officer had ventured unannounced to conquer some Zone. However, Tactimon nor Lilithmon had heard from Blastmon since his departure, and all the attempts contacting him to help and bolster the Pandemonium's defenses had been met with silence. While neither Head Officer had said it out loud, it seemed that their fellow commander had been defeated.

As the invader's strike force burst through the stone wall opposite the throne, Bagramon gave Tactimon permission to unleash his sword's full might. The samurai felt how the seal his Lord had placed on the scabbard broke, awakening the slumbering beast dwelling inside the ancient weapon. His left hand tightened around the scabbard, as he heard the chain binding it rattle against the marble floor, no longer needing it to hide his blood-lust. Finally, he could bare his fangs again after so long, and like a snake who struck on its prey, his hand shot to the sword's hilt, ready to unleash the storm that resided inside it.

With a draw, Tactimon's final battle had begun. He leaped forward, Lilithmon not far behind him casting an offensive magic spell, all the while Bagramon sat serenely on his throne, observing how the play would unfold.

However, the two Head Officers' clash against Shoutmon X7 was short-lived when the floor suddenly exploded under them, collapsing the throne room's marble tiles in the process.

The source of this unexpected interruption was no other than Dark Knightmon, a mysterious Digimon who had made his mark on the Xros Wars not a long time ago, and whom Bagra Empire didn't frustratingly have much information of. Lilithmon had faced this dark knight once in the Sweet Zone and what Tactimon had been able to discern from the Demon Lord's excuses for almost destroying another Zone in one of her so-called explosions, the Digimon posed enough power and skills to give even her some trouble.

Yet what rose beneath the floor barely resembled Lilithmon's description. Instead of a huge knight in black armor, a chimera-like creature greeted them, composed of many different Digimon he had forcefully absorbed into himself, in what seemed like a desperate attempt to accumulate power. Dark Knightmon, if the hulking amalgamation could even be called that anymore, had taken more than he could bargain for: eyes were clouded from madness and as he cackled manically, a serpentine tongue lolled from his unnaturally long mouth. The monstrous Digimon then vowed to take down Bagramon himself, who continued to sit on his throne, calmly watching the spectacle in silence.

As the floor beneath Tactimon collapsed, the samurai noticed rather familiar-looking crystalline spikes growing from Dark Knightmon's back and heard Lilithmon's outraged voice, having seen the same thing. Now they knew why Blastmon hadn't shown up.

Soon Tactimon was falling along with the humans and Shoutmon X7, leaving Bagramon and Lilithmon to deal with Dark Knightmon. A wordless wish for them to avenge Blastmon was all Tactimon could spare before he resumed his duel against Shoutmon X7. Any lingering thoughts on Blastmon's cruel fate were forgotten, as the samurai concentrated on defeating the enemy in front of him.

Before Tactimon or Shoutmon X7 knew it, their duel had led them outside the Great Pandemonium's spire to the middle of a raging war-zone. Neither side had paid any attention to the conflict revolving around them, their focus solely on each other as the two warriors continued their fierce engagement in the air.

Both sides gave their all, but in the end, Tactimon bested Shoutmon X7. With a decisive strike, the Digimon were forced from their combined form and were scattered on the ground, beaten and exhausted, soon to taste his sword.

But to Tactimon's great surprise and delight, his adversaries weren't ready to give up just yet.

The human children who had accompanied these Digimon, sharing the many hardships throughout the war, started to encourage their friends to rise back up again, having unfaltering faith in their partners. It was all the Digimon needed to hear to continue the fight.

So pure were the hopes and dreams the young humans had for their digital friends, that they manage to reach and resonated in their very souls, giving the Digimon power to continue, and to Tactimon's astonishment, allowing them to evolve. The samurai witnessed in silent shock how injuries were healed, strength was restored, and new shining armor and weapons formed around their bodies as their forms grew.

What Tactimon saw was not supposed to be possible, their kind having lost the ability to change forms eons ago. To evolve by just strongly wishing for it to happen shouldn't be feasible anymore.

It'd brought a long-forgotten rush of excitement for Tactimon when the humans and their digital partners stood up defiantly once again, ready for a second round. The two sides had then clashed again and Tactimon felt he wasn't facing anymore the metal of the weapons, or the claws and fists of his opponents, but their blazing hot spirits, which threatened to burn him.

At first, Tactimon successfully fended off coming attacks, but the newly evolved Digimon had one more trick to show for him. DigiXrosing for one last time, the Digimon's hearts became one, beating for the same united purpose that flowed through their veins, and from that unity, a golden warrior, Shoutmon EX6, was born. With newfound vigor, Shoutmon EX6 came rushing toward Tactimon, and the commander of the Bagra Army had to give his all to not become overwhelmed by the onslaught he was facing.

As the two sides continued their clash, Tactimon got a glimpse of the final act of the centuries-long play Bagramon had started, his master having finally found the answer in his quest to save the Digital World from its grim fate where only misery and death reigned. The answer, it seemed, was that there was no saving it. And so, to stop their world from being transformed into a place of eternal suffering, to stop it from getting twisted anymore by the influence of the human world, where misery and apathy reigned in humanity's consciousness, Bagramon had decided to put an end to it before it would be too late.

While the battle raged between the two armies of good and evil, Tactimon witnessed how the prophesized Beast of Apocalypse, Zeed Millenniumon, emerged from the Great Pandemonium's tallest spire, right where his Lord's throne room was located.

The Beast was composed of two serpentine spirits, one of rusting red, the other midnight purple. The two snakes ascended toward the sky, circling each other, forming a vortex that swallowed anything that got caught in its hungry tendrils. On top of the swirling mass of red and black, two draconic heads rose, of which the red one had a great horn adorning its face.

The monster dwarfed the hundred-meter tower it came from and immediately started hungrily devouring the fortress, absorbing the data that composed the massive building inside its body. It was only a matter of time now before Zeed Millenniumon would destroy the Digital World completely, leaving nothing in existence. A new era was about to begin, one where there would be no light or darkness, no space or time.

After seeing the start of the end of times, Shoutmon EX6 got furious and charged toward Tactimon with burst of speed. Finally, as Tactimon was forced to intercept a strike he couldn't evade, the old commander knew he had found what he'd been searching for his long life.

The upcoming attack shined like the brightest of stars, and as it struck his sword, it went right through the blade, shattering it to thousands of pieces, continuing straight at him. As Tactimon felt the impact on his chest, it resonated all the way to his Digicore, igniting something deep inside him that the samurai had forgotten existed.

Truly, he was blessed to have been given the chance to face this warrior, Tactimon thought, as he was sent careering down, leaving a long burrow on the ground.

As Tactimon labouredly got up, he graciously congratulated the Digimon and the young humans, telling them to continue to walk on the path they had chosen and to never give up, no matter what challenges or impossible odds laid ahead of them.

With that, the infamous commander of the Bagra Army, having loyally served his Lord to the very end, was finally freed from his duty. There were no more plans to be created, no more Zones to be conquered, and no more meetings to be had concerning the state of the Xros Wars. In a strange way it was liberating, and Tactimon welcomed the darkness that came to his mind with open arms.

---

And here he was, still in the dark with no recollection of how he had gotten here or what 'here' actually meant, completely stripped from senses as he was. There was no way to tell how much time had passed before he had regained consciousness. The only thing the soldier — for he was a samurai without a master now — could do was think, something he had been practicing in this pitch-black world quite a lot.

After coming to his senses, Tactimon first believed he had arrived in the Dark Area, his soul having been sent to the purgatory. He was prepared to face the punishment, should it be so. He was no saint, leading armies into countless conquests and battles his Lord needed him did guarantee bloodshed. Warriors and innocent Digimon alike had died by his hand, such was the tragedy of war.

Getting bored thinking over again about the potential ways his soul would be tortured while waiting for the actual event to begin, Tactimon's mind started to wander. Perhaps this dark place was for him to reflect on all the sins he had committed and with enough repentance, his soul would be allowed to rest properly. Another possibility that came to his mind was he was still simply waiting for the final judgment to happen. One of the biggest battles had been taking place in the Digital World after all, and he wasn't the only one to lose their life. Who knew how many others had died shortly before him and were waiting similarly to him?

Be it becoming mad in the void, experiencing his karma, or something else, Tactimon knew deep inside him it all would soon come to an end. Zeed Millenniumon had been released, and would eventually reach the critical mass after absorbing the Digital World, collapsing their reality and razing even this plane from existence alongside him, making whoever was responsible for his fate most displeased that their hard work was going to be for naught.

Tactimon let the idea briefly amuse him before dismissing it. He wouldn't normally have given such frivolous things much attention, but considering the situation he was in, he allowed it.

And so, the lone soul of the deceased warrior continued his lonely existence in the expanse of darkness, waiting for his inevitable end.

---

'…60478, 60479 and 604800.'
That was how many seconds Tactimon had counted, after which he finally allowed himself to admit that something was wrong here. Lord Bagramon had predicted that it would take but a few days for the Digital World to be completely devoured if Zeed Millenniumon was ever released, and Tactimon knew his master was rarely if ever wrong. So what did it mean that he was still here and existing?

'Could it be possible? Were the human generals and the Digimon able to avert our world's destruction?' Like a small flame that kindled to life, the idle thought had come to him.

A darker part of Tactimon's mind told him to forget the idea. While his opponent had exceeded his wildest estimations, even they had their limits, and their spirits could carry them only so far.

'Pondering over things you can't confirm won't bring you any closer to an answer,' Tactimon decided as a final verdict, hoping to put an end to the subject, but the stubborn flame of thought refused to die, leaving him in doubt.

Suddenly and without warning, everything changed.

Tactimon winced as he felt his eyes burning. It took him a moment to realize this was because he could see again, although he almost wished he couldn't, so much did it hurt to see. Forcing his eyes shut, he patiently waited for his vision to return before carefully squinting.

His new surroundings seemed to consist of iridescent colors, constantly changing in shape. The weird colorscape reached as far as his eyes could see in every direction the Digimon looked, making it seem like orientation was just a suggestion here. After seeing nothing else besides the expanse of colors, he diverted his gaze away from the weird landscape to himself. What Tactimon saw was something he wasn't expecting.

The soldier was staring at a loose flock of data that was floating around similar to flower petals carried by the wind, their shape vaguely resembling his body.

'Is this… me?' Tactimon wondered. Bringing his hands up, the soldier examined tiny floating bits of data that formed his fingers, curling them into fists before letting them open again.

It was most definitely him, his freely floating Digicore to be more exact. He could feel it. Now if he could only know the how and why….

Tactimon was abruptly pulled from his fascination as he realized two things. First, he could feel again and not just his still aching eyes, but a creeping pain all over his body that soon started to become unbearable. Second, he could hear again. More precisely, he could hear himself cry out in pain.

Instantly, deeply rooted training lessons took over him.

Getting his voice under control, Tactimon started wordlessly repeating a familiar mantra. With this, the stormy waters in his mind subsided, becoming a mirror-like surface that, oh, so perfectly reflected everything. This made Tactimon calm down and his senses sharpened. It took some more effort, but finally he managed to reduce the agony he was feeling to the background in his mind. While it still hurt, Tactimon could now at least concentrate on other things besides the excruciating pain.

Next, Tactimon extended his senses around him. While it seemed like he was alone, the soldier didn't lower his guard. He'd had enough surprises as of late.

After securing his surroundings, Tactimon focused back on himself, and grimly observed how his spectral hands were steadily dissolving like a swarm of Piranimon were shredding them to pieces. Looking over himself, he could see the same phenomena happening all over his ghastly figure.

To Tactimon, it was like he had entered some twisted version of Digital Space. And just like the Digital Space where anything not powerful enough to resist its hazardous nature would be reduced to noise data in mere minutes, the same thing seemed to happen here.

He tried to gather his power, to see if he could stop himself from breaking apart or even slow down the process but it was useless. Tactimon was too weak to fight against his disintegration and the effort just made him more exhausted.

'Perhaps it would be better just to succumb to death quickly rather than trying to prolong the inevitable.' A darker part of his mind reasoned.

As Tactimon's body continued to dissolve, it became harder to form coherent thoughts, his vision started to dim and his body became numb. It was then the soldier felt he wasn't alone anymore. Something was observing him.


Something powerful.


The feeling of uneasiness came behind, and after an arduous ordeal of getting his ethereal body rotated, the soldier concentrated. He had to fight the growing headache that was getting worse by the second, and the weird kaleidoscopic dimension didn't make things any easier, making Tactimon curse the ever-changing colors.

After a while, he saw it. A giant black spot, floating between the nauseating landscape, quickly growing in size.

'Not growing, getting closer,' Tactimon corrected himself.

The fast-approaching spot was so big that even with his deteriorating eyesight, he was able to tell that the silhouette belonged to a being of giant proportions and Tactimon strained his eyes to make out more details. It was challenging, but he could discern what he presumed was a giant draconic head, crimson in color, with an appendage — a horn he surmised — growing from its head.

The soldier could feel the raw power emanating from the creature, its magnitude being something he had never felt before. Just the difference between him and this monster was like comparing a dying piece of ember to a sun, if even greater. No being he had ever come across was even remotely comparable to it. No being, except that one.

There was only one creature that could compare to what he saw and felt: the red-black two-headed dragon, Zeed Millenniumon.

'So, they were unable to change the fate of our world.' Tactimon realized, and he could feel a wave of disappointment wash over him. This only meant one thing, that the Digital World was no more.

As the Dragon of Apocalypse got closer, Tactimon began to accept his fate. Only skeletal remains were now left of his ethereal body, and it was only a matter of choice if the Dragon got him before he perished.

The Dragon's crimson head was now almost on him, and as it opened it's its huge maw, the soldier began to accept his fate. Tactimon had his wish granted, there was nothing else for him waiting in the future or for anyone else for that matter.

As Tactimon was about to be swallowed by the Dragon of Apocalypse, something took hold of his spirit. The small flame that had been ignited inside him in his final battle suddenly started to shine brighter in defiance. The flame, now the size of a bonfire, spread its light, burning away the shadows of apathy and despair that were gnawing at him and made Tactimon remember the last words Shoutmon and others had declared to him before his death.

There will come a day where there will be a happy future.

That will turn even that scowl into laughter.

We'll be making that future!

It was such a naive thing to believe in. What were the dreams of a few against the whole rotting world? How could you change the fate that had already been written?

But the pure conviction behind those passionate words said to him… That conviction made it seem like there was nothing that could stop that Dream coming true. It made the impossible look possible, and it made the soldier want to believe in that impossible dream as well.

As the Dragon's maw began to close on him, Tactimon made up his mind. Even if his end was imminent, even if there was no salvation in sight, he would not give up. Yes, he refused to give up! He wanted to see the future Shoutmon and the others believed in.

'A future where even a stubborn soul like me could laugh freely…' Was Tactimon's last thought, as the Dragon closed its huge maw around him.

Once again, the soldier was greeted with darkness.

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

In a long hallway, footsteps echoed across the marble floor.

Between the imposing stone pillars that flanked the walls, a lone figure walked with a measured pace. His gaze held firm at the two doors located at the end of the hall, not sparing a glance at the beautiful craftsmanship surrounding him. Reaching the end of the hallway, the figure stopped. A few seconds passed before the double doors slowly began to open by an unseen force, letting crisp air inside, fluttering his cape.

Behind the doors, a balcony greeted him. Just like everything else here in the Great Pandemonium, this observation post was built with size in mind; you could comfortably hold over forty Digimon of various sizes here and there would still be plenty of room left.

Continuing his walk, the figure was soon met by a person leaning against a parapet. Their back was turned to the newcomer, watching the mist that was ever-present in the Jupiter Zone, hiding the fortress and the surrounding canyons underneath it. Through the slowly gliding mist, the last rays of sunlight could be seen illuminating the distant horizon.

Stopping a respectable distance away from the watcher the figure knelt. His left hand came to a rest on his bent knee, while his right hand hung freely. Looking downward with reverence, the Digimon announced his arrival.

''Your Highness.''

''Tactimon.'' Turning around Bagramon greeted the soldier, his deep and gravelly voice commanding attention.

Tactimon felt his lord's gaze linger on him for a moment before continuing. ''Come, let us talk.''

Having permission to stand, Tactimon rose, eyes turning towards Bagramon whose left hand was gesturing for the soldier to take a place next to him.

Bagramon seemed just as same when Tactimon last saw him. His Highness' robes and cape were white as snow and without a blemish, and a series of golden plates decorating his front, with a silver-grey gemstone adorning in the middle of his breastplate. The clothes of his master under the plating came from the best tailors found in the Dress Zone, who used only high-quality materials, with the fabric being soft as velvet, yet almost as strong as low-purity Chrome Digizoid.

As beautiful and masterfully crafted as Bagramon's garments were, it was the right side of the Fallen Angel's body that garnered the most attention. Where there used to be flesh and blood had been replaced with carved pieces of ivory wood from head to toe, the most notable part being the giant skeletal hand which was almost as long as Bagramon himself. Not many knew the origin of Tactimon's master's prosthetics, and even fewer the godly powers and knowledge he had been granted by them. With eight beautiful ashen colored wings sprouting from his back and five red horns growing from his head, from where long gray hair reached over his shoulders, Bagramon truly seemed like the angel of death in Tactimon's eyes.

While his lord's appearance was formidable with shining scarlet eyes full of power, Tactimon could also see the wisdom and empathy in them, reserved for the lives that the evil his master commanded had claimed. There was also the weariness that had slowly yet steadily taken place in Bagramon's countenance, as the uncounted years and the Xros Wars that were still going on after centuries were getting on to his lord, even if Bagramon tried his best to hide it.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed since Tactimon had last seen his master, bringing a feeling of nostalgia to the soldier. It was strange, since he remembered seeing Bagramon just a couple of days ago.

It was then that Tactimon noticed how his head ached a little. While rare, the Digimon sometimes got these for not letting his mind rest enough.

'I must have spent too much time in the command center.' Tactimon reasoned. He would have to make sure not to repeat this easily avoidable mistake in the future. Clearing his head, he focused back on the present.

After coming to stand to his lord's side, Bagramon returned to marvel at the misty sights to which Tactimon felt compelled to join. Neither of them said a word, enjoying the silence for what it was. Yet Tactimon's headache was growing by the minute, the soldier trying his best to ignore it.

''I hope I didn't pull you away from anything urgent?'' As always, Bagramon voiced his concerns to Tactimon even when he knew the answer ahead.

''Your summons will always take precedence over other matters, Your Highness.'' Tactimon assured.

''If you say so. Your constancy is always appreciated.'' Bagramon replied.

''I am unworthy of such praise. It's only natural for a retainer to come when his lord is calling.'' Tactimon insisted and bowed.

To this day, he was not used to the praise of his master from something that came naturally to him. Even when the two had known each other for several lifetimes worth, Tactimon still acted formally around his lord, no matter the situation.

Lifting his head back up, Tactimon saw Bagramon glancing at him from the corner of his eye. After a moment, a short chuckle came from the Fallen Angel and a small smile formed on his lips. ''You may say so, but having such diligent and loyal general is not always given, especially at the times we live in. It's one of the reasons why I feel need to express my gratitude to you and other hard working members of my Empire.''

''I live to serve, Your Highness.'' Was all Tactimon could say, his headache momentarily forgotten due to his lord's sincerity.

This made Bagramon have another, softer smile, before his attitude became more sober. ''Yes. Now then, the real reason of my summon. How is the situation on obtaining the Code Crowns going?''

At the subject change, Tactimon readily started reciting their progress. ''The rate at which we have conquered Zones has seen a decline for the first time, Your Highness. Bamboo Zone's conquest has come to stall since the Blue Fire arrived there, and the Lava Zone's code crown has fallen to the Xros Heart. We are also experiencing an unusually high amount of resistance from the City Zone and I believe we won't be able to hold it, should either of the Human General's forces arrive there.''

''I see. Excellent work, Tactimon.'' Bagramon said, satisfied with what he heard.

While many would have found Bagramon's answer unusual or perhaps even insulting, Tactimon knew better.

All Three Head Officers, the closest people to Bagramon, knew the Xros Wars were started because their lord wished to see the end of the injustice that inhabited the Digital World, but only Tactimon was entrusted with the true objective of his lord's plan. Conquering all of the Digital World under the iron rule of Bagra Empire was not their end goal like most feared. What Bagramon wanted was to have a war between light and dark, good and evil, to find out which side prevailed. It didn't matter if their Empire faced defeat or success, as long as the human children summoned to Digital World by the Fallen Angel were facing tribulations, everything would proceed as His Highness had planned with none the wiser. The humans, carrying the last remaining of hopes and dreams, would in time demonstrate if it was possible to overcome the apathy and misery plaguing their world, which Bagramon had decided to become the leader of.

Yet again Tactimon was left impressed, reminiscing the time Bagramon had revealed his true plan to him. Truly, you would need to scour the earth and the very heavens to find someone as wise as his master, the soldier firmly believed.

While he wasn't sure how much his fellow Head Officers suspected they were being left out, and even if they held some unvoiced suspicion, Tactimon knew it wasn't something worth getting worried about. Lilithmon had sworn to defend her beloved lord to her last breath and Blastmon was someone who simply didn't care, being happy to just getting to admire his own physique and search which Zone held the most gems to devour. Tactimon himself would follow his lord without a question. After all, unwavering loyalty was one of the traits Bagramon had ensured the perfect soldier that Tactimon was would carry.

Thinking about his two close associates brought unexpected gloominess to Tactimon, which had not expected. His headache was also getting worse by the second, almost like something was trying to worm inside his head. On top of that, the soldier started to feel something was plain wrong here, and a looming feeling of unease was starting to take hold of the soldier. He had to voice these thoughts to his master.

''Your Highness, do you feel as if something is not as it should be?'' Tactimon asked and looked at Bagramon, who continued to gaze at the misty scenery where dusk was starting to fall.

''Hmm. Please elaborate on what you mean.''

''I apologize, Your Highness,'' Tactimon bowed his head instinctively while fighting the headache, the pain was starting to become too distracting, ''but it's hard to put into words. While this feels normal, by senses say that something is very wrong here. When I try to concentrate on what this could be, the answer eludes me, like a dream that one tries to remember after waking.'' There was something important Tactimon was missing, something he shouldn't have forgotten.

''Curious. I feel no such thing.''

Was he the only one who felt this then? Perhaps he should inquire if Lilithmon or Blastmon had noticed anything unusual.

'Wait. Blastmon was absorbed by Dark Knightmon.' Tactimon remembered and chided himself for forgetting something so essential. Then his mind finally caught up on the implication.

Like a flash of lightning, realization struck Tactimon, and the memories of his final duel came rushing back to him: he had died, found himself in a limbo of sorts, seeing Zeed Millennium coming for him and then… everything after that was hazy. Deciding to drop that part for now, Tactimon's head snapped in Bagramon's direction.

''There was a battle raging right outside the gates of the Great Pandemonium, Your Highness!'' Realizing he had raised his voice, Tactimon composed himself, not letting the pain inside his head get the better of him and continued with a more measured tone. ''The Xros Heart and Blue Fire, we fought them here. I fought against them and they bested me.''

Feeling how his hands were squeezing the parapet with such force that cracks were starting to appear, Tactimon let go of the stone structure and fully turned towards Bagramon.

''Your Highness, you finally found the answer, and with that the path that had to be taken,'' Tactimon looked around as if seeing everything for the first time before focusing back on his lord. ''How can we still stand here if the world ended?''

The feeling of wrongness was starting to become oppressive.

''I do find this strange indeed,'' Bagramon remarked, still facing the misty landscape. When he spoke again, he sounded no longer himself. ''I have a question for you as well.''

Bagramon turned around, and pitch black eyes met Tactimon's. As his lord opened his mouth, Tactimon heard a lifeless and apathetic voice that sounded plain wrong coming from his master. ''Why do you smell Red?''

''What is this!?'' Taking a step back, Tactimon witnessed as everything started to collapse around him. The sky, the floor, even Bagramon himself, everything before his eyes was crumbling away while shadows rose. Before he knew it, the all-too-familiar darkness greeted him.

But this time the soldier wasn't alone.

Tactimon found himself surrounded by countless reptilian eyes. Twice his size with slitted pupils, the black orbs somehow illuminated the otherwise lightless place with their ethereal glow, the aura they emitting threatening to make his skin crawl. The eyes formed a single impossibly long line, making twists and turns seemingly at random, continuing so far that the necklace of stars became distant constellations, until completely disappearing from his sight. Everywhere Tactimon looked, he saw how the black eyes lazily circling around him like a snake. Every eye, from the closest to the distant ones and beyond, was staring at him, never blinking.

This thing was the origin of the wrongness he had felt in his mind and with growing horror, Tactimon realized that he had somehow let this creature enter his mind unknowingly.

The shock was quickly replaced by anger. How dared this thing sully his inner sanctuary with its presence, to allow it to stay in His Highness' most trusted officer mind any longer was to spit in his lord's memory!

Tactimon sprang into action. His first response was to strike at the closest eye to him in hopes of breaking the assailant's concentration and severing the connection they shared, or at least hindering it enough so he could force the assailant out of his mind. The plan was quickly discarded when the soldier realized in alarm that he couldn't move. His limbs felt like lead as if El Doradimon's weight had been applied to his whole body. Even words refused to come out of his mouth, so great was the force holding him in place.

Quickly switching in approach, Tactimon gathered whatever strength he had left to raise his mental barriers in an attempt to shield his memories, but this turned out to be futile. The power this alien presence wielded seemed as infinitely great as the number of eyes it had, and his previously unconquered mental fortresses' gates were left open, allowing the entity to devour all the knowledge he held unopposed.

To his small relief, the unknown assailant didn't seem to have made any attempt to dig the deepest parts of his mind, where his most closely guarded secrets resided, being content in going over his surface memories, for now at least.

Tactimon was not letting this window of opportunity be wasted. Seeing how outmatched he was, there was only one approach left, one born from desperation and hopes of buying time.

Having invaded his mind, the creature had formed a mental connection between the two, meaning he should be able to relay his thoughts and feelings to the opposite party too. The creature in question seemed to possess at least some intelligence, so he hoped this worked. Otherwise, things would become much more dire.

Taking a nonexistent breath, Tactimon reached out.

'Begone, out of my head! The memories of the dead are not for sharing!' Saying his piece with all the authority and emotion the former Head Officer of the Bagra Army could muster, Tactimon saw how the eyes surrounding him suddenly halted their movement, and felt the alien presence mostly withdrawn from his mind.

''At last, you are conscious.''

Thousands of beings spoke as one from everywhere. Unprepared, the tidal wave of voices came crashing down, making Tactimon's head ring. Five words, yet they carried such terrifying strength.

'I thought you would never wake up.' the creature continued with its thundering voices.

Having gotten back his bearings, Tactimon was ready this time, bracing against the torrent. While the chorus reverberated throughout his whole body and soul, he sensed no anger or other strong feelings imbued with the message.

Having guessed right he was dealing with an intelligent being, Tactimon carefully chose his next words. 'While this soul might be at the end of its journey, the knowledge I possess is still mine to guard. Who are you, who is so interested in what I hold?'

'I am Ouroboros Dragon, Ophis. Dragon God born from Nothingness, the embodiment of Infinity.' the now appointed Dragon God rumbled.

Ophis. A name Tactimon was not familiar with. It seems he had ended up far from home. The power he felt from Ophis, along with the titles the Dragon carried made one thing certain at least: he was dealing with someone he should avoid offending.

Since the other party had given their name, he felt compelled to do the same.

'Very well, Ouroboros Dragon. I am Tactimon, just a simple swordsman who found his match in the field of battle.' Tactimon respectfully announced, feeling no need to add titles for himself. In his eyes, not having a master to serve anymore meant he was nothing more than a simple warrior who had lost his life.

'You are not of this world, Tactimon.' Ophis stated, its eyes beginning to circle him once more in their leisured pace.

'That seems to be so.' Tactimon warily agreed, leaving out the complaint of her having most likely learned this from reading his mind. It would not do well to antagonize the Dragon, not yet at least.

Deciding to take the lead in their conversation, Tactimon prepared to ask a question that would decide the course of this conversation, bracing himself for what the answer would be.

'Tell me, Ouroboros Dragon, for what reason have you sought me out?'

The few seconds that passed before Ophis answered felt like eternity to Tactimon.

'I sensed Great Red's presence outside the Dimensional Gap, and came to investigate. When I arrived, I found your lingering soul, its essence almost fully evaporated, and got curious. By connecting our minds, I have been able to keep the remnants of your essence from completely disappearing, at least for a while longer.'

So he had been on the borderline of annihilation? How delightful.

It would explain what had just happened; he had been hallucinating in a near-death state, and while being at his most vulnerable, had unknowingly offered Ophis straight access to his prided mind. Be it the truth or not, the soldier agreed that his life was nearing its end. He felt very frail, just a single breath and he would shatter into millions of pieces, he imagined.

But he couldn't give up just yet, Tactimon reminded himself and would have gritted his teeth, should he have had any. He still wasn't sure what Ophis' intentions were, seeing that the Dragon was still keeping his data from scattering to the winds of cosmos. He had to ascertain the Dragon's motives.

It was best to make the most of the situation, Tactimon decided. He at least wanted to have some answers about this bizarre state of afterlife of his.

'Pardon my ignorance, Ouroboros Dragon, but as an outsider, this ''Great Red'' and ''Dimensional Gap'' are not something I am familiar with.'

'The Dimensional Gap is a plane of absolute silence located between the various worlds. I was born there, enjoying its silence,' The thousands of eyes slightly narrowed and Tactimon could feel a faint feeling of annoyance emitted from Ophis, the Dragon God displaying emotion for the first time. 'Then came Great Red, Dragon of great nuisance. He invaded my home, bringing his incessant commotion that deprived me of the silent existence. Despite my efforts, he would not leave the Dimensional Gap, and so forced me to abandon my home.'

So this Great Red was someone that Ophis regarded as an enemy and was powerful enough to drive out the Embodiment of Infinity? Tactimon's mind began to work on this new information. Could this be a trap created by Great Red to lure Ophis here by using him as bait? If so, Great Red must have found Tactimon when he was unconscious. The soldier tried to remember what had exactly happened after his demise, but the memories were spotty and blurry at best. The last thing he could remember was being swallowed by Zeed Milleniumon.

Seeing no progress on that part of the puzzle, Tactimon decided to focus on Ophis' revelation of the existence of multiple worlds.

While the Digital World had been split into many Zones that could be thought of as worlds of their own, those still existed within the digital realm, just like the Dark Area. While theories and hypotheses of alternative dimensions had been proposed by scholars throughout the times, nothing concrete was ever found to support these claims. To hear that there were more universes out there than his own, not counting the Human World of course, was quite a revelation with all the implications it carried.

Tactimon sighed. The more answers he got, the more questions he was left with it seemed. There were too many unknowns and if he wished to get a full picture, he would need to ask more questions. This he believed would not be a problem— his conversation partner didn't appear to hesitate at all telling him about their past, which was most likely because they didn't consider him a threat at all. As much as he loathed to admit it, this was accurate.

But perhaps the most important question was, did he really need to know anything from where Ophis' came from? Tactimon had fulfilled his duty, there wasn't anything else left for him, the soldier assured himself. He only needed to ascertain what the Dragon's true motives were for him and try to let it leave him alone so he could die in peace.

Tactimon's ruminations came to a halt when the thousand-eyed Dragon decided to address him again, their thunder-like voice filling the silence.

'Your realm is interesting Tactimon. Similar yet different. Does there also exist a place of absolute silence between dimensions?'

So that's what Ophis wanted to know, Tactimon realized. Having lost their residence, the Ouroboros Dragon was looking for an alternative place to migrate. It all made sense now. But here came the problem: his world had been annihilated and he didn't know how Ophis would react to the news.

Should he lie or tell the truth? Tactimon was debating now what he should say. In the end, he decided to be truthful, not wanting to take a risk of the Dragon discovering it was fooled, should it decide to continue going over his memories.

'There was something similar, yes. We called it Digital Space. Unfortunately, I cannot say if it could have been described as a place of silence akin to your home.'

'You speak in the past tense. Does it not exist anymore?'

'You are correct, Ouroboros Dragon. While I did not personally witness the end, I saw the beginning of it,' Tactimon had to pause before continuing, not just because he was worrying how Ophis would react to what was said next.

'...I do not believe anyone could have stopped what had been set in motion.'

Tactimon knew that destroying their world had been the correct action, only ruin would have followed had Bagramon not done so. He should feel relieved but he didn't. There was just emptiness inside him now.

Ophis was silent, mulling over what it had heard while Tactimon tried to gauge the millions of eyes' reaction.

'You refer to The red-black two-headed dragon, Zeed Millenniumon.' The Dragon God stated, making Tactimon once again wonder just how much had Ophis managed to glean from his memories.

Thankfully, he could only feel a faint feeling of disappointment being carried by the Ouroboros Dragon's words. It must have been quite unfortunate to learn there might have existed a new potential home for the Dragon God to roam, only to immediately hear it did not even exist anymore. He could empathize.

'Yes.'

With the mention of Zeed Millenniumon, one thing began to nag Tactimon. If he had been able to arrive in this new unknown world, barely evading it's jaws, couldn't the Beast of Apocalypse follow him here as well?

'That beast, will it be able to enter this world?' the soldier asked worriedly.

His master's last act had been just to raze the Digital World from existence, to ensure the Human World's influence couldn't twist and rot it any further. To have others directly suffer from their world's sins and failures would be… catastrophic, to say the least.

Ophis' eyes turned away from him, pupils shrinking into narrow strings as the Dragon gazed into the distance, seeing something no one else could.

'I have not sensed any more disturbances in the Dimensional Gap since your arrival.' The Dragon God's voice rumbled, their pupils returning to normal before adding, 'Should it somehow find its way here, Great Red would not allow it to enter.'

Ophis seemed very confident in her home invader's ability to protect this world, Tactimon noted. He wanted to believe this as well, and so decided to defer to the Dragon God's judgment.

This would be it for Tactimon, then. At least he could perish knowing there existed worlds that would have the opportunity to avoid the Digital World's downfall. The soldier hoped whatever creatures and beings living here would have the strength to persevere and overcome the wickedness of the heart, living their lives true to their beliefs as a true warrior should. While he was glad to be given a chance to learn there would be more opportunities for hopes and dreams to shine, the constant postponements of his death were starting to take their toll on him.

'Thank you, Ouroboros Dragon. Hearing that puts my mind at ease. If you do not have any more questions, I ask that you leave me be and allow this weary soul to finally lay rest,' Tactimon tried his best not to let the irritation mixed with the tiredness he was feeling seep into his words from extertion he had been putting through the conversation.

The Digimon sincerely hoped Ophis would grant him this last wish. Already was he hearing the eternal sleep start calling him. At this point, he was even ready to go so far as to part some of his knowledge in exchange for being finally allowed to pass away — nothing too confidential of course.

Still gazing in the distance, Ophis' eyes returned to stare at Tactimon, 'Pledge yourself to me Tactimon, and help me kill Great Red.'

'What?' Tactimon couldn't believe what he had just heard. The Dragon must have been jesting.

'What use would someone as mighty as you have from me? Surely I would only be in the way?' Tactimon's voice was laced with suspicion.

'In your memories, I saw you leading others to battle many times. You knew what steps to take to achieve victory, seldom did you know defeat. If you join me, I believe I believe you can be of great help against that dumb lizard'

Tactimon's instinctively straightened his back upon hearing this, and he could feel pride swelling inside him. For all his prowess with the blade, his true sharpness came from his mind. Wars were not won just by strength alone after all. No matter how powerful someone's kingdom is, if you can't lead your troops or know when and where to strike, you have no hope of winning. It was one of the bases of warfare and Tactimon was pleased Ophis had recognized where his merits were, even if the Dragon had learned it by reading his mind.

'From my first to the last breath, I proudly served my master to the end, for he was everything I could wish for. I was content after knowing I fulfilled my duty and readily embraced death. To ask this old soldier to rise from his grave and pick up his sword once more… What would this entail?' Tactimon asked while staring at the sea of eyes.

'I have others who serve me. I lend them my power and in return, they scour the worlds, searching for ways to end Great Read. You will have the same accord: I give back your life and you will seek out how to dispose that annoying Dragon from the Dimensional Gap.'

Those terms left quite a leeway. It sounded too good to be true for Tactimon.

'That is quite a generous offer, Ophis. You seem to hold a lot of faith in someone who you've just met.'

'Why should I doubt you to not hold your end, Tactimon?'

The Dragon God had him there.

'And if I were to decline?' Tactimon boldly asked.

This was the moment of truth, to see what were Ophis' true colors. Did the Dragon intend to force him to become her servant no matter what, or would it settle for ravaging his mind, sucking every bit of knowledge he held, and only then discarding him to face death?

'Then I will leave and let you face oblivion.'

There was no deceit in Ophis' words. During their conversation the Dragon had been blunt and outspoken, perhaps even a little harsh, but Tactimon hadn't felt he'd been lied to at any point.

Having finally realized what was being offered to him, with him having the final say, relief and excitement came at the same time to Tactimon. Right in front of him, stood a new chance and purpose, and

'Ha ha… Ha hah ha!!! Could this be the future you were speaking about, Shoutmon?' Tactimon couldn't contain his jubilation, and with this rare moment, he let himself laugh without a care in the world.

'You are a strange one, Tactimon.'

Ophis comment, cut his elation short. It seemed they didn't understand the significance of the matter. Sobering, Tactimon too took a serious stance.

'Before I give my answer, I have one request, Ouroboros Dragon. While my master has the full right to know me and use me the way they see best suited, there are things I would like to be kept between the two of us. I humbly ask for your understanding on this matter and a promise that you keep what you have learned from my memories only to yourself.'

Knowledge was power, and Tactimon wouldn't trust handing anyone else his. You never knew what weaknesses your opponents would learn from them.

'This I can do.' Ophis agreed almost instantaneously, seeing no problem with this.

'Much obliged, Ouroboros Dragon.' Tactimon's shoulders would've sagged in relief, should he been able to move.

With that out of the way, his answer was clear.

'I will accept your offer, Ophis. From this moment onward your will is my law. Until my body turns to ash, and the last bits of my data is ground to dust, I will devote my life serving you. This I, Tactimon, shall swear on my pride and honor to you, Ouroboros Dragon, Ophis, Dragon God born from Nothingness, the embodiment of Infinity.'

'Then take my snake Tactimon. It shall be the sign of our pact and will give you the power to return your strength.' As Ophis spoke, a small snake manifested right before him.

The serpent's black and oily body slithered lazily around, tasting the air. After smelling Tactimon, it shot towards his face wriggling inside him. Immediately, the Digimon could feel the snake's power seeping into him, and he welcomed the rejuvenating feeling. For Ophis, it was a drop of water given from the ocean, but for Tactimon, it was a flood that he had to be careful not to drown in, as he thirstily drank the essence, so exhilarating was the raw power that had suddenly surged inside him.

As his strength began to return, Tactimon noticed how the darkness surrounding him had started to give way to brightness, revealing blurry spots. As more light continued to seep in, the spots began to take shape and sharpen.

Soon a rocky and barren landscape greeted him. Looking up he could see a purple sky, mostly hidden by clouds that glided toward the distant horizon, Behind the clouds, he could see a sun as its beams peeked behind the grey curtain. Here and there tall, steep rock formations rose from the dryland, breaking the otherwise flat surface.

Realizing how blind he'd been to the world around him, Tactimon now understood how close he had been facing oblivion. Basking in the sun's warmth, he could feel the slight breeze make his cape and sash flutter. Who knew a barren landscape like this could be so beautiful. Inhaling, Tactimon was hit with an arid and earthly scent of a desert. Little by little, he was starting to remember what it meant to be alive.

Seeing movement in his peripheral vision, the soldier turned and was greeted by the sight of a small female, coming a little short of his chest.

The petite woman in question wore black shoes and a dark dress that was left open, revealing her white underwear. Her otherwise bare front was covered only by two scarves around her abdomen, belonging to a large purple bow on her back, along with some very modest coverings on her chest area. Lastly, she had a pink bow tied around her neck and a bonnet on top of her head, from which a black down-hair was growing till her hips. For being in such a revealing outfit, she showed no signs of embarrassment. Appearance-wise, she could have been easily mistaken for a human child, were she not sporting two pointed ears and almost lifeless black eyes unfitting for a girl of such age, which were staring Tactimon with the sharpness of millions.

While their form was different, the creepy aura the girl emitted belonged unmistakably to his new master. A moment of silence followed as Tactimon's faceplate stared back at Ophis' equally blank countenance.

'My master is a shape-shifter?' Tactimon wagered. That or he had possibly seen the Dragon God's true form while being half-dead, he wasn't certain.

Nevertheless, Tactimon would have preferred something more regal and less revealing for his master to wear. That was until the Digimon reminded himself his new master wasn't Bagramon, and The Dragon God could wear whatever she wanted, no matter what his opinions were on the matter. At least he now had an easier time looking at his master's eyes when addressing them. Or was it a her now? Tactimon would need to clarify this to avoid further confusion and potential mistakes when addressing Ophis.

''There was something linked to your soul. While the essence is separate, it bears your presence,'' Ophis said, having seemingly grown bored of their staring match.

Gone was the cascade of voices speaking as one. Ophis' new voice had taken a soft and light tone, making it more pleasant to hear, but the way his master spoke in a monotone made it seem like life was sucked out of it. It was jarring.

But it didn't matter what Ophis sounded like for Tactimon, be it a rumbling thunder or a whisper of a wind. The world would quiet when Ouroboros Dragon spoke, his master's mere presence commanding respect.
Ophis raised their slender arms in the air and dark data particles started to gather around their fingers, expanding into an elongated form that overshadowed the small humanoid Dragon, before taking shape.

A sharp inhale was heard from Tactimon.

A massive sword several times Ophis' height was held in their left hand, while in the right a scabbard was held which, while not as large as the blade, was still almost twice his master's height. For an outsider, the scene would have seemed bizarre: a small girl was holding a sword and a scabbard several times her size in the air with straight arms, as if she had found two interesting-looking sticks she wished to showcase to her parents.

The massive sword oozed malevolent energy, its blade one big bolt of lightning frozen in time, with a wide serrated form ready to cut anything that would come touching it. Circling the blade was a snake made of shadows, its eyes many, searching for its next prey.

It was his sword, Jatetsufūjin-maru, 'Snake Sealed in Iron by God'. A sword that was made using the data of an ancient weapon belonging to the God of Regeneration said to be able to bisect the Digital World in half. Imbued with tens and thousands of years of hatred and regrets left by fallen warrior Digimon, it was without a doubt Bagramon's greatest creation in Tactimon's opinion. Seeing it made the soldier realize how much he had been yearning to hold it again.

The snake noticed Ophis and made a round around her, letting out a hiss. Its forked tongue came finger-breadth away from the Dragon God's nose, before returning to circle the blade.

"Rude." Ophis said, still wearing the same stony expression.

The blade started to lose its shape, becoming a black shrinking mist to which the snake retreated. Unsheathing the blade, Ophis presented it to Tactimon, holding the scabbard horizontally.

Tactimon knelt, staring and waiting for Ophis to chain his sword once again inside its scabbard, yet the moment never came. He really should stop presuming Ophis was like Bagramon.

Seeing no more prompt them, Tactimon finally took the sword with both hands, enjoying how the familiar handle felt in his grasp. Having his other half back, he felt full, all the limbs had finally returned to the body. Holding his sword, Tactimon could feel the ever-raging storm settle down as it recognized who was holding it.

''What is your command, Your Highness?" Attaching his sword to his belt, the samurai addressed his new lord.

''I will take you now to my temporary lair.''

''Very well, Your Highness.''

''I am Ophis,'' The Dragon God said, tilting their head while watching him.

''Forgive my ignorance, great Ophis!'' Tactimon immediately apologized and bowed his head, still kneeling. He had barely started serving his new master, and already had he made a faux pas. How sloppy of him, he was supposed to be better than that!

''I forgive you.'' Ophis pardoned him, not seemingly minding his error to the latter's great relief.

Sensing now to be a good opportunity, Tactimon inquired further of how to address his master. ''My master, how should I refer to you in the future, seeing that you have taken a new form?''

His master somehow managed to give him an even more deadpan look.

''I, am Ophis.''

Perhaps it would be alright then to refer to his master as 'she' then. But calling his master just by her name felt way too personal to him.

''Of course, Ophis-sama.'' He nodded, sneaking the honorific after her name.

''Good. Let us go.'' Nodded, her hand clasping the hem of Tactimon's sash. The air around the Dragon God and her new servant started to vibrate before both disappeared, leaving the dryland deserted once more.

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

As the samurai's and the Dragon's surroundings changed, the dryland's warm and dry climate gave way to cool and stale air.

Tactimon was no stranger to teleportation. Having traveled through Zones in a variety of ways, be it through Zone Transfer via Digital Space or more magical means, his body had gotten so used to fast-traveling methods that the Digimon believed the potential side effects that might come with them were well past him.

He was proven to be wrong. Being transported by Ophis had managed to make his insides lurch, but luckily, he managed to hide it well, only needing to take one steadying step as they materialized. His master on the meanwhile showed no signs of discomfort. Should he have a choice, Tactimon would keep magical transference with her to a minimum and use alternate forms of travel.

Forcing the feeling of nausea down, Tactimon could see they had arrived inside a massive chamber in what he presumed was her base of operations.

Having his whole life revolved around warfare, seeing military bases and outposts teeming with troops was a sight he expected to see, were it to be training on the fields outside or readying themselves to be led to different fronts. To witness messengers running in a hurry through the corridors with urgent news to the command, guards making their rounds and personnel unloading food and medicine to be stored and used, it all meant the base was alive and operational.

Tactimon could find none of it here, the place reminding more of a grave, with just him and his master being the only occupiers.

''Follow me.'' Wasting no time, Ophis started walking, her footsteps making no sound.

Soon Tactimon's boots could be heard trailing behind her, their echo making him feel like he was in a spotlight and constantly watched, even when there was no one here.

The chamber they had arrived in was a masterpiece of engineering. The circular metallic-blue concave roof was supported by curved pylons that hugged the walls, keeping the azure sky up. On the smooth dry-stone walls made of giant slabs of obsidian, ingrained hieroglyphs emblazoned with gold glimmered as they passed them and Tactimon could feel powerful unknown magic radiating from the foreign symbols. Otherwise, the place seemed spartan. No monuments or statues showing the previous rulers' great exploits and accomplishments were greeting them and no fine fabrics with insignia's telling what kingdom this place belonged to decorated the walls or floors. Only evenly spaced floating lanterns were giving light to the windowless space, their blue fire and dim shine leaving dancing shadows on the many corners. Curiously enough, while the place seemed abandoned, there was no dust to be found on the floor.

''What exactly is this place, Ophis-sama?'' Tactimon asked his new master.

''This palace was built by an unknown dynasty located in one of the many forgotten realms. It has been abandoned for eons, but the magic lingering here is preserving the structures from the ravages of time. It also makes it a little less noisy. I mostly reside here, waiting for the death of Great Red,'' Ophis explained.

''Is there anyone else here besides us?'' Tactimon inquired while walking at a slower pace — one of his steps took two of Ophis'.

''Inside, no. There are people outside the complex keeping watch and making sure no one comes here unexpectedly. This palace works as a neutral meeting ground between the different groups working for me. People are only allowed here when I summon them or have something important they wish to discuss, such as requiring my snakes.''

That was an interesting tidbit of information to Tactimon. Many questions were plaguing his mind but he held his tongue for now, the time to ask them would come.

Beyond the chambers stood a pair of thick metal doors which Ophis pushed open with ease. The doors faintly creaked in protest, revealing a corridor that led to a stone staircase with high steps Tactimon estimated to be around 50 meters in height.

After the climb, the two continued without a pause and exited yet another entrance that had similar metal doors, this time left open, and entered a moderate-sized throne room.

In the center of the room was a seat befitting that of a great ruler on a raised platform, all made from one giant slab of the same obsidian as the walls. The black stone had been masterfully carved and polished, absorbing the meager illumination that the blue lanterns provided. Steps lead from the stone's foot onto the raised level where the throne's seating was, the massive carving's oversized and stylized back seat almost touching the ceiling, leaving a long descending shadow behind it.

Ascending the steps, Ophis sat on the throne and lowered her hands on the armrests. Her legs had to be pointed straight, for the throne's seating was too big to allow her to bend them.

Seeing his master take her rightful place, Tactimon knelt and waited attentively.

''I will tell you now about the organization that I am leading, the Khaos Brigade.'' Ophis announced while Tactimon prepared to take mental notes.

Letting an 'ehem' sound against her balled fist to imitate clearing ones throat, Ophis began.

''Khaos Brigade is composed of different supernatural factions, loosely working together. The Brigade was created by people dissatisfied with the current status quo the world currently is in. Before I became their leader, Khaos Brigades' main goal was to oppose the warming of relations between the three Biblical Factions, which have been in a frozen conflict for hundreds of years.

Not long ago, I was contacted by members of the Khaos Brigade, who asked me to become their leader. A pact was struck between us, the same which you and I have.''

'In which you would gift them your power in exchange for finding the means to dispose of Great Red from the Dimensional Gap,' Tactimon dutifully recited in his head.

Ophis continued unabated. ''The largest group is comprised of Devils from the True Satan faction who support their old government. They lost a civil war a few hundred years ago and were driven to the outskirts of the Underworld. They are being led by three of the four descendants of the original Satans who ruled over their Devil kin.

The second is Nirlem, a faction of wizards and witches. They have a ruling council from which chosen representatives contact me.

The last big group is the Hero Faction. They are humans, many of whom are descendants of mythological heroes and possess magical artifacts in their souls. They are led by a human named Cao Cao.''

At the mention of humans, Tactimon's glowed fingers twitched.

''Those are the three main factions that make up the Khaos Brigade. There are other, smaller groups, who are working with us, but they rarely come here,'' Ophis concluded her speech and took a small breath for the first time since she started talking, seemingly satisfied with her explanation.

Alarm bells were ringing inside Tactimon, Ophis' revelations having confirmed his fears.

Neutral meeting ground, people keeping watch. It seemed that the groups working for Ophis were even less united than he had initially assumed, and the more he went over what had been said to him, the more his masters' lair started to seem like a prison: a remote and secure place where she would be kept, unaware of her underling's doings, being only contacted when they needed her.

''Have they found anything worthy of your notice, Ophis-sama?'' Tactimon asked, his voice neutral.

''Nothing that would harm Great Red.''

'Why am I not surprised?' he cynically thought.

''I see. If it's not too much to ask of you Ophis-sama, since I'm a stranger to this world, could you educate me on how the Khaos Brigade as an organization operates in finer detail and tell me more about its members? This, I believe, would help me greatly in getting up to speed on what I need to do. If possible, that is.'' Tactimon's hunched frame had come close to hugging the floor voicing his request.

''I shall,'' Ophis simply stated.

The following hour comprised of Tactimon listening as Ophis told him more about the Khaos Brigade, speaking only when he wished to have something clarified from her succinct explanation.

Much of it was what he had deduced: every faction worked mostly by themself and rarely collaborated, their ideologies seemed to be too conflicting to form anything but alliances of convenience, something he could use to his advantage in the future.

He also came to learn the names and some general descriptions of the powers and abilities the faction leaders possessed, like the Devils using the power of imagination to cast magic instead of needing to calculate the spell's formula. The biggest pieces of information were that many members of Nirlem were former expelled associates of the Magician's Council — a worldwide organization representing and governing magicians —, outlaws, or both, and the Devils from the True Satan faction believed it was their birthright to rule the world.

While all this was appreciated, it was the finer details Tactimon wished to know Ophis lacked. There had to be quite an interesting dynamic going on between the groups since the Khaos Brigade hadn't already fallen apart. No doubt chicanery, conspiring, and back-stapping were taking place between the factions and it brought no satisfaction to Tactimon knowing he would become part of it. He was a general, his home was on the battlefield or in a war room planning and preparing. Interpersonal affairs had been Lilithmon's specialty.

In conclusion, these were people Tactimon would trust only as far as he could see them, if even that.

It was obvious that Khaos Brigade had sought out Ophis only because of the power she possessed, as the Ouroboros Dragon becoming Khaos Brigade's 'leader' was a great boon for its members without a doubt, helping them drive their true goals. How convenient for them to just have a Dragon of unimaginable power at their disposal, to whom they could always ask for more power like Her Highness was just a well to be bailed, a simple object.

Just thinking about it made him sick.

But here came the problem: Tactimon was a newcomer and had nothing concrete to back up his suspicions. The Digimon only had his intuition, and it wouldn't be enough for evidence. To voice his thoughts here and now would mean the samurai questioned his master's ruling and it could also put Ophis and potentially this whole organization of hers in a precarious position, should the other members get the wind of it.

No, If he wanted to get to the bottom of this, he would need to dig deep and be sure his suspicions were absolutely correct before making his move.

While it was not an ideal situation, in a war, there seldom was. He would overcome these obstacles and make sure his master's wish would come to fruition, even if he had to do it solely by himself. To his small relief, Ophis least did expect to have some reason why she would share additional power with her subjects.

Another welcomed news was he wouldn't need to be overly worried about how he would fare in this new word, as Ophis and Great Red were the only outliers here. When Tactimon had asked how he would compare to other Khaos Brigade members, his master had plainly commented, ''You are a bit stronger than the others.''

How much 'a bit' meant for the Dragon God of Infinity was anyone's guess.

To his mild surprise, there was one thing the disjointed sects had wholly agreed on with Ophis' approval. To ensure Khaos Brigade's 'integrity' and 'stability', when a new individual or group wishes to become a part of the organization, every leader would be informed as soon as possible. It seemed they wanted to ensure no outsider would get their dirty hands on their prized figurehead, something Tactimon agreed on, even if the rule worked against him this time.

When asked about this, Ophis told Tactimon that she would notify the others of his recruitment today, meaning his time under the radar would be very limited.

Grateful for her consultation on the subjects, Tactimon then asked what the Ouroboros Dragon knew of Great Red.

''He's a Dragon born from Dreams and Illusions and is strong.'' Was her plain answer.

''Do you believe it might have been an elaborate act on Great Red's part to have you find me, Ophis-sama?'' Tactimon inquired further.

''No. Great Red is dumb and doesn't plan. He only likes to fly and make noise in the Dimensional Gap. He just found you annoying and didn't want you in there.'' Ophis seemed to be speaking from experience.

''I see, thank you, Ophis-sama. I believe I should finally take my leave so I can start fulfilling my duty. Are there any private libraries or other places of study where I could go and learn about this world unperturbed?'' Tactimon had refrained from asking too much about subjects not concerning the Khaos Brigade. He wouldn't want to waste Ophis time explaining things he could easily learn himself.

Ophis index finger pointed toward the left wall, ''There is an abandoned outpost at the edge of this world that no one knows about. I can bring everything you need there and no one will disturb you.''

''I couldn't possibly ask something like that from you Ophis-sama.'' Tactimon hastily replied. He had already bothered her enough with his questions.

''I, insist,'' Ophis' continuous plank face and her flat tone made it impossible for Tactimon to tell what she was thinking.

''Then I'll be in your care. Thank you.'' Tactimon humbly accepted, his head touching the floor for a long moment before returning to the simple kneeling.

Rising from her throne Ophis, descended and came to a halt before Tactimon, their eyes level. Slowly, she reached out with her hand, taking hold of the spike in his shoulder plate and soon the samurai could feel the air starting to vibrate around them.

Realizing what was about to happen, Tactimon quickly braced himself before he and Ophis disappeared.

---

This time the teleportation hadn't made his insides lurch nearly as much, Tactimon had noted.

Currently, he was standing at the edge of the impossibly wide chasm and peered down at the dark. From where he stood, the land abruptly stopped, and a steep and deep abyss took place. He was not able to see the other side of the fall, perhaps there did not even exist one.

''Edge of the world indeed,'' he finally muttered and turned around.

Tactimon's boots crunched in the snow as he walked away from the pit and glanced again at the weathered outpost Ophis had brought him to. It was a single tower and a building surrounded by a stone wall, its sole entrance being blocked by a sturdy metal gate. The small complex was built at the end of a valley where a steep mountain range ended.

A good defensive position in his opinion.

Following their teleportation, Ophis had said she would go and get all the necessary materials for him. This had left Tactimon some time alone which the samurai used to inspect the outpost from potential traps and listening devices, mundane or magical, just in case. Nothing was found and he satisfiedly noted that some sort of magic was keeping coldness and moisture out of the stone building. After that, he had gone to survey the outpost's perimeter starting with the huge ravine from which he now continued toward a small forest where evergreens grew.

A lone rising moon shone in the starry night sky, its silver light illuminating the snowy terrain as Tactimon made his way past the trees. Being left alone allowed him to finally catch up with the strange state of affairs that had become his life.

Ophis. A peculiar dragon for sure. She was ancient and seemed to know a great deal about the world, yet talking with her made her seem… not simpleminded — he wouldn't dare to associate his master with the word and would cut the heads of whoever would say so of the Ouroboros Dragon. More suited word would be naïve-like. While it brought no joy thinking about such things of his master, Tactimon had to acknowledge that she seemed to be susceptible to others' influence.

Too susceptible.

Was that just a part of being a primordial being or something else, he didn't know. All the samurai could do was make sure no one would exploit his master any further.

Tactimon stopped and snow started to fall from the sky, slowly dyeing his cape white.

What was it that made him strike a pact with her? His decision was rushed, made on a scant amount of information. The short time he had known the dragon was nowhere adequate to form a full picture of her character, even if Tactimon had a hunch she would be a fair master. It was atypical of him so why did he do it?

Bagramon, Lilithmon, Blastmon… Tactimon was painfully aware everyone he knew and cared about had perished. So what was there left for him exactly?

A certain red Digimon's words came to his mind once again as he recited the words.

''A future where even a stubborn soul like me can laugh freely…''

It must have been that dragon Shoutmon and that dream of his that spurred him to choose this path, he reasoned. Tactimon wanted to scoff at the idea, but the longer he thought about it the more he was drawn to it.

'Very well then, Shoutmon,' Tactimon finally concurred. He would continue to live and serve his new master to find out if a future like that could be achieved or not here. To see if the people of this world had it in their hearts to overcome the dark. He would do it in honor of all the Digimon who had given their life to try and see that future happen.

A twig snapped in the distance, interrupting Tactimon's monologue. Turning towards where the noise had come from, he watched for movement before making his way.

He would dwell more on these matters later when he had time. For now, perimeters need to be secured.

The culprit had been soon found: a growing snow pile on one of the tree's boughs had reached a critical mass and broken off a branch.

The rest of his sweep had been made in silence, Tactimon deciding to enjoy the moonlight rather than thinking about gloomy topics. Nothing out of the ordinary was found after which he returned to the outpost.

After what he had estimated to be a half hour had passed, Ophis returned, announcing her arrival with her typical short and to-the-point speech to which she received Tactimon's courteous greetings.

''I have returned.''

''Welcome back, Ophis. I hope your journey was a pleasant one.''

''It was noisy.''

With that, Ophis pointed her index finger forward like a finger gun. Suddenly, the indoors were filled with a puff of smoke followed by bookshelves, desks, chairs, and many more objects, followed by a slam and a tremor that shook the whole building when the wooden furniture hit the ground. Thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken by the collision, Tactimon noted, as he made a quick sweep with his eyes.

In the blink of an eye, the small building had been filled to the brim. Bookshelves stacked on top of each other almost reaching the ceiling, leaving only small alleys to move through the impromptu study hall. Tactimon even spotted a computer on a far-away table as he looked around.

One of the advantages Digimon had compared to humans was that they weren't shackled by language barriers. Their race could easily understand what was spoken to them and vice versa, just like the Devils and Angels of this world with their Language ability, as Tactimon had come to learn from Ophis. The same could not be said about the written word and many denizens of the Digital Word had been illiterate. Tactimon himself could read Digimoji without a problem and while having never stepped foot in the Human World, he had educated himself to be proficient in some of the most common languages humans wrote, courtesy of his late master.

Inspecting the book covers, he could see some were in English, Chinese, German, and Japanese but the majority were written in languages and texts unknown to him.

Ophis walked next to Tactimon, holding out an ornate lorgnette she had pulled from nowhere.

''This can translate most written languages,'' the Ouroboros Dragon explained as she held out the glasses.

''I am forever in your debt, Ophis,'' Thanking her for the trouble she had gone for him, Tactimon took her offering and held the lorgnettes before his eyes, the foreign words making sense now.

'How useful,' Tactimon pleasantly noted.

''Will this be enough?'' Ophis asked her servant who in turn put the lorgnettes away.

''Yes, this is more than I could have asked for. I believe that what you have brought here will provide me plenty of useful information to go through.''

''How much time do you need?''

Looking out of a window that managed to peek behind a bookshelf, Tactimon saw the silver moon had moved a little past its zenith. By estimating how much time had passed for the celestial body to move from its initial position he had seen it when Ophis brought him here to its current one, along with some additional calculations, Tactimon concluded that the day cycle here was about the same length as most of the Zone's he had been to.

''Six days. Give me six days and on the seventh, when the moon is at its highest, you shall have the beginning of the foundation that will bring Great Red down.''

''I'll be waiting,'' Ophis said as she turned to leave before adding, ''If you need me, call my name.''

Air vibrated around the Ouroboros Dragon before she disappeared, leaving Tactimon alone with a treasure trove of knowledge. Taking a row of books from a shelf, he walked toward an empty desk and where lowered his burden. His mission had finally started.

'To whomever these once belonged I wonder?'

Not wasting time, Tactimon opened the first book, eager to get his work started.

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

''…Ganges riverbed flows from the highest planet down to the Universe's lowest. Seers descend from Satyaloka by using the river's flowing waters, the most common form of travel used by the mystic-yogis...''

The audiobook narrator's double-speed voice coming from a computer was accompanied by constant rustling as Tactimon flipped pages in swift succession. Occasionally, he released one of his hands from the two books he had immersed himself with to write down annotations on vellum, later to be placed on top of a slowly rising paper pile on his study desk. Said pile was now reaching his shoulder height, a fifth in line to be more exact.

Resting on Tactimon's head were the lorgnettes Ophis had endowed him. The glass' ability to translate virtually any text had been an invaluable aid in speeding up his work of understanding the myriad of writings, from old codexes to even older clay tablets Ophis had brought. What would have taken years of work to translate could be achieved in an instant, something he was intensely grateful for.

The lorgnettes in question were taped to Tactimon's helmet (he had found a tape roll inside one of the bureaus) to keep them in place and to free both his hands. While the usage of tape was in poor taste, he hadn't found anything better, and so Tactimon had to settle for what was available. He, of course, would get a proper chain to replace the improvised bindings the moment he had the time.

While Tactimon's days mostly consisted of doing research, the Digimon would put the books aside from time to time and go outside to ensure no one had ventured near his temporal hide-out. Doing these patrols at irregular intervals made sure his sweeps could not be anticipated, should he be observed. A bit excessive perhaps, but in Tactimon's line of work, you could never be too careful. Ophis had done well in choosing this place, as he had yet to see anything that warranted his attention. Even the animals seemed to avoid this place, if any even lived in this world.

Tactimon could have eased his burden and used his sword, Jatetsufujin-maru, to summon spirits of deceased warrior Digimon dwelling inside the weapon to work as sentries. The undead would easily cover more ground than himself, letting the samurai just focus on his research, but he had intentionally withheld from doing so. Without a seal limiting his sword's power, Tactimon was very much aware of how the blade was whispering its sweet and alluring ideas to him. It was easy to ignore at first, but the constant suggestion to pull the blade out from the scabbard, and find someone worthy whom against they could experience the rush of battle once more started to hinder his work.

Just he and his sword against whatever the world would throw against them, nothing else would matter. How the blades would clash and blood be spilled as both the soul and body focused on the dance between life and death, where one's journey continued at the expense of the other… Tactimon could feel his pulse quickening and realized what was happening again.

'Patience, my friend. There will come a time to reveal our savageness, but it is not now.' Tactimon reassured his other half. He could feel his precious blade grumble in dissatisfaction before growing silent, for a while at least.

To find someone worthy to test their might against was tempting indeed, but much as his heart longed for a fight, Tactimon's duty to his master far outweighed his desire to draw blood. One of the first things he did after Ophis left was to dismiss Jatetsufujin-maru to its incorporeal form, making the sword's influence less prevalent so he could concentrate. No, it was better to let the beast slumber, Tactimon had decided. He could manage guarding this place just fine by himself.

For the past four days, this has been his routine: read, patrol, and try to appease his sword. No time was spent on eating or sleeping, for a perfect soldier didn't need such things to operate. At most, an hour of meditation to let his mind recover from studying all day would have sufficed, but because time was limited, Tactimon could not afford this if he wanted to have everything ready when Ophis arrived.

Let it be known that Tactimon was nothing if not resourceful; having a seemingly impossible task on a tight schedule was nothing new to him. To make the most of the time he had, Tactimon's split his focus, with each part of his mind dedicated to a different task. Two parts of him focused on reading a book each, one was listening to documentaries played by the computer, another was sorting out what he had learned, while yet another focused on writing down useful information, and lastly, one part of him was recuperating from all of this.

By periodically rotating these assigned tasks, he could ensure every part of his mind would get enough rest so his mind would continue to work optimally. Managing less than this would have been unbecoming of Bagramon's best Head Officer and Tactimon would hold himself to the same standards for Ophis.

Even when patrolling, Tactimon did not stop, his brain analyzing and weaving plans from what he had learned from the library.

While splitting his focus allowed the samurai to work longer and even more efficiently than he usually could, the technique was not without its flaws. Allowing only parts of his mind to breathe did not replace the need for proper rest, only postponing it. Should he work too long like this there was a danger of overexerting his brain, forcing it to shut down. Thankfully, Tactimon had estimated he could continue multitasking at this pace for another few days which was more than enough for him to get everything needed done.

Getting to the last page of the book, Tactimon threw the thick work behind him, not sparing a glance. The fifth volume of The Native American Gods and their Legends landed upright on a bookshelf, filling a gap just its size left on the shelf. In his calculations, Tactimon would need to move to the upper shelf, meaning he would have to aim a little higher next time.

Opening the next book, How to Barter with Gods - from Roman Augurs to the Northern Noadis, Tactimon dipped his pen in inc, writing a few more notes in Digimoji and continued his reading.

Should someone try and read his writing with a translator, they would only see random words with no meaning, as Tactimon was using one of the code languages he had personally developed for his troops in the Bagra Army. You could never be too careful after all, the translating lorgnettes he was wearing were proof of that.

Submerging back into his work, the samurai started to go over what he had already learned.

One of the first things he had wanted to know was if Digimon too existed in this world, just to be sure. Not having found any mention of his species after going over half the library already was quite telling, as it was unlikely their presence would have gone unnoticed here. Adding Ophis' previous statement of him not being of this world, it seemed he was truly the last of his kind.

In the place of Digimon, myriad of other kinds of Gods and monsters walked on the many realms existing here. Interestingly, many of these beings bore a surprising resemblance to Digital World's inhabitants, many even sharing similar names. It was almost like he was back home.

Almost, Tactimon reminded himself.

On the surface, it would certainly seem like he had arrived at a world just like his, but the illusion was quickly shattered the more he got into finer details. In the end, the resemblance was just that, a resemblance.

And yet he couldn't help but sense some sort of an underlying connection between his old world and this one.

The most apt way Tactimon could explain this was the time he was securing Art Zone's Code Crown for his lord. After taking over the capital, the samurai had started his search, and had come across a row of paintings on one of the abandoned buildings, depicting some local legend. While every painting portrayed the same general scene, they all managed to look unique, with every painter having used a different style in their work.

'Our worlds, similar yet different,' Tactimon mused, remembering Ophis' words.

The reason for these weird coincidences, he believed, had to do with one thing that was constant in both universes: humans.

While researching, Tactimon had learned that many Gods and their belief systems in this world relied on humanity's faith with some scholars having even published works claiming that it was the human imagination that had first birthed the mythological figures into existence. Perhaps here too, humans carried the power in their hearts to affect and influence other beings than just themselves.

Tactimon knew humans had the potential to overcome many hardships, even succeeding where Digimon could not. He had seen this with his own eyes, and even old records spoke of human children of past who had left their marks on Digital World. Humans, for all their fragility, had the potential to produce miracles.

But as far as he knew, these acts could only be achieved because of the bond humans and Digimon shared, where the two sides complimented each other.

The difference here was, unlike in his old world, that the chosen humans here seemed to have actualized their latent abilities differently. Here they wielded powerful weapons, could cast magic, and command the forces of nature by training, special bloodlines, or just by plain luck. The sheer difference in numbers and variety of individuals with these supernatural abilities had given him a pause, even when he had expected something like this from Ophis' short explanation before.

Just imagining facing one of those human heroes he had read about made the samurai giddy.

'If Hero Faction is filled with warriors like these—' Tactimon cut himself before any more consideration could be given to the idea and focused back on the two books in his hands, ignoring Jatetsufujin-maru's alluring whispers of glorious combat, the sword having sensed its owner's feelings.

He really needed to do something about his sword.

Going back on the matter, perhaps the most notable proof of the still existing human potential here was the Sacred Gears, miracles that the God of the Bible had created for humanity. These Gears reacted directly to the wishes and desires of their holder, evolving according to their will. Should the holder's will be strong enough, their Sacred Gear could even achieve a state called 'Balance Break', a form that had the potential to break the balance of power in the world, the most powerful of them capable to slay Gods, or so the texts he had read said.

Evolving by just strongly wishing for it. Just like the Digimon could once in time.

'Oh Your Highness, if only you could have seen this,' Tactimon sighed.

Here he was, the last vestige of a dead and hopeless world. A stain left to remind of a hopeless future, somehow given a second chance to see if this fate could be avoided.

Having enough of feeling blue, Tactimon focused back on the primary target of his investigation: Great Red, the Dragon of Apocalypse, True Red Dragon God Emperor, Dragon Of Dragons, and the countless other monikers given to the creature mentioned in the Book of Revelation.

He had found surprisingly little information about the Dragon, considering every mythological faction seemingly knew of its existence, as it was common enough knowledge in the supernatural world that it, or he, as many referred the Dragon, was considered the strongest being in existence.

Most historical texts had only a passing mention of Great Red's invasion of the Dimensional Gap, it happening in the ancient days when the Gods were young and worlds were beginning to emerge. With the Dragon staying in the world between worlds to this day, Great Red was rarely sighted, most of the records coming from a God or another Dragon who had challenged it to a fight. In every encounter, Great Red had ignored the other party, content on just flying in the Dimensional Gap, even the one time a deity had directly attacked it.

This last incident had finally spurred most leaders of mythologies into action, forbidding their members from antagonizing Great Red for fear of the dragon's wrath finally falling on them and the possible cataclysmic consequences that would follow. It was the first time in history the different pantheons had come to an agreement, even if an unofficial one. To this day, the unspoken rule was enforced, and Great Red has enjoyed its life in the Dimensional Gap undisturbed.

It seemed Ophis had been handed the short end if the only people to even humor her attempts to kill the Dragon of Dragons were the Khaos Brigade members. This would also make his mission more complicated, as there would not be many who would be ready to help him on this endeavor, up-front at least. All of this would also paint a big target on his back, just like Ophis undoubtedly had, meaning he would have to use discretion.

''Great Red, dragon born from Dreams and Illusions…'' Tactimon muttered, deep in thought.

In his old life, Tactimon and his former master, Bagramon, had had many enlightening conversations, with his lord always having some piece of wisdom to be shared. On more than one occasion, the two had discussed the nature of hopes and dreams, from which Tactimon still vividly remembered Bagramon's words: ''There are two kinds of dreams, Tactimon. The ones we see in the night, and the ones we carry in our hearts. Both are equally important. Lose one, and you lose the other.''

What would happen should the epitome of Dream be somehow slain? Gods here were living embodiments of concepts, responsible for managing the many worlds, their deaths or prolonged absences known to have great consequences. If Great Red was killed, would this world become similar to the Digital World? A place bereft of imagination and hope, where dreams no longer existed?

Tactimon didn't want to find out the answer.

He was honor-bound to his Ophis and he would see to it that her home was freed once and for all. But… perhaps it didn't need to end in the Dragon of Dragon's demise.

Ophis' exact wording for him had been 'dispose Great Red from the Dimensional Gap'. To achieve this objective, he only needed to remove the dragon from the void world and ensure it could no longer pose a threat to Ophis. This might not follow the spirit of their contract, and Tactimon knew he was toying the line, but he also wasn't disobeying her order, he reasoned. Perhaps, when the time was right, he would broach the subject with her.

But that was for the future. He could plan and prepare all he wanted in this hideout, but if he wanted things to move forward, he would also need to act. For all his ingenuity and power, he was but one Digimon and could not be everywhere at once.

In his previous life, there had been no shortage of evil Digimon willing to wreak death and havoc in the name of the Bagra Empire. Their army's ranks were additionally bolstered by countless Troopmon and other artificially made Digimon whom Bagramon had brought to life, eagerly following their master's order. Fear was what had kept the soldiers of Bagra Empire in line, and that had usually been enough. Few had dared to try and desert the army, with even fewer succeeding, while those who failed were made an example.

Now? The situation was different. Tactimon had no military apparatus to enforce order nor could he rely just on his might to cow others under his master's rule. People, competent and loyal, would be required if he wished to fulfill his duty.

Finding competent subordinates would not be a problem for him. No matter the world, there were always criminals, assassins, and other filth willing to do the dirty deed for the right amount payment or coercion. While not an approach Tactimon favored, people like that had their uses. The downside for these easily formed allegiances was they could as easily be broken, and he knew the cost.

Dorulumon, Tactimon's right-hand man and one of the most promising warriors he had met, and to whom he had foolishly placed his trust, had once leaked confidential information to the enemy and deserted. The betrayal had ruined Tactimon's perfect battle plan and cost him a victory, besmirching his almost immaculate battle record. Thinking about the incident still managed to leave a sour taste in the samurai's mouth after all those years.

He made a vow to not have the same repeated here.

Tactimon was doubtful if there would be many willingly join him, his cause could said to be near impossible to achieve. The samurai felt he didn't have the needed charisma or the wisdom his former master had. Yes, he could lie and deceive what were his intentions, but doing it all the time came with the risk of someone finding out the truth, bringing more trouble than it was worth.

'Did you face similar problems in your early days too, Xros Heart and Blue Fire?' Tactimon wondered.

If those two groups could grow from a handful of Digimon and humans to a well-functioning army capable of threatening the Bagra Empire in under a year, surely one of the Three Head Officers could achieve the same?

No, Tactimon would not allow himself to be outdone by them. They had already defeated him once, he wouldn't allow them the satisfaction of another victory, not even posthumous one!

Throwing a book behind him, Tactimon reached for the next work, his hand grasping empty. Looking to his left revealed the wooden desk's polished surface. It seemed he finished earlier than he initially estimated.

The library had provided him with a good general grasp of what to expect from this world, from history to economics and cultures, to more specific matters, supernatural and mundane. Turning toward the computer's screen he sped the video even more while starting to browse through the rest of the computer files. While the device didn't have an internet connection, the files it had made up for it.

''…if the river is thousands of kilometers long, a perfect yogi can instantly travel from one place to another simply by stepping in the flowing waters…'' continued the high-pitched voice of the narrator.

---

Throwing a piece of paper at his feet, Tactimon inspected how the talisman's inscription shimmered in dark violet, before erupting in flames and leaving a black spot on the melted snow. Seeing his attempt still not working as intended, the samurai started to make some additional changes to the formula.

Tactimon had never been good at a high-level programming language, or magic, as it was more commonly called here. This was not because he was bad at math, the samurai could quite effortlessly calculate and form the necessary formulas for the spells in his mind. The problems came when he tried to launch them. At most, the magic would try to pitifully sputter to life before dying, resulting in a puff of smoke.

'Even you can't excel in everything.' Tactimon reminded himself, his mood becoming sour. For the perfect soldier to botch casting even elementary-level spells… simply embarrassing.

Him and magic not mixing was an unfortunate side-effect due to Tactimon's nature, as Bagramon had explained to him once. It was also something Lilithmon would poke fun at when she couldn't come up with anything better in their petty disputes comparing how many Code Crowns each Head Officer had collected. He, of course, was always ahead of the other two. Fond memories, but he digressed.

While Tactimon had little to no talent for casting magic, it didn't mean he couldn't use it. Direct spell-casting, while not impossible, was very time-consuming to get right. Hence, one of the few things when it came to magic he could say to be competent was a simple teleportation spell. It had taken him many years to master, but it had been necessary; more than once it had allowed the samurai to step in time to assist his troops, or allow himself a quick retreat from an unfavorable battle — a flexibility the Zone Transfer method lacked.

To overcome his limitation, Tactimon used components as the spell's focus. Like the tanegashimas' on his back that drew their energy directly from him, he was now imbuing the vellums with his power to try and force the formula he had written on them to activate. The vellums themselves had special properties, used by many magicians and mystics with the same purpose as him. While the magic still didn't work as intended, he had made good progress compared to the initial unfortunate explosions of the first few batches. Normally, he wouldn't have needed to try his hand at spell crafting as Bagra Empire had Digimon designated for these kinds of duties, but as the samurai noted once again, these were not normal times and he would need to adapt.

Throwing another talisman, its writing started to glow, the dark purple color more prevalent than previously. After disappearing, the vellum reappeared a short distance away on a wooden board with a magic circle drawn on it.

'Finally, a success.' Tactimon silently celebrated as the world started to darken, the realms blue sun slowly disappearing behind the mountains.

'And not a moment too soon.' he nodded in satisfaction.

He would try experimenting a few more times, making final adjustments to ensure the formula worked perfectly. Seeing the fourth vellum appear on the magic circle in a row, Tactimon collected his equipment alongside the rest of the unused parchments and headed back inside. He was ready to go.

Leaving the outpost unguarded was risky, but he believed the rudimentary wards he had placed around the building would alert him, should an intruder decide to pay a visit. With the constant snowing, any tracks left by him had been long covered, further lowering the chances of someone discovering this place

He had a long debate about whether he should contact Ophis, not sure if it was proper to disturb his master with something so trivial as this. In the end, he decided not to. Ophis had not prohibited him from leaving the outpost and this was to do with the preparations of his plans. To ask her would be a waste of Ouroboros Dragon's time.

Tactimon left a note on inside explaining his temporal absence with a few of the talismans Ophis could write her message that would be magically appearing to him, should she come while he was away. A bit cumbersome form of communication compared to what he was used to, but he was made to do with what he had.

After getting everything ready, Tactimon stepped outside to the courtyard, focusing on activating the familiar teleportation spell. Feeling the magic take effect, his body was briefly engulfed in static before he started to fade away. With final flash of white noise, the samurai disappeared completely.

---

On the seventh day, Tactimon rested while giving the final touches to his plan. Sitting next to his annotations, the combined paper tower now as tall him, was a smaller one, only a couple dozens of pages. While going over the document for the nth time, he felt a familiar presence arrive outside the building.

None of his wards had been activated.

Taking the lorgnettes from his head, Tactimon placed the glasses down by the golden chain attached to them. Getting up from the oak desk, the samurai walked over to the entrance door and pushed it open, the door shoveling snow away in the process.

The silver moon shone high in the cloudless starry sky, its white light making the snowy landscape glimmer in return. In the past six days, it had gotten significantly colder.

Standing before Tactimon was Ophis in her scant clothing, indifferent to the biting cold, her two dull black eyes staring expectantly at him.

''Are you finished?'' A lone cloud of vapor was released from her mouth, the only indication he was talking with a living being, her pale skin not helping in the matter.

''Yes Ophis-sama, I have prepared everything ready for you. Please,'' Stepping aside from the door Tactimon beckoned her inside.

Ophis nodded and started to wade through the knee-high snow bank.

''Other leaders have been asking to see you.'' Ophis said as she reached the door.

''Is that so?'' Tactimon wasn't surprised at all.

''I told them you did not want to be disturbed.''

''Thank you Ophis-sama. However, I believe I will get acquainted with them soon enough.''

Getting inside the warm building, Tactimon followed Ophis and closed the door.

''I first want to express my deepest gratitude for lending me all these materials and texts. I have written down everything I need and am ready to return these to you. All the books are in the exact order you gave them.''

''You can keep them.''

Tactimon's first instinct was to refuse Ophis, as this was way too much for a simple servant like him. But before he could form an eloquent protest, she beat him as if sensing what he was about to say.

''You asked for books and information so you could kill Great Red.''

While she showed no emotion, Tactimon got a feeling Ophis would not budge on the matter. The only option left for the samurai was to bow deep.

''Thank you Ophis-sama. Your generosity truly knows no bounds.''

Hearing this, the Ouroboros Dragon tilted her head in puzzlement.

Rising back to his full height, Tactimon retrieved the small paper heap he had left on the desk, offering it to Ophis.

''Now then. I have prepared a presentation for you which is meant to explain my plan for ultimately freeing the Dimensional Gap. These notes will provide you with additional information.'' Saying this, Tactimon pulled out a blackboard behind one the the many bookshelves.

Gesturing behind his master, he continued. ''This will take a while, so if you prefer, I have prepared a seat for you.''

Turning around Ophis could see an armchair between a stack of books. Instead of sitting on the comfortable leather, she opted to hop on one of the book piles.

Deciding not to correct her on this, Tactimon continued. ''Now, if any questions come to your mind during the presentation, please do not hesitate to interrupt me, Ophis-sama. I will do my utmost best to answer each one of them.''

''I understand.'' Ophis said and started to stare at Tactimon with such intensity it was starting to make him uneasy.

Doing his best to ignore his master's soul-piercing gaze, Tactimon began to write on the chalkboard.

''I have given a lot of thought to how the Khaos Brigade's operations could be improved even further. After careful consideration, I believe two things need to be done that would greatly benefit your organization.''

''This will help me destroy Great Red?''

''Correct, Ophis-sama. First is the establishment of a new division, which I will be referring to as 'Ouroboros Division' for now. The second part pertains to the overall structure in which the Khaos Brigade operates… ''

Ophis attentively listened to Tactimon explaining, her aura subsiding. Alleviated, Tactimon continued going over the necessary steps needed to be taken to establish the groundwork for her new division. For the next hour or so, Ophis passively listened the presentation, mechanically turning over to the next page of the reference sheet when told there to be additional information. Otherwise, the dragon didn't moved an inch, being still as a stone statue. The only indication she was even listening was the blinking of her eyes, which happened exactly twice, as per Tactimon's count.

Tactimon had gone to great lengths to make the presentation as informative and easily followed as possible, but because Ophis showed no expressions, it was impossible to gauge what she thought of it. He once tried to prompt an opinion from her to which she answered 'I trust in your judgment on this,' not alleviating Tactimon's fret if the presentation was up to her standards.

''… and it is for these reasons I believe it would be beneficial for you if the other groups leaders are summoned to discuss more in detail concerning the matter. That is all.'' Tactimon finished, feeling oddly exhausted.

''I see. I will tell the other leaders to come to meet us in the base then.'' Ophis hopped off the stack of books and returned the sheet of papers to Tactimon.

''Thank you Ophis. I hope you found this worth your time.'' Tactimon's calm voice belied the restlessness inside him.

''I did.'' the Dragon said plainly.

While congratulations were going on inside Tactimon's head for a job well done, Ophis turned around, ready to leave.

''Should any questions or suggestions arise to you regarding the Ouroboros Division or other parts of the plan, I'm always ready to hear them, Ophis-sama.'' Tactimon urged, seeing she was about to disappear again.

''Mmhm.'' Was his master's reply.

Just when Ophis was about to teleport, her eyes caught the books she had been sitting on and stopped. Resting on the top of the pile was a dictionary. Inclining her head, she became deep in thought before marching over to it. Opening the thick tome, she started to flip through its pages, all the while Tactimon silently observed her, intrigued by this.

A few minutes passed before she turned back to face him, and Tactimon could swear he saw a flicker of something in Ophis' eyes.

''I, have a suggestion.''

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

''How is it going, Georg? We got about four minutes before we need to get moving.''

''That's more than enough time for me to finish deciphering these runes, Cao Cao.''

Averting his gaze away from the antique pocket watch he held, Cao Cao looked around the dimly lit hallway, where a few of the palace's signature floating lanterns shared their meager blue glow. As usual, they were the only ones in one here, in one of the numerous wings of the Khaos Brigade's 'headquarters'.

The leader of the Hero Faction wasn't a fan of this place, a sentiment shared with other members who had the privilege of stepping in the stronghold. The ancient stone complex made it feel like you were being constantly observed, judged even.

As if you weren't welcomed here.

Well, perhaps the feeling was appropriate considering the situation, Cao Cao had to admit, while tapping his spear on his shoulder and once again checking both ends of the hallway. Should others know about their little hobby here… well, let's just say things would get interesting.

Georg had hypothesized the reason for the feeling of paranoia was a simple side-effect left by the multitude of runes placed all over the stone walls, working in tandem. The spell's many effects lapped on each other, making some of the surplus energy created by this interfere with their senses on a subconscious level. It was more complicated than that of course, but when Georg had started to talk about theoretical magic equations fields, Cao Cao had become lost. As long as no mind-altering magic was at play here, the black-haired young man could bear the occasional visit.

What he did understand from Georg's commentary was that whoever had made these runes was very skilled in their field. The usage of teleportation, messaging, and scrying magic was impossible to do inside or near the palace, even electronics had a hard time working in here. The only way to enter or contact inside the complex was the old-fashioned way of using couriers.

While Ophis might have enjoyed how the wards made this place more silent for the Dragon, it was also a double-edged sword. While being cut out from the outside let the Hero Faction to conduct their business here securely, so could unfortunately the other factions.

''All done here. One more wall of runes decoded, who knows how many others to go.''

Looking away from the hallway, Cao Cao saw Georg rise back from kneeling and dismiss the variety of magic symbols hovering over his hands. The wizard had cast a ball of light to help him see better in the badly lit hallway, where the obsidian walls hungrily ate the illumination.

''Nice job Georg. Let's not let the others wait for us any longer, shall we? Wouldn't want to make a bad impression after all.'' Cao Cao said as he pocketed his watch and started to walk down the long hall, his comrade following.

'Even the echo here is terrible.' Cao Cao frowned as he listened how the walls reflected their footstep, somehow managing to make it sound ominous.

The wielder of the True Longinus didn't need to look at his second in command to know he too was feeling anxious, and not because of the building's atmosphere. Cao Cao didn't blame Georg, he was feeling the same way. He was just better at forcing the unpleasant feeling down.

Deciding to lighten the mood, Cao Cao struck up a conversation. ''Let me guess, it was another batch of structure-enhancing runes.''

''No. This time it was dust removing one.'' Georg looked back at him and managed to form a small smile.

''Seriously? I'm starting to wish we had some sort of explosive, poisonous gas trap spell hidden in there for even once.'' Cao Cao complained in a deadpan and shook his head. He wasn't really disappointed they had once again chosen wrong — there were thousands of runes from which they had to randomly search for the right ones.

Cao Cao could hear Georg scoff at his remark and saw his friend's shoulders relax a bit. It was good to see some of the anxiety leave the wizard's body as both of them needed to have their wits and clear heads for what was to come.

While this time they weren't lucky, every opportunity Georg got to decipher the runes made it a little bit easier for the wizard to discern which ones were unimportant and which ones weren't. Besides, they could always return to continue their little work another time.

If there was going to be another time, Cao Cao had to remind himself.

For the past week, things had been hectic for the Hero Faction, just like with everyone else in the Khaos Brigade. Ophis, unexpectedly and without consultation, had decided in her infinite wisdom to accept a new member join her league.

Indeed. Not a faction, not even a group, but a single individual.

The new member, this Tactimon as Ophis had told in her short message, was either a fool who believed he could somehow benefit and survive in the Khaos Brigade alone, or someone confident enough in his abilities to keep other factions from interfering with his business, in what was most likely in a fatal way.

After the reveal, Cao Cao's group wasted no time searching for information concerning Ophis' newest recruit. A lot of time and resources were spent on this task: libraries were scoured, databases checked, old and new favors asked from the multitude of connections they had, anything to get a clue on who this Tactimon truly was.

While their search was ongoing, Cao Cao went to question the Ouroboros Dragon directly, before Nilrem or the Devils did. The young hero had of course covered his true reason for their meeting as just wanting to inform Ophis about Hero Faction's progress in their anti-dragon weapon research. With a fabricated report describing their small headway and the need for more of her snakes to continue their hard work, Ophis had bought the whole thing. With the necessities out of the way, he had inquired about Tactimon, as if talking about Ophis newest recruit had been just an afterthought that had suddenly come to his mind.

Who was he?

What did he want?

What where his current whereabouts?

These and many more questions plagued Cao Cao's mind. He knew Ophis wouldn't tell much — the Dragon was as taciturn as it was creepy.

After asking the unsuspecting dragon about the mysterious new member, all Ophis was willing to tell was, 'I found him half-dead in Underworld's desert, where I sensed Great Red's presence. I asked him to serve me. He accepted, on the condition everything I know of him is to be kept to myself. Now he's searching on how to kill Great Red and doesn't want to be disturbed.' Returning from the palace, Cao Cao began to wait for their search results while trying to piece together what sort of an individual Tactimon was.

In the end, their search had yielded nothing. There was no one with the name of Tactimon existing. Cao Cao had of course expected this to be a possibility, using a cover name wasn't anything new to him. While the information he now had was not much to go by, it gave the young hero some clues about Tactimon's character.

Why did Ophis find him half-dead near where it had sensed Great Red? Was he a suicidal battle maniac who had wanted to fight the Dragon of Dreams, the latter deciding to give him a lesson, and Ophis arrived to see the aftermath? Very worrisome in so many aspects if true. Tactimon seemed to at least have the foresight to keep a tight leash on his personal information, perhaps his pride so broken he couldn't bear to let others know about his defeat?

For days, this and countless other scenarios occupied the his mind until Heracles had enough and literally pulled Cao Cao from his pondering, saying he was overthinking things. They would know when they would know, the group's brute had told him with a confident grin, before Cao Cao had been dropped back to the ground.

Cao Cao had to agree with Heracles. They would adjust their plans accordingly when more information was revealed. For now, the heroes of humanity would wait and see, letting the Devils and Nilrem do the tail-chasing.

Seven days had passed since Ophis' announcement and as things seemed to settle down, the Dragon had once again contacted them. This time she wanted every leader of the Brigade to come to the HQ and gave no reason as to why, only that they had twelve hours before the meeting would be held.

After Hero Faction had loosely joined with the Khaos Brigade, the times he had met some of the other faction's leadership could be counted on one hand and from those times, it was usually just Nilrem and the Old Satans. Most of the Brigade's groups were just allies of circumstances and wanted to spend as little time as possible with the others. For Ophis to demand every leader to come? That was unprecedented.

Cao Cao guessed this was Tactimon's doing. He had his suspicions as to why and none of them were good.

Hero Faction had been forced to make a hard choice then and there. After debating with his close circle of comrades on what to do, Cao Cao had come to a decision. Just like the Devils and Nilrem wouldn't be willing to give up the power the Dragon God was giving to them, neither were they. Not yet at least.

As for the other, smaller factions, should anyone decide to decline Ophis' direct order, it would be the same as leaving the Brigade, meaning they would be targeted without mercy as no loose ends were tolerated. There was no leaving the Khaos Brigade once you joined.

Cao Cao had to give it to Tactimon. He had played his cards right this time, either by accident or skill.

After their decision, Hero Faction started to prepare for the worst. As the time for the meeting drew near, Cao Cao took their heavy hitters with him to wait outside the palace grounds. Jeane, Heracles, Siegfried, Perseus, and many others who had joined his cause came with him, while a reinforcement group including the young Leonardo waited elsewhere to step in and assist if necessary.

Having arrived near the palace, Cao Cao had seen hundreds of Devils and Nilrem's magicians filling the area, as well as some other smaller groups, Fallen Angels being the largest of these. Their auras told him each one was a veteran fighter.

Tensions had been high as the forces surrounding the palace stared at each other. The ongoing winter weather paled in comparison to the cold glares exchanged as each side restlessly waited for whatever was about to happen. Just a small mishap and the powder keg would explode, breaking all hell loose.

Looking up from his pocket watch again, Cao Cao saw he and Georg had finally arrived inside the familiar chamber, its metallic-blue roof hanging high above them. Opposite, two metal doors stood open, telling them to enter.

They had three minutes before the meeting would start.

Cao Cao stopped, Georg, following suit.

''How're you feeling?'' he calmly asked and glanced at the wizard.

''Nervous, if I'm being honest.'' Georg confessed, adjusting his suit collar with one hand.

His friend was doing a good job hiding his anxiousness, Cao Cao had to admit.

''A little bit of nervousness is good, keeps the mind sharp. Just remember what we discussed. If things play right, this will be just another boring conversation with Ophis.'' he advised and began walking again.

''Yes. You're right.'' taking a calming breath, Georg followed.

While the wizard used a levitation spell, Cao Cao climbed the long and steep stairway by foot. The light exercise worked as a warm-up and helped the blood bump to his body. As his steady footsteps echoed, the young hero saw the final pair of open doors slowly approaching

Whatever would happen, he was ready. Hero Faction was ready.

Crossing the last pair of doors, Cao Cao entered the throne room first as the vanguard with Georg right behind him, ready to support if needed.

Inside, Cao Cao could immediately sense the change in the atmosphere. If the situation outside was cold, it was freezing here, the tension palpable.

The two continued further in, eyeing the other occupants. Everyone else had seemingly already arrived, many having arrived quite early no doubt, being their first time visiting palace. The small groups gave each other wide breath and the few who were conversing were using magic to not let their voices reach beyond and obscure their lips from being read.

Looking around, Cao Cao spotted a few humans belonging to Nilrem and other smaller magician groups. There were also three Fallen Angels and few other monsters, most of them low-level trash compared to him and Georg that could be easily dealt with. The only ones he would need to be cautious were the Satans' descendants and a person who was wrapped in old brown robes.

While no features could be seen, Cao Cao could tell they were a high-ranking Angel by the intensity of the holy aura surrounding them. Seeing Angel here surprised him as they must've taken quite a risk to come here all the way from Heaven.

Before the groups, sitting on the oversized obsidian throne that almost took one-third of the room was Ophis, radiating its creepy otherworldly aura, and who was currently… sleeping? Cao Cao wasn't sure. The Dragon God had its eyes closed, but it was hard to say anything when it came to it.

Since they were a full minute early, him and Georg could try and shift the setup a bit more in their favor.

On his left were two Nilrem's council members by the looks of it; a man and a woman, neither of which he was familiar with. Both wore long and dark ropes emblazoned with markings typical to Nilrem and only showed their lower faces. The two had cautious aura surrounding them, and when they saw Cao Cao, he could feel the glare under their hoods.

Was Nilrem still sour he had managed to get the possessor of the Longinus-class Sacred Gear, Dimensional Lost, to join the Hero Faction over them? Most definitely.

Speaking of Georg, he was no longer levitating in air and adjusted his glasses. The seemingly innocent gesture was in fact one of the many secret hand signs Hero Faction members used to communicate. Cao Cao easily deciphered the meaning — old acquaintances.

Georg's total and deliberate disregard of the Nilrem's magicians did not go unnoticed by them, but with the room full of faction leaders and the already volatile situation, the two morose council members couldn't risk to make a scene, only shooting daggers with their eyes.

This was even better than Cao Cao had hoped. Who knew it was such a small world? Proceed with the plan — Tapping his spear two times on his shoulder was a signal for Georg to continue bothering Nilrem's members.

His second-in-command wasn't here just to decipher runes and work as added security after all. Getting the other parties emotional and distracted would work in their favor, which wasn't going to be too hard either with everyone being so tense here.

Looking to his right where his own targets were, Cao Cao spotted the Devils in question standing a good distance away from the other groups. Their auras belonged to that of an Ultimate-Class and while both had a calm if reserved facade, it was clear neither of them enjoyed being here.

Katerea Leviathan, a bespectacled tan-skinned woman owning a voluptuous figure and bundled brown hair, and Creuserey Asmodeus, a handsome-looking man with fair skin and pointed ears, with long black hair tied behind his back. Both Devils had looks that rivaled most models and the extravagant form-fitting clothes the two wore further accentuated their attractiveness. Katerea's especially, whose outfit showed a fair bit of her tan skin, especially around her bosom.

You couldn't get more obvious with your intentions even if you tried, in Cao Cao's opinion. He didn't understand why the descendant of Leviathan even bothered dressing like that, only an idiot was going to fall for her 'charms' here. He knew Devils were deceitful creatures, known to use illusions to fool their prey. You shouldn't trust what you saw.

The two Devils' eyes met his own, contempt no even clearer in their eyes. A feeling Cao Cao wholeheartedly shared.

The stare was broken as he exaggeratedly tapped his spear on his shoulder, making the two Devils involuntarily flinch at the light movement of the ultimate holy weapon. Even in its dormant state, everyone could feel the spear's holy presence across the room.

Making another sweep with his eyes, he didn't spot Shalba Beelzebub anywhere.

'Damn. The Devils truly think this is going to get ugly if one them decided to abstain from the meeting.' Cao Cao's eyes narrowed in thought, before self-confidence quickly replaced his worry.

''Seems old Shalba didn't find it in himself to join us today. How unfortunate.'' Cao Cao spoke aloud, deciding to test the waters.

Creuserey's brows knitted when he saw the cocky smirk, but the Devil's composure held otherwise.

''Mind your own business, human.'' the descendant of Asmodeus seethed the last word before haughtily continuing. ''Stick your nose in other's businesses and you will find it along with your head swiftly removed. You would do well to learn some proper manners.''

''Hah! I'm all ears,'' Cao Cao ignored the jab and instead exaggeratedly scratched his earlobe while simultaneously staring directly into the pointy-eared Devil's eyes. ''Always happy to learn more about the ancient history of extinct civilizations.''

Creuserey, clearly not appreciating this, began gritting his teeth and his hands balled into fists — a sight Cao Cao greatly enjoyed.

Katerea decided then to step in. ''For someone acting so brazen, you sure took your time, Cao Cao. Why, it almost seems you were afraid to come here.''

''Nah, we just got lost. This palace is a labyrinth with all these turning and swirling corridors. You have to be really careful or you might end up lost here, permanently even.'' Cao Cao quipped back, fully aware how their conversation had now drawn most of the room's attention.

Creuserey's nostrils flared, ''You–!''

It was then that Ophis spoke, cutting short the Devil's outburst. ''Everyone has arrived. The meeting starts now.''

Humiliated, Creuserey was forced to swallow his pride and anger, dropping the subject, but the look he gave Cao Cao promised this incident wouldn't be forgotten.

After making sure the two Devils truly stayed on their spot, Cao Cao looked towards the throne, seeing the Ouroboros Dragon had eyes open. It was showtime now.

''With all due respect, Great Ophis, what is it that you need all of us here for?'' One of the Nilrem's magicians warily asked, wanting to cut to the case straight away.

An unknown voice speaking Japanese came behind them. ''Our master has summoned you here to discuss the future of Khaos Brigade.''

Cao Cao ignored the shouts of alarm. Faster than the eye could follow, he swirled around with the holy spear already in his hands, ready to strike.

A lone figure stood before them at the entrance.

'How long had they been there!?' Cao Cao thought in distress. He hadn't sensed their approach at all.

The towering person was head taller than him, clad in dark armor from head to toe. The air of discipline emanating from along with the royal blue cape and crimson sash he wore gave Cao Cao the impression of a military officer. Hanging behind his back, the young hero could spot three massive guns with barrels pointing down, before his eyes finally focused the samurai-esque helmet. The red flame markings inscribed on the armor and the glow behind the helmet's yellow lenses gave an allusion of a warrior who had come straight from purgatory. Those two eyes, cold and calculating, sized everyone in the room.

Cao Cao realized this must be Tactimon. He was not liking there was going to be another person whose expression he couldn't see. Even when the samurai wasn't emitting any hostile intent, his aura alone made sweat droplets form on his temple.

Despite his young age, Cao Cao had accumulated experience with the supernatural that rivaled even the most seasoned church's exorcists. Having slain Devils, Vampires, Dragons and other countless monsters, with him even fighting a few gods, Cao Cao knew what kind of dangerous and powerful monsters lurked in the shadows and preyed on humanity. With his experience, he believed to have a good estimate of what to expect from Tactimon, not even counting out the possibility they would be some sort of deity.

He had been partially correct in his assumptions. Tactimon was someone who clearly walked in the realm of gods. He had just underestimated how high.

While Ophis was the true monster among monsters, the Dragon was passive and indifferent toward most things, rarely acting. Unlike it, he got the impression that the being before him wouldn't be hesitant to demonstrate his power, should the need rise.

Staring at Tactimon, Cao Cao felt like he was back in China, where the young him had first encountered the Monkey King, feeling so small and insignificant before the youkai. His instincts were telling him to get as far away from Tactimon as possible, but he didn't let the primal fear dictate his actions. Instead, Cao Cao stayed put, ready to act at a moments notice and coldly analyzed Tactimon.

Tactimon, who didn't seem to be off-put by Cao Cao pointing at him with True Longinus's blade radiating with holy power, ignored the young hero and started walking towards the throne. The act got Cao Cao out of his stupor, finally lowering his spear.

It would no longer rest on his shoulder.

His eyes continued to follow Tactimon, never letting him out of sight. The ones who were in the samurai's way silently moved away, giving him a wide berth.

Only now did Cao Cao finally notice a giant sword on his belt. The weapon was bigger than Tactimon and was bound in its scabbard with a thick chain. The malicious aura surrounding the sword gave Cao Cao goosebumps and he felt his spear burn in his tight grip in response to the unholy weapon's presence. He wasn't sure which one he should be more worried about, the sword, or its owner.

Code red? – Cao Cao heard Georg scratch his neck next to him, having momentarily forgotten his second-in-command's presence.

He made a short inhale through his nose – Negative. That plan wouldn't work anymore, not when an opponent like that was here. Cao Cao was sure of it. The young hero pulled the hem of his uniform, seemingly straightening it – Continue the original plan.

With no way to contact the outside forces, they were at the complete mercy of the samurai, the throne room having become their prison. He just needed to make sure it wouldn't become his or Georg's execution ground as well.

Tactimon had finally reached the great obsidian throne. With the help of his hand, he swiveled his cape away from his legs and knelt.

''Thank you, Ophis-sama, for summoning us all here.''

Ophis in turn simply inclined her head as she watched the kneeling warrior. If Cao Cao didn't know any better, the Dragon seemed puzzled by the groveling display.

''You are Tactimon?'' One the Fallen Angels' serious voice broke the following tense silence.

Cao Cao scoffed, the answer was obvious. 'And here I thought having several hundreds years worth of experience would make you faster on the uptake.'

Ignoring the question, Tactimon rose, his movements measured and calm. Taking his place on the right side of the throne, the samurai's left hand came to rest on his sword's pommel before he turned to face the room's occupants.

''That is correct.'' Tactimon's voice was clear and audible, belonging to someone accustomed to giving orders. ''You have all shown your loyalty to our master by answering her summon. Unfortunately, it seems not everyone thinks as highly of the pact they've made with her. Those few groups who haven't complied with the Ouroboros Dragon's direct order to arrive here have shown their true colors and will be treated as traitors and eliminated on sight.''

Already, Cao Cao didn't like how Tactimon was talking like he was their boss. Not that he was going to voice his opinion.

Not waiting for a response, Tactimon continued. ''All of you are aware of how I joined the Khaos Brigade to help Ophis-sama in freeing the Dimensional Gap a week ago. After having conversed with our master, many interesting things have come to my attention, the main one being the disappointing lack of progress you've all had.''

So that was the reason Tactimon had him and the others come here, to discuss where were their promised solutions to Ophis. If it was just to talk, Cao Cao wasn't too worried about it. The Hero Faction had fabricated documents and other watertight proof to show they had seemingly been working in earnest on finding ways to help the Dragon. Originally, he had prepared these in case someone in the Brigade, mainly the Devils, tried to devise a plan to frame them as traitors.

Too bad if other factions hadn't prepared for a scenario like this happening.

''Certainly, you must understand what we are dealing with here! To remove the strongest being in existence from the Dimensional Gap… it's not a simple matter!'' one of the Nilrem's magicians said with distress.

''The only other being to even stand a chance against Great Red is Ophis and even with the Brigade's combined strength helping it– her, the victory would not be guaranteed.'' Katerea added with only a light quiver, having recovered fast from her initial shock. ''To succeed, we need to be one hundred percent sure the attempt will work. Should we fail, there wouldn't be left much to search for an alternative solution after a cataclysmic battle of that size.''

It was the same argument recited almost from word to word the Khaos Brigade had given to Ophis for why attacking Great Red head-on wasn't such a good idea, which the Dragon God, thankfully, had found sound.

''That is the conclusion I have come to as well.'' came Tactimon nodded.

Did he agree due to the logic or out of self-preservation, Cao Cao could not say. He sighed in relief nevertheless.

''To succeed, the plan has to be perfect,'' curiously, while the samurai spoke in Japanese, the last word was said in English. ''There is no room for failure indeed. It is also where the next problem comes in, the lack of coordination between you.''

''I wholly agree. Unfortunately, working together has proven to be quite difficult.'' Katerea said while not so subtly glancing toward Cao Cao.

Oh, he saw what the Devil was hinting at alright. Try and throw Hero Faction under the bus it seems.

Cao Cao heard Georg snap one of his press buttons –Your expression.

Right, he realized, letting his facial muscles relax. Soon he was plastering a carefree smile, and easily lied through his grinning teeth. ''We in the Hero Faction have always been open for cooperation. Sadly, our calls had always been met with silence.''

Both members of Nilrem and the Devils scoffed but didn't rise to his bait, disappointingly.

''I have been led to believe that due to your 'differing modus operands', it is challenging for you to find ways to cooperate.'' There was no humor found in Tactimon's voice.

''That's one way to put it.'' Cao Cao tentatively agreed, not enjoying how the samurai's focus was now solely on him.

''Indeed. To overcome this weakness, Ophis-sama, in her graciousness, has allowed me to establish a new branch in the Khaos Brigade, called the D5 Division.''

''And what does this D5 exactly do?'' The throne room's sole Angel asked skeptically, having finally joined the conversation.

The question made Tactimon divert his attention away from Cao Cao, to his great relief.

''While the D5 will also be working towards a solution on securing our master's home back, just like you all are, the division will also operate as a centralized agency in the Khaos Brigade, meaning to assist and help your cells to better communicate and act together.''

Cao Cao raised an eyebrow upon hearing this. Similar reactions could be seen on others.

''If you have found something that can help our master, you will share it with the D5 Division, who in return will aid you on this matter by lending manpower, information, or other things depending on the need. Along with this, I will also expect you all to send comprehensive weekly reports concerning your progress and what you have done to achieve this to D5 to be reviewed.''

''I assume you'll be the one leading this D5?'' Creuserey asked, his tone neutral.

''That is correct.''

Cao Cao started over what Tactimon had laid out for them. He could have easily forced the factions to submit to him, even do something worse, but he didn't. He restricted them just enough so he could monitor and ensure they honored their contract with Ophis, while still maintaining most of their autonomy to do what they wanted.

Cao Cao realized Tactimon was doing this because he needed them – or rather – the factions' resources and networks which the samurai probably lacked at the moment. Seems it was more beneficial to let them work on their own accord, rather than being forced. In other words, Tactimon couldn't ensure they would follow their promise and not bail out should his grip be too tight on them, at least for now.

By offering his assistance, the samurai even made sure that the benefits of this new arrangement would balance the disadvantages; having a power multiplier like him was an opportunity of a lifetime for most of the Brigade, and Tactimon most certainly knew it also, which was precisely why he presented the offer the way he did. To profit from this, they would just have to figure out how to combine their and Ophis' goals, nothing too hard for him.

Risking a glance toward the Devils, Cao Cao saw Katerea and Creuserey had a dangerous glint in their eyes, having realized the same. No doubt they were already weaving plans on how to use this opportunity to their advantage.

Cao Cao had to give it to Tactimon. He was using the stick-and-carrot approach to get what he wanted quite well.

But it begged the question of why. Why make them search for ways to kill Great Red?

The answer seemed simple at first glance: Tactimon was someone who was truly crazy enough to want to kill the Dragon of Dragons. But was there more to it than that? The samurai acted as if he was a loyal follower of Ophis, but so did they all.

''This is not what we agreed with Ophis!''

Cao Cao saw one of the Nilrem's magicians had taken a step forward. He seemed to be surprised by his own outburst too by the way his cheeks, having turned red from anger, now became pale.

''Is that so?'' Tactimon's voice had taken a dangerous undertone.

''I-I… Well…'' The magician stammered, now realizing how way out of his league he was.

Tactimon continued. ''Did you not take Ophis-sama's snake and pledge yourself to her; promising that the Great Red would be destroyed; that she could return to her silent world?''

Even when the samurai's' fiery gaze was directed at the trembling magician, the question was pointed to all of them. The room's atmosphere started to become oppressive and Cao Cao felt how his ears began to ring. Some members took steps back.

Looking up at the throne, Cao Cao saw Ophis, passively observing the scene. As always, the Dragon God's face showed no expression.

''Yes! Yes, I did— we all did and will continue to faithfully serve Great Ophis!'' The now crouching magician blurted in panic, his skin pale and ropes damp from sweat.

Like a curtain, the suffocating feeling was lifted and Cao Cao let out a breath he realized he'd been holding.

''Then these changes bring nothing new you haven't already promised to her,'' Tactimon said with finality.

'Well played Tactimon.' Cao Cao silently congratulated as he got his racing heart under control.

He had to give credit where it was due. Tactimon had planned the way this meeting would go from beginning to end, him having lost the moment Hero Faction had decided to partake in it.

''That is quite a wonderful plan, Tactimon. We Devil's from True Satan Faction can't wait to start working together with you and the D5 Division,'' Katerea's sugary tones failed to hide some of the nervousness that had returned to her. ''It is also admirable to be leading all by yourself. You must be having your hands full, no? We would be more than happy to lend our aid to you.''

'And by help, you mean having the place filled with spies.' Cao Cao helpfully translated. He wasn't going to bother with his own favor-making attempt, having already pieced a good picture of Tactimon. He knew what the samurai was going to say.

''Your concerns and assistance are unnecessary. I have everything well underway.''

---

Exciting the palace grounds, Cao Cao reveled the cold wind biting his face and inhaled. It was a welcoming change to the throne room's dense and oppressive air. It had been a long hour, and neither him or Georg had the energy to talk on their way out. Familiar figures soon were seen in the distance coming towards them, descending a snowy slope.

''Welcome back guys~!''

''Cao Cao, Georg.''

''Finally, it was starting get boring around here!''

''Damn, you two look like you ran a marathon.''

''Jeanne, Siegfried, Heracles, Perseus.'' Cao Cao greeted his comrades as he came to a stop before them.

''So, how did the meeting go?'' Siegfried asked as he weighed one of his demonic swords on his shoulder.

Looking at his close circle of comrades, Cao Cao saw everyone was eager to hear what had gone inside the palace.

''Better than expected.'' he said in earnest. Seeing Heracles' expectant look, he added. ''And no, there won't be fighting this time.''

''That's a letdown,'' the inheritor of the Greek's heroic spirit grumbled.

''Before we continue any further, Georg, if you would sent us back?''

''Of course, Cao Cao.'' The wizard nodded, eager to leave the place as well.

As Georg activated his Sacred Gear, the group was enveloped in purple mist and transported away from the winter landscape, where other factions' forces were starting to make their leave as well.

As they teleported in silence, Cao Cao's mind began to wander.

Tactimon... truly a terrifying opponent. Not only did the power he wield belong to a different world, but he was also intelligent. Hero Faction would need to discard all their previous plans and rethink their approach entirely in going forward. They couldn't afford to give the samurai a reason to dispose of them as none had a chance against that monster.

Having finally met Tactimon, the impression it had left made Cao Cao afraid; afraid of his power what that represented – a chasm so wide he wasn't sure if humans could cross it. 'Damn that Dragon. Why does it always have to complicate things?'

The Dimension Lost's fog dissipated and the group found themself inside a familiar training hall building that worked as Hero Faction's headquarters.

Yes, Cao was afraid, but it was nothing to be ashamed of. Being afraid was normal, made him human. More than that, he was also a hero. And heroes continued to press onward despite their fear, making the impossible happen. They were not ready to face Tactimon now, but in the future, they would.

Hero Faction's mission would remain the same. They would show the supernatural world why humanity shouldn't be taken lightly, that even gods could die by mortal's hands. By taking control of the Khaos Brigade, Tactimon had unknowingly become one of the stepping stones to reaching that goal.

Cao Cao could feel the beginning of a grin on his lips as he prepared to share his thoughts to his comrades.

---

'Leeches, all of them.' Tactimon thought in disgust, having finally been left alone in the throne room with his master. He couldn't understand how Ophis tolerated these two-faced liars.

Even when his mood was surly from getting more proof for his suspicions, he was pleased with how the meeting had gone. Everyone had fallen in line without much of a problem and he had gotten all the necessary reforms he wanted implemented. There was so much more he wished he could have done, but doing so would have been a venture and the last thing he wanted was to be responsible for dismantling his master's organization.

No, this outcome was acceptable to him. He would now focus on getting the D5 Division up and running while those fools were bickering between themself. After that, the only thing left to do was wait. Either they honored the contract they had with the Ouroboros Dragon and he collected the fruits of their labor, or they would try and betray her, in which case he would be ready to remove the tumor.

No matter the outcome, Ophis would win.

Glancing towards his master, Tactimon saw she had moved to the edge of her throne and was now kicking her legs back and forth, staring at nothing. He should leave too so she could enjoy whatever silence this place provided, undisturbed.

''I will be taking my leave now, Ophis-sama.'' Tactimon said as he bowed before her. ''As always, if there is anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to contact me.''

Ophis eyes landed on him. ''Bring me Great Red's head.''

Not exactly what he meant.

''I will see what I can do, Ophis-sama.''

Still, things were looking promising in Tactimon's opinion. As an added plus, Ophis had agreed to abbreviate her newly renamed Ouroboros Division. Dragon of Dragons Deadly Destruction Day Division would have been rather a mouthful.

---

Underworld

Ajuka Beelzebub heard automated doors of his private lab open behind him as a guest he was expecting stepped inside.

''A little bat told me you've been spending quite a lot of your time here as of late, more so than usual. Should I start to worry about you delegating all your responsibilities as Satan to your peerage, so you can spend all your time in here?'' An amused voice spoke.

''I've dealt with the most matters before I came here. You know I'm not like Falbium.'' Ajuka replied, not looking away from his workbench where he was adjusting a complicated magic formula.

''Heh, I guess so. Just ensuring I don't have to pull your weight as well. I have enough on my plate as it is – any more responsibilities and I'll be in danger of drowning under the paperwork.''

''One more reason we should speed up Underworld's digitalization.'' Ajuka murmured as he concentrated on his work. Getting his magic equation finished, he turned around and greeted his long-time friend.

''Hello Sirzech, it is good to see you. I apologize for the sudden call.''

''It's all right old friend,'' The red-haired Satan raised his hand in a placate. ''I already managed to spend some quality time with my sweet sister and see the rest of her peerage on their spring break, before my return to the office.''

''I assume they are doing well then?''

''Indeed they are!'' Sirzech beamed. ''Dear Rias has told me nothing but good things about her time studying at Kuoh Academy. To think that she is soon starting her third year... Oh, how the time flies.''

Sighing, Sirzech took a more professional tone. ''But I did not come to talk about my adorable younger sister. For you to call me directly, this must be important.''

''Yes. While it might just turn out to be nothing, I believe you should know about this.'' Ajuka made his way towards a circular table and beckoned Sirzech closer. ''Remember how seven days ago my instruments detected a small rift for a few seconds in Underworld's dimensional barrier caused by Great Red?''

''I remember. The incident is still the main talk in our scientific community, it even made it to the front page of the Underworld's news briefly. On top of that, you don't have every day Grigori contacting us.''

''Yes. At least it's good to know they have the foresight too to monitor the barrier in case of things such as this happening.'' Ajuka agreed.

While the three Biblical Factions were still in frozen conflict with each other, they still kept in contact. The terrible death toll on their populations the war had caused left deep scars on every side. Devils' especially, with the following civil war between the original Satan descendants who wanted to restart the war and the Anti-Satan Faction opposing this. With no side wanting to repeat what had happened, it was decided it to be best to keep in contact with each other via back-channels to minimize the risk of a wider conflict breaking out — or in this case to discuss and change data concerning Great Red's recent action.

''While it was a very rare occurrence, this isn't the first time Great Red has flown too close to the dimensional barriers. The last time was in the year 170 if my memory serves right.'' Sirzech recalled, stroking his chin.

''173, actually.'' Ajuka corrected, allowing a small smile to form before his expression changed back serious. ''While this is not a reason alone to get worried, there is more to the incident.''

The Satan Beelzebub summoned a hologram from the table, portraying numerous blue bubbles.

''These are the many worlds that exist in our universe and this,'' Ajuka zoomed out and the bubbles were covered inside an even bigger bubble. ''is the dimensional gap. As you know, we have been actively monitoring it for years. Because of its size, it took me this long to process all the data.''

Ajuka then zoomed back. A miniature dragon along with a small red dot appeared next to one of the bubbles. ''Forty seconds before Great Red came close to Underworld's dimensional barrier, an anomaly was detected in the Dimensional Gap between it and the barrier.''

''What sort of an anomaly are we talking about?'' Sirzech asked, leaning closer.

''A huge energy spike.''

''Did someone try to attack Great Red?'' The Crimson Satan's expression got now serious as well.

While the incidents were curiosities on their own, those two happening in such a short period and proximity to each other did indeed paint a potentially grim picture.

''That is still up for debate. But that's not the most interesting part.'' Looking Sirzech straight in the eyes, Ajuka continued. ''There is a chance that the anomaly didn't originate from anywhere in our universe.''

Sirzech's eyes widened. ''Are you saying it came from beyond the Gap?''

''Perhaps. Or perhaps not. The results fall under the margin of error. The only thing I can say for certain is that something happened on this exact spot.''

''But that's not what you believe, do you Ajuka? Otherwise, you wouldn't have contacted me.''

''While in science, only the things able to be observed and replicated can be confirmed to exist, in this line of work, sometimes you have to follow your gut instinct.''

''Something we both are well versed in.'' Sirzech grimly acknowledged. ''Thank you for sharing this with me, Ajuka.''

''Don't mention it. I'm just doing my duty as a Satan, Sirzech.''

''It is still appreciated nonetheless, old friend.''

''Speaking of duty, since you are returning to the office, could you inform Serafall and Falbium as well? I will be having my hands full going double-checking the data just to make sure there wasn't anything I missed.''

''For Beelzebub to drop his work on me – are you sure Falbium is not influencing you?'' Sirzech made a whine and used a hand to covered his face, faking exasperation.

''I didn't hear no,'' Ajuka shook his head in amusement as he closed the hologram and started to walk back to his workbench. ''I'll inform you if I discover anything new.''

As Ajuka began to tinker with his magic formula again, Sirzech spoke behind him.

''Alright then. Try to get some rest as well, will you.''

''I'll see to that. Until next time, Sirzech.''

''Till next time, Ajuka.''

With the lab's automated doors swooshing open and closing, the Crimson Satan exited the lab.

It seemed it was going to be another long night for Ajuka.

---

Spoiler: A.N.

This chapter ended up way longer than I expected. I'm also not fully satisfied with how this turned out, but I also want to get this out of the way so the story can progress.

Until next time!

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

Forgotten realm, the Khaos Brigade headquarters

Sitting on the giant obsidian throne still as a rock was Ophis, her expression stolid. Having been left to her own devices after the meeting, the Dragon God Infinity had ever since been in an intense staring match with one of the throne room's walls. The ongoing competition had already reached its nine-hour mark, the winner still undecided. Of course, it would be foolish to assume this was really what Ophis had been spending her time doing, for appearances could be deceiving, especially when it came to the enigmatic shapeshifter that she was.

In truth, Ophis had been carefully listening to the minute changes and shifts in the universe that the simple fact of existence emanated — or perhaps it would be more accurate to say she was trying her best not to.

The noise that the Dragon God heard wasn't what could traditionally be thought when speaking of sounds, of vibrations traveling through the air. What she perceived was fundamentally different. The constant flow and currents of reality were so much more, something most couldn't even start to comprehend; to describe them was like trying to make a blind man see colors. Even those rare few who possessed the skill and knowledge to sense the flow of these cosmic energies only scratched the surface, seeing just vague flashes in the murky depths of the sea of creation, unlike Ophis, to whom everything appeared as pellucid as a pond's clear waters, allowing her to experience the reality for what it truly was.

While countless mortals and Gods alike would give anything to be able to feel the universe like her, having such an intimate connection didn't come without a prize.

Although the whirls and waves the reality produced were so unlike sounds, sensing them could be said to be just the same for the Ouroboros Dragon. The closest equivalent of how she felt them was like hearing grasshoppers singing right next to your ear just loud enough that, albeit the buzz was somewhat tolerable, doing anything that required focus was a chore, not to talk about trying to stay asleep. While it was true that the embodiment of Infinity and Nothingness didn't really require such a meager thing as rest, this didn't mean Ophis wouldn't have enjoyed the respite it would have offered from the annoyance.

There was also another noise permeating the creation. Its origin was different, yet the din was as far-reaching as the cosmos' buzz, and it was way more irritating.

The mix of these two intruding distractions had been the source of Ophis' chagrin and something the Dragon had been forced to endure eons, for she could not truly close herself off from the noises. Even here, inside the palace's thousands of isolating magic barriers, she could not escape the annoying racket, and while it was quieter than outside, it wasn't by much. Nothing would bring her true peace except her birthplace, the Dimensional Gap.

It was unfortunate that one particular thing was preventing her from returning to her home, an annoyance and the source of all her troubles in more ways than one: a Dragon named Great Red.

She still remembered it like it was yesterday, the time when the dumb lizard had invaded her home.

---

For a very, very long time, Ophis had been nothing more than existing as a simple force of nature, the Infinite Dragon God's life consisting of just dreamlessly slumbering in the Dimensional Gap, nestled between its serene kaleidoscopic scenery. On a one fateful day, while drifting through the void, Ophis' simple existence was interrupted by something bumping into them. This event was most unusual, for there existed nothing but Ophis themself in the world between worlds at the time. Focusing on the troublemaker, they watched it slowly disintegrate before completely disappearing from existence.
Ophis later came to learn that their first contact with the outside world had been a small rock. While the pebble had quickly erased, it left its mark on the Dragon God. For the first time in their life, Ophis had felt something stirring inside them: a feeling called curiosity.

This small and barely felt emotion spurred the Dragon God to fully rise from their slumber and to see where the little interrupter had come from. Slithering in the void world in search of the strange object's point of origin, Ophis found even more things not native to their land had also appeared in their time of repose. Most of these alien things the Dragon saw were in the middle of disintegrating while few of the things were powerful enough to resist the Gap's hazardous nature, curiously enough.

Seeing all this, Ophis came to realize something important. For there to exist things where nothing besides themself existed meant these strange objects had to come elsewhere, outside the Dimensional Gap. Having gotten the first taste of the world outside, the Ouroboros Dragon became even more curious and left their home to see what awaited them.

It was then that Ophis came to learn there existed worlds besides their own and — far more importantly — they were not alone.

These other creatures were a great puzzle to them. Ophis saw inside their mind and soul, easily sensing whatever feelings and secrets they held. But what use was it when these creatures were like dead languages long forgotten? No matter how long and hard the Ouroboros Dragon tried, they could not begin to understand them.

The little ones felt so alien to the Infinite Dragon God, their lives so short, the power they held nonexistent. For some strange reason, the most weakest and numerous ran and made sounds when they saw the Dragon, if they didn't just fall on the ground and stopped moving altogether. Ophis didn't understand why they acted the way they did, as these creatures seemed to act without distress when with their kin. What made the Dragon so different from them to evoke such a reaction was a mystery to them, but it certainly made observing the little critters a chore.

To make things more manageable, Ophis decided to just follow suit and assume a new form they had lastly seen: a wrinkled and bald-haired human male, garbed in weird and torn fabrics.

After changing shape, observing these creatures became much easier. An interesting side effect, as Ophis noticed at the time, was that most started to refer to them as 'he'. Although the Dragon God did not understand the reason (for they were just Ophis, nothing more, nothing less) they didn't see any harm in it. And so, this had marked the day Ophis decided to no longer be they, but he.

Humans, crabs, unicorns, other (very weak) Dragons, a particularly talkative Angel, Ophis observed them all, mortals and Gods alike. Some for just a moment, some longer if they were particularly interesting. A number of these creatures talked to him and asked questions, but Ophis mostly ignored these, for they spoke of things he didn't care or understand. Simply observing them was enough for him.

The Ouroboros Dragon watched how the seasons changed, where souls traveled after death, the birth and death of stars, and so many more phenomena that caught his attention. Everything had been so new and interesting but in time, his curiosity was starting to tail off. Events just seemed to repeat themselves in an endless cycle: times of peace were followed by war, after which there would be peace again, civilizations rose and fell, same old decisions were made by new people again and again.

Having had his fill, Ophis started to yearn back to his world of silence, away from the creation which new and interesting buzzing had become quite annoying.

When the Dragon God returned to his home ready to resume his dreamless slumber, to his surprise, another Dragon was greeting him there. Over a hundred meters long, possessing two pairs of wings and a great horn growing from its head, the crimson Dragon was no other than Great Red, the sole other Dragon God in existence with a power to match. In his time away marveling at the outside worlds, Ophis had failed to sense this newcomer enter the Dimensional Gap.

Ophis didn't know why or where it had appeared, nor did he really care about it's presence. However, what he did take a great issue with was the racket the red Dragon had brought with it.

It had hurt to listen to the invader's constant laughter and jolliness as it flew in his home between the iridescent colors-cape without care in the world, making loops and other unnecessary maneuvers in delight. The equilibrium had been fouled at that day, Ophis' peace and quiet robbed by Great Red, whose mere existence was now polluting his world with its dreams and other inane concepts.

At first, Ophis was unsure what to do, for no one had ever before denied his silence. When it finally became apparent that Great Red wouldn't quiet down, Ophis tried to convey that it wasn't welcomed there, that it should leave his home at once.

When the brainless lizard ignored him, he tried to force it away. The attempt was unsuccessful, for Ophis had never needed to use his might against someone else. He was inexperienced at fighting and Great Red was at least his equal in power, easily evading and deflecting any attempt to have it gone.

Having no other options left, Ophis was forced to leave his home, for he couldn't bear Great Red's laughter, nor its tone-deaf singing that made it impossible for him to sleep. And so, leaving the Dimensional Gap, Ophis exchanged the Dumb Red's cacophony for the universe's buzzing. The relief was short-lived, for even outside he could hear the crimson bully's voice, if greatly diminished, thankfully.

From here onward Ophis began his fruitless search to find a way to reclaim his home. He knew of no way how to destroy Great Red. In his previous journey through the cosmos, everything he had seen could not match the strength of him or the Dragon of Dreams, so insignificant everything was compared to a Dragon God.

While he continued his travels, the nagging noises accompanied him everywhere. But in hardship, brilliance emerges. The constant distraction prompted Ophis to develop an ingenious way to help him actively combat the noises: thinking.

At first, the Infinite Dragon God simply started to think about the sole thing he yearned for: he, back in his pleasant silent world with no Great Red in sight. As time went on, Ophis started to reminisce about other things he had experienced while wandering the outside world. He would recall the time he once heard frogs croaking in a swamp, or when he stood on an ocean shore and smelled its salty air, or the tingle he felt when he had been drifting in the expanse of space, bathing in the cosmic rays, and so many other things he had experienced. Ophis wasn't exactly sure why he thought of these things, but he knew they weren't unpleasant to think of, and so he decided it was good.

Decades turned into centuries, and Ophis' sense of thinking blossomed even further. He wouldn't just relive his memories, but would also start to imagine. The Infinite Dragon God thought of things he had never thought before, imagining new things and scenarios.

It felt really weird to him.

Initially, Ophis did not enjoy this new trait that had taken root in him, for imagination felt too close to the concept of dreaming, and he didn't want to have anything to do with something that had even the slightest connection to Great Red, who embodied Dream and Illusion. But as years passed, Ophis gradually started to accept and see the benefits of his newfound ability, for it allowed him to imagine different ways he could exact his revenge against her adversary, be it simply picturing the big lizard popping out of existence like a bubble, to more elaborate plans, such as him strangling it to death with his bare hands. Thus, he decided being able to imagine was good.

The culmination of the Infinite Dragon God's imagination was when, inexplicably, he felt the need to change form again into something else, something that felt more suitable for him.

Previously, Ophis hadn't paid much attention to his appearance, as the body of an old man he had taken was just a shell for him to interact with others and served a simple function with no other thought given to it.

But now, like a caterpillar who was ready to morph into a beautiful butterfly, Ophis felt it was time for him to change again. Unlike before, he did not directly copy someone's appearance. This time he took bits and pieces from other beings he met while traveling the world; pointy ears from an elf who had offered him an apple; long black hair from a man who had given him a ride to a nearby port; a nose from a young girl whose lute play he had stayed to listen to, and so on. He wasn't sure what exactly dictated him to choose those particular features, but it had felt right, and so he deemed it good.

After assuming the new form, now that of a short and petite female, Ophis, now she, realized she needed clothes too. She knew most people wore them and avoided those that didn't for some reason. And so, she willed herself garments from a variety of people throughout the ages she had seen, choosing bits and pieces that she felt adequate to her new body.

Time passed, and at one point, the Infinite Dragon God came across a desolate realm where everlasting winter reigned, with an abandoned and great stone palace standing in sublime solitude. Inside the fortress's dark and cold halls, Ophis found a place somewhat quieter compared to anywhere else the Dragon had ever been outside her home.

That day, Ophis discovered two things: a place where she could withdraw, and brand new emotion called joy.

The following centuries, Ophis mostly spent inside the palace while thinking on how to proceed onward with her conundrum. Sometimes she left her temporary home when her unparalleled perception and senses felt something unusual happening in the universe, mostly being the times Great Read flew too close to some realm's dimension barrier separating it from the Dimensional Gap.

On one of her trips, as luck would have it, a group of individuals came to her, offering to help Ophis kill the Dumb Red. In exchange, she would become their leader and gift her snakes to power them.

She accepted the offer immediately.

Even if the chances of success were nonexistent, it had been the best opportunity Ophis had ever been presented with, having exhausted all her options up to that point. The power they asked from her was nothing, for they were like ants compared to her. And ants could not eat much, or else their bellies burst, this she knew.

And so, Ophis patiently waited for her new servants to find the solution she was not able to come up with by herself.

---

Now, I continue my wait in here.'

Having concluded her life's story, Ophis' attention turned back to the familiar and annoying buzz that rang in the back of her mind. She had reached the present time faster than she would have liked in her reminiscence, but after the millionth of time reliving them, they started to become a bit too dull even for her.

Luckily, she now had brand new memories to go over, thanks to Tactimon's inadvertently sharing many of his with her when they first met. It beat coming up with new things to think about by herself, a labor that was strangely exhausting in a way Ophis could not describe, and wasn't that an interesting feeling to have for the primordial Dragon who was the Infinity itself?

The appearance of the Digimon had certainly lifted her spirit. While it was quite unfortunate that Tactimon's world had its own Dumb Red, a mindless beast Zeed Millenniumon, who had completely erased the Digital World and whatever hopes she had for finding a new home, she continued to be optimistic.

Unlike before, she now had followers pursuing her goal and with the addition of the samurai Digimon, her changes were even better. The fact that Tactimon came from a world beyond the Dimensional Gap meant he would hold a different perspective and could think outside the box. If someone would come up with a solution on how to kill Great Red, it would be him, Ophis was sure of it.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she had decided to take a page out of the little ones' book and ask him to serve her, just like she had been asked to lead the Khaos Brigade. And similar to her, Tactimon had accepted, making her pleased. The Ouroboros Dragon had never thought getting allies would have been this easy. In fact, she had never really thought of alliances of any sort before the Khaos Brigade.

Ophis' newest member was a strange one to be sure, not that she had come any closer to understanding the minds of others from when she had first stepped outside her home. She did not understand why the Digimon wanted to hear her opinions on so many matters, he said he was going to help her and she trusted him. That should have been enough in her opinion. Tactimon was perfectly able to formulate thoughts by himself, this she had checked, so why ask her? No one else in the Brigade acted quite like this, they just came to her chamber and expressed their reasons for being there, after which they usually asked for her snakes before leaving. And yes, while they also used the same words and phrases as Tactimon when addressing her, the Digimon's felt somehow different. How exactly, she couldn't quite explain this.

Ophis plopped her head up against the throne's backrest with a thud, the sound of her skull meeting the massive stone structure echoing well beyond the chamber. The curved dome-shaped ceiling seemed more appealing to stare at now, the obsidian wall bringing her no more satisfaction.

Ophis would wait inside this palace for another eternity if needed, it would be no problem for her. She was the Dragon God of Infinity and had all the time in the universe. She just wished the solution would hurry up, having to actually have trouble remembering what it felt like to live without the constant buzz occupying her mind, and that if someting was a memory she didn't want to forget.

'I shall go over Tactimon's memories once more.' Ophis decided.

Her next pastime chosen for the time being, Ophis started from the first memory fragment she had seen, hoping it to offer her enough of a distraction from the chore of crickets assaulting her senses. Perhaps they could give her new ideas on how to kill the stupid lizard.

---

Underworld, True Satan Faction territory

''Such impudence! That oaf really believes he can order us like some plebeians, us, descendants of the Satans!?''

Katerea Leviathan halfheartedly listened to Shalba Beelzebub's venting from her cozy spot in an armchair, while swirling a glass of wine in her grasp, finding the lounge room's opulent decorations far more interesting to look at. The polished parquet floor was covered with wide hand-weaved carpets, while an old but well-maintained wooden round table meant for dinner parties stood in the middle, the Asmodeus Clan's insignia carved on top of the sturdy furniture. The small flames from dozens of golden candelabras illuminated the vast room, making the wallpapers hand-painted exotic silver flowers, commissioned a long time ago by Creuserey's mother, gleam beautifully.

The room alone was more valuable than a middle-class devil's five years' worth of pay. Katerea herself thought Creuserey was being way too modest with the decoration, even if the estate was just one of his smaller, inherited family villas. The blood of the Satans flowed through them, it should be reflected in every aspect of their lives was what she believed, and had told Creuserey such. While the Asmodeus descendant agreed with her, the handsome devil wanted to retain his estates the way they were since his ancestors had built and decorated them, which she respected.

The only addition Creuserey had made was the thick brown curtains made from the wool of a rare breed of Boramezt, drawn over the windows to not let the moonlight of Underworld seep in.

Being forced to see the unnatural satellite every time she was outside never failed to make Katerea sour, being yet another constant reminder of the folly of the Satan impostors. Making an artificial moon and forcing a day a night cycle in the Underworld just to accommodate the reincarnated, impostor devils' poor needs? It was an insult of the highest order to the Devil kind.

Taking a sip of her wine, Katerea enjoyed its slight sweetness and tinning it brought to the tip of her tongue, while the Beelzebub descendant continued to stomp around.

"Ophis, once again, leaving its designated place just so happens to stumble upon this 'Tactimon', who promises it the stars and heavens. And of course that gullible Dragon laps every word said to it without a second thought, and then immediately invites this charlatan to the Khaos Brigade! This is unbelievable, I tell you two!"

Continuing her tasting, Katerea had to admit this was an excellent vintage for her elegant tastebuds, which was expected, as the wine was made by no one else than the Zagan clan's skillful brewers, using the grapes they were known to grow in their lands.

'Such pity their Pillar along with their vineyards burned in the Great War. It's so hard to find good wines nowadays.' Lamenting, Katerea took taking another sip. She would need to ask Creuserey to gift her some more of this from his wine cellar.

"That it is Shalba. Unfortunately, we still lack any effective means to keep Ophis under control." The even voice of the Asmodeus agreed with Shalba.

''Tsch! If it only was possible, I would nail that Dragon to a wall where it would hang and stay.''

Taking another sip, one longer than what might have been considered proper for a Devil of her stature, Katerea momentarily tuned out from the heated conversation, trying to enjoy the warmth and what little relaxation the alcohol brought, as her thoughts returned to that cold and forsaken realm the Ouroboros Dragon had chosen as its lair, and to that damn meeting with Tactimon.

After the first tense minutes of the samurai's introduction, the rest of the gathering had proceeded relatively smoothly with no further disagreements voiced by anyone. Much to Katerea's and Creusereys' annoyance, their new acquaintance had explained in frustratingly great detail what he expected everyone to include in their weekly reports to his D5 Division, as everyone dutifully listened and nodded along. The talk had been boring almost – if you forgot the fact the one doing the lecture had the power and will to dispose of all of them, should the need arise.

When the meeting had finally concluded, Katerea and Creuserey wasted no time in starting to make preparations for the future. The two immediately contacted Shalba to set up a meeting, which was then decided to be held in Asmodeus Clan's one of the more remote villas.

Shalba's continued ranting brought Katerea back from her reminiscence. She saw him waving the document that had Tactimon's terms and instructions printed on it, promptly discarding the paper on the table.

''And what kind of person hides behind a mask anyway!? No, don't bother answering Creuserey, I'll tell you; people that are cowards!''

'How ironic for the only one of us to abstain from the meeting to talk about cowardice.' Katerea dryly remarked to herself, fighting back a chuckle.

Despite her feelings on the matter, she couldn't really fault the Beelzebub. Precaution was the reason they had survived this long after the disastrous Civil War and it was only sensible that one of them would stay and watch over their lands while two of them would attend. It would be in poor taste to call him out because of this –even when Shalba's quick volunteering to stay behind with his transparent excuses made it a delicious opportunity to do so.

Despite his comical indignation, Katerea had to admit she was impressed by how well the Beelzebub was conducting himself after they had broken the news. Before coming here, she had needed to excuse herself from Creuserey's company to reduce few hills to rubble, along with one dimwitted servant of hers too stupid not to bother her at the time. Then again, Shalba was also smart enough to know not to damage Creuserey's property. All of them knew how important the family heirlooms were to the last Asmodeus descendant.

''I wholly agree with you Shalba. And trust me, he will get his due in time,'' Creusereys replied from his armchair, the handsome Devil's chin resting on his intertwined hands as he followed Shalba's circling with a hard expression. ''as will everyone else who dares try to get in our way.''

Katerea could tell that the encounter with that brat Cao Cao was still fresh in his mind. Poor Creuserey, she would need to think of something to soothe him later tonight.

Taking a final sip of her wine before setting the empty glass aside, the Leviathan descendant decided now was a good time to chime in before Shalba got any more indignant.

''While Tactimon's arrival is certainly unfortunate, it has also given us some options not available before. I believe it would be foolish not to take advantage of this opportunity presented to us.''

Shalba's pacing came to a halt as he turned to face Katerea, the sudden motion making his black cape whirl in a wide arc. The Beelzebub had to swipe his long and well-groomed chestnut hair aside obstructing his intense gaze, having become slightly messy in his pacing.

''I hope you're not suggesting us to stoop so low as to serve that presumptuous, plated imbecile like some low-borns!''

Katerea sighed. Shalba had always been the most dedicated of the three of them to reclaim their rightful positions in the Underworld. The fact he held most of his ancestor's lands after the Civil War, compared to Katerea and Creuserey whose Pillars had lost over two-thirds of theirs, along with Shalba's charisma, made the Beelzebub an invaluable asset and the main backer of their cause. Unfortunately, his bullheadedness resulted in him clashing against her more practical views from time to time.

Katerea chose her next words carefully, the wine in her blood helping mask the irritation. ''Of course not. That is something I would never consider us doing and neither was Tactimon foolish enough to expect us to. We are in this for a mutually beneficial gain — so to speak. If we play our cards right, there's a lot for us to gain.''

''Think about it Shalba. With enough of Ophis' snakes and now this deity assisting us, we have a chance to take out those four impostors along with the traitors who sided with them for good.''

Katerea sent a brief look of approval to Creuserey. She could always count on the handsome devil to have her back.

Shalba tutted, his face morphing into an angry scowl, clearly wanting to rebut her, but the prospect of having Tactimon assisting them was too tantalizing of an opportunity even for the Beelzebub descendant to pass when they sorely needed all the help they could get. She could see him coming to the same conclusion as she and Creuserey had.

When him let out a deep exhale and pinched his nose, Katerea knew she had him hooked. Basking in her victory, she allowed Shalba to compose himself in peace.

''That bastard clearly knows what he's doing. Unfortunately for him, he's not the only one who knows how to play this game.'' Shalba reluctantly admitted, his gaze momentarily falling on the floor before locking back on her. ''You are certain we can trust his word?''

Katerea's lips quirked up. ''He will. It's clear Tactimon needs other cells to cooperate with him, no matter how much he tries not to show it. He might try to make it seem he has everyone under his thumb, the reality couldn't be further from the truth. And before he even realizes it, we'll have squeezed everything useful out of him and thrown his body to rot.''

''Knowing you, you already have some sort of scheme cooking in your mind so out with it.''

''Hmph. You're as sharp as ever, Shalba. And yes, I have something in mind.'' Rising from her seat, Katerea leisurely made her way to the round table where Shalba had discarded Tactimon's instructions. Taking the document, she seemingly inspected it like she hadn't already read damn the pamphlet way too many times over, deliberately making Shalba wait for a few beats longer than necessary. It had the desired effect of making the devil's temple throb as he drummed his fingers impatiently.

'Serves you right for snapping at me like that.'

The Leviathan descendant was well aware of the danger Tactimon posed. Having the audacity to posture next to Ophis as if he were its right-hand man, along the dismissive way he dared to act towards her and Creuserey; it was all blunt, infuriating, and very in the nose, but more importantly, very effective way to show others he was the one calling the shots for now. That along with these documents he gave to everyone with the very detailed prescription of the Khaos Brigade cells' apparent duties was a clear sign that the deity in question wasn't just a meathead whose life revolved around swinging a sword. Any acts of goodwill to garner favors would be looked at with extreme skepticism.

''Tactimon knows everyone in the Brigade is in it for themself, he won't be trusting anyone. But that's the part which we will utilize.'' She explained.

Looking back up, Katerea saw she had Shalba's full attention, his scowl having lessened into a more curious frown. Creuserey on the meanwhile had shifted in his chair and was now sitting with his back straight.

''…By making others seem even more untrustworthy, we can elevate ourselves in his eyes, making us the preferred partners to work with." Creuserey supplemented, appearing to realize what Katerea was suggesting. In reality, she had already told him of her plan in advance. This was all just a performance to get Shalba fully on board.

''Oh, really now? And you believe we can achieve this how exactly?'' Shalba gave Katerea an unimpressed look.

The Leviathan descendant's eye twitched. That Beelzebub was really starting to get on her nerves, which seemed to be his goal from the gleeful look in his eyes was anything to go about.

"Don't play dumb Shalba, it's unbecoming of you. You know what I mean. Thanks to our spies, we have gathered more than enough evidence from many of the factions get rid of them, and what better way to do the house cleaning if not by letting the new poster boy do it.''

''Of course. How forgetful of me.'' Shalba waved his hand dismissively in a mock placate. ''I do agree that it's high time we finally get rid of the useless trash. But you forget one important fact: doing so would make everyone in the Brigade openly hostile towards us when they learn it was us Devils who gave Tactimon the information.''

''It doesn't need to be us.''

''What do you mean?'' Shalba turned to look at Creuserey who just spoke from his armchair.

''We can forge it to look like someone else leaked the information, letting them share all the honor that will arise from this along with Tactimon.''

No one in the room needed to be clarified the Asmodeus descendant was referring to.

''You catch on quick, Creuserey.'' Katerea spoke, not needing to say who hadn't caught what she'd been getting at. She greatly enjoyed Shalba's expression when he realized her silent jab.

'I definitely need to make more pre-planned meetings like this in the future with Shalba. These are way too much fun.'

Making sure her voice was back to sounding professional, she quickly continued so as not to allow Beelzebub time to form a response to her subtle insult.

"That indeed is my plan. There will be some accusations and pointing of fingers when heads start to roll but ultimately, it will lead to nothing — except creating even greater confusion and distrust between our enemies, of course.''

''And what about us? Something tells me we can't rely anymore on our old excuses nor vague promises we've made to Ophis to get more of its snakes.'' Shalba spoke, looking like he had just eaten a lemon.

"An unfortunate but necessary reality we have to face. We'll just have to put up a little bit more effort on our facade for appearances sake. Balancing between doing the bare minimum and being not too eager so as not to raise suspicion will be a non-issue."

"And if Tactimon proves to be more trouble than worth?"

'Always the skeptic aren't you, Shalba?'

"I suggest we all start searching for those Dragon Slayers he so much wants us then. I'm sure you at least can find something useful from your lands." Katerea gave him a final smile before letting the now crumpled document she had been holding fall back on the round table. ''In any case, we need more time on coming up with a solution on how to remove him if the need arises. But I'm certain that with enough time and preparation, we will manage.''

''We should also keep a close eye on Nirlem. Those magicians have been willing to work with us in the past and depending on how things escalate, they can work as a useful meat to be thrown in the grinder.'' Creuserey added, having risen from his seat and walked next to them.

Subtly positioning himself between the two told Katerea Creuserey wanted her to cease annoying Shalba. Reluctantly, she decided to drop her teasing.

"Agreed. What do you say, Shalba?" Katerea turned her head back to the Beelzebub descendant.

"Fine. You have my approval." Shalba finally agreed through his gritted teeth.

"You have mine as well, Katerea."

"Excellent. We are all in an agreement then."

Hearing her satisfied words, Creuserey snapped his fingers, signaling a butler who had been silently standing in attention on the sideline. Knowing what was expected of him, the servant filled three glasses with champagne and carried them on a silver tray to them. Taking the glasses, Creuserey gave the first one to Shalba, followed by her and himself.

Having been relieved of his burden, the low-class Devil bowed and obediently returned to his station. The butler, like all the other Satans descendants' servants, had been trained to keep to themself what they learned in the meetings of their masters as any proper servant should. It was better than losing your tongue or worse, your life.

Creuserey gestured to Shalba, giving him the honors. The chestnut-haired devil still had a lingering frown but after a few beats, he raised his glass and spoke with the same pompoise he did with the crowds.

''For too long we've been denied our destiny. By the right of our ancestor's blood, the Underworld shall be ours as we restore order. All hail the true Satans!''

''All hail the true Satans!''

Both Katerea and Creuserey echoed Shalba's declaration and raised their glasses to the air in unison, before bringing them to their lips.

As the three descendants of the Satans emptied their drinks, Katerea imagined a future where she was sitting on the same throne her Great ancestor once had, recognized as the only true Leviathan with Creuserey at her side. From there, she would rule the Underworld with Asmodeus and Beelzebub, restoring things to the way they should be, returning Lucifaad as the capital being just one of her many, less bloody reforms that would follow her ascension.

---

Human World, Japan

The nightly city was buzzing with life. Streets were full of people returning to their homes, others heading to their just-starting shifts while the rest were simply enjoying, be it in nightclubs, restaurants, doing some late-night shopping, or countless other things humans liked to do in their free time. Whatever it was, everyone seemed to be in a hurry, as such was the city life.

Adding to the mix of pedestrians was the sound of traffic as taxis, mopeds, and vans (there were just so many different kinds of human transports) swept by the lanes in long lines. Motors rumbled, tires rustled and sometimes an impatient driver could be heard honking their horn in a pointless gesture to make haste.

The whole spectacle was illuminated by street lights, making sure the night would never truly fall in the giant metropolis.

There were also billboards, so many billboards. With the number of alighted ads hanging from the giant buildings with their neon lights and LED screens, you would think the street lights weren't necessary. Speakers advertised all sorts of products that promised to make your life easier or sold services to waste your time and money, promising you a chance to forget the hardships of life for a moment.

Tactimon silently took this all in from a nearby alley covered by shadows, the samurai having positioned him so that none of the city lights reached him.

Even without the darkness he wasn't worried about being discovered, the long black robes covering his body from boots to helmet were imbued with perception-altering magic. While supernatural beings would have no trouble seeing the Digimon, regular humans' minds would not notice him.

Another highly useful spell used on this cloak was making it slightly bigger on the inside so no one could tell he was wearing full armor, his helmet and the three tanegashimas on his back blending seamlessly inside the fabric's confines. It was a very useful spell for remaining anonymous, especially for Tactimon who'd entered the world fully clothed and plated. To Tactimon, his armor was his skin, and he would never willingly strip it off. With this cloak he would appear as just some robed mage particularly mindful of his identity, just the way he wanted.

It truly was a pleasant surprise for him to learn just how vast and varied this world's magic crafts were compared to what he was used to.

Despite him being aware of the Human World's existence for a very long time, Tactimon had never actually been in the Zone in all his time as a Head Officer in the Bagra Empire. This was only his second time visiting the world (the first one being a few days ago when preparing for his presentation to Ophis, and it hadn't been in a city of this size) so he wanted to appreciate the sights for a little while before moving. Despite not being the Human World he knew, the humans themself seemed to be the same where it counted, and that was what mattered the most to him.

'If the places were switched, would humans chosen from this world have been able to prevent the destruction of ours?' Tactimon wondered as people continued to walk past his hiding spot.

The samurai focused back on the busy street, ignoring his conflicting thoughts. It would do no good to dwell on the past, it would only cloud his judgment of the future.

Seeing people chatter between themself and laugh, speaking on phones – it all seemed so mundane in his eyes. It was hard to believe that from a place like this could come heroes and warriors of myths who proceed to take center stage in making history.

Despite his doubts, Tactimon knew better than to judge a book by its cover. He had personally witnessed the great heights humans with guts and drive could rise to. Perhaps even in this world filled with little and frivolous worriers was someone who, with the right circumstances, could become as great as the chosen children he had battled against. There certainly seemed to be at least promising candidates.

Turning around, Tactimon made it deeper into the shadows, his sightseeing over. The reason for his visit was to meet someone, not ruminate over 'what-ifs'.

The one drunkard who shared the alley with the Digimon to empty his stomach unconsciously stepped aside from Tactimon's way, not even registering the robed samurai's presence. Tactimon likewise ignored the human, only granting a brief condemnation at the sorry sight.

Coming to a dead end, he pressed a specific brick tile in the wall inward an inch. Immediately, a portion of the wall melted away like a hot wax, forming a vertically shaped oval entrance.

Stepping inside, Tactimon felt his skin tickle as he bypassed a magic barrier made to keep regular folk away from the place and the hole in the wall behind him sealed itself back shut.

His new surroundings revealed to be a shabby bar of some sort that had seen better days. Only a few customers were there, sitting alone and brooding with their drinks while an overly happy pop song was playing in the background, the high-pitched voice of the singer making quite the contrast with the gloomy atmosphere. Over the counter, he saw a flickering bright red neon sign hanging with a hefty dust layer covering it.

Legless Snake

Having confirmed he had come to the right place, the samurai stepped further inside, advancing towards the bar counter. There, a fair-faced, middle-aged woman was swiping her phone with a bored expression. Her appearance was otherwise that of a human, but a floating ball of flame surrounding her head which didn't appear to burn her revealed the woman's Youkai nature.

'Must be an Ubagabi using transformation magic of sorts to allow her a body.' Tactimon wagered with a frown. Loitering around while on the clock, even when there were little to no customers, set up a bad image of the employees and by extension, the company. Should he have been her superior, Tactimon would have fired the Youkai on the spot.

Finally hearing his approach, the bartender quickly put her phone away and smiled at him. ''Oh, good evening! What may I get you?''

''Sake, the cheapest you have.'' Tactimon evenly replied.

He was only making an order so as not to appear too suspicious. The fact that the bartender wasn't bothered at all by him hiding in these robes was telling enough of what sort of folks visited the place. It was also the main reason he had chosen the bar as the meeting ground with his contact.

''Ah, having one of those kind of days? Don't worry, I got ya.'' the bartender spoke and gave him a sympathetic look. Soon, he was handed a sake bottle along with a cracked ceramic cup. ''There you go.''

Paying and grabbing his beverage, Tactimon headed towards a lone booth at the far corner of the bar, where his contact was supposed to meet him, but not before giving one final glance at the bartender over his shoulder. Just as he suspected, she had gone back to typing on her phone.

Seeing this, he needed to make a small correction. He wouldn't have fired the youkai, no, he would have ensured she hadn't been accepted on the job in the first place.

Arriving at the booth, he saw his contact was already waiting there with a half-finished pint of beer. She had come quite early, considering there were about ten minutes before their meeting was officially scheduled to start.

Sitting with her legs crossed, the woman had blue long hair reaching well past her shoulders and yellow eyes that held a stern look. She was wearing a red trench coat with a buttoned white shirt under it, along with a miniskirt that was designed to accentuate curves while still managing to look professional enough.

The woman silently watched Tactimon sit opposite of her on a ragged and mothy chair (this condition seemed to be shared with the bar's other furniture as well), the seat creaking as it received his weight. 'Now, time to see if she lives up to my expectations.'

''Shimada Bin, correct?'' The woman asked in a matter-of-fact tone, her low voice finally breaking the silence as she gave him a once-over, seeing her employee finally face to face.

Tactimon nodded. ''Yes. And you must be Kill.''

Other than her overly dramatic cover name, he only knew the woman was a Fallen Angel and quite new in the data broker circles. On his first trip to Earth, she had been one of the many people he had contacted when starting to set up a network of spies and alike for the D5 Division. Browsing the dark web, her short but to-the-point ad had caught his interest.

Setting his bottle of sake down on the worn table, Tactimon felt a slight tingle and heard the upbeat music quiet as Kill set up a magic barrier around the booth to allow them privacy, which he silently approved.

''I overestimated how much time it would take me to come here, hence my early arrival. I'm glad that you decided to be early as well — I don't want to be in this dump any longer than necessary.'' Kill stated impatiently while bobbing her leg up and down.

''This was the most convenient place for me, I have a busy schedule to keep.'' Tactimon explained, not taking offense at Kill's bluntness.

He shared Kill's sentiment. The most merciful thing to do for this bar would be to tear it down and build it anew.

''Busy man I see. No reason to prolong this then. Did you bring the money?''

''Yes. But the material first, as per our agreement.''

Kill's hand reached under the table and showed a USB drive. At first, she was going to slide the drive by the table, but after seeing how dirty and sticky it was from spilled drinks, she decided to hand it to him instead. Pulling out a tablet from his robes, Tactimon connected the data drive to the device and combed over its contents.

'Not bad.' He mused. Everything was quite well organized and easy to go over. His tablet's programs hadn't even found any viruses or spyware while he scrolled over the long list of countless persons' names and profiles as shown on the screen. Most of the people he had asked Kill to collect data for him were unimportant, only given to her to hide the ones he was really after. It never hurt to be careful, as Tactimon liked to think.

Soon, he found the familiar names he'd been searching for.

Amano Kotone

Amano Nene

Aonuma Kiriha

Hinomoto Akari

Kudoi Taiki

Tsurugi Zenjirou

Just as he had expected, none of the people with these names looked like the familiar human Generals he had battled against.

It was disappointing, for he had hoped there to be at least a parallel versions of the humans living here. He was sure they would have shown and proven their spirits' strength and conviction, but alas, it was not to be so.

''I went over every possible population register in Japan and a few other countries that had the matching descriptions you gave. I also looked over the part of Grigori's database I have access to see if there was anything I missed. I hope you found what you were looking for.'' Kill explained and crossed her arms.

''Yes, I believe I have. You've done well Kill.'' Reaching inside his black robes, Tactimon fished out a fist-sized leather pouch and set it on the table's somewhat clean spot. '' 5,000,000 yens worth in gold. As I promised.''

Opening the purse, the Fallen Angel's eyes were briefly engulfed in white light as she eagerly examined the contents before returning to normal. Tactimon guessed this was a spell of some kind to confirm the gold was real, which was indeed a smart thing to do. Being satisfied, she summoned a small portal and whisked her pay in there, the gold now securely stored in whatever pocket dimension it led to. Having magic was really useful, Tactimon once again noted with a hint of jealousy.

''I'll be needing someone who I can entrust to gather specific data in the future as well. Are you interested?''

''I won't say no if the pay will be as good as this. You have something that needs digging, contact me and I'll see what I can do.'' Kill answered, her mood now having improved considerably.

''Good. Expect my call within a week. You may have the sake if you want.'' Tactimon signaled to his untouched drink and rose.

''Alright then. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Shimada-san.''

Exiting the bar, Tactimon wondered where she needed all that money. Perhaps there was some truth in the complaints concerning Grigori's salary policies he'd seen circling in some of the Underworld's message boards when doing his research.

Whatever her reasons, for now, he would use Kill for basic information-gathering. After he had a better picture of the Fallen Angel and if she proved to be trustworthy enough, he would see to her more important tasks. He also reminded himself need to cross reference Kill's data with a few other data brokers he had paid to do a similar job to evaluate how good her skills really were.

But all of that was for later. He still had dozens of other people he needed to meet, many of them belonging to the criminal world, unfortunately. Despite the distaste Tactimon felt from just thinking of dealing with that sort of filth, just like him, they had their part to play in the grand scheme of things.

---

Nilrem's headquarters

"…and that's when the meeting concluded, after which we left the palace, sir."

"I see. Is there anything else you wish to add?" The handsome silver-haired man asked while skimming through the tablet with the two Nilrem's council members' gathered report displayed on it.

''…Lucilio has formally requested a transfer from the representative work to other duties, sir.''

His lips quirked upward upon hearing this. It seems that meeting this Tactimon had really rattled the man. Then again, humans were such weak-minded and pathetic creatures so he wasn't really surprised. Even the one standing before him displayed signs of nervousness.

''Very well. You may locate him in the section currently working on the project Resurrection, we'll be needing more hands there. I also want you to inform the Hexennacht to have their eyes and ears open, just in case. Other than that, the rest of the Nilrem's council can proceed as usual for now.''

''Of course sir.'' The magician bowed and quickly left the room, knowing a dismissal when she saw one.

Being left alone, the silver-haired man set the tablet down. Reaching into his breast pocket, he took out a short loose piece of braided silver hair, the strands shade a bit lighter than his own. Closing his eyes, he rolled the braid between his fingers. Focusing on the relaxing sensation, he leaned against the chair's backrest and let out a sigh.

While not having accounted for Ophis managing to recruit this new unknown and powerful Evil Spirit, Tactimon's inclusion into the Khaos Brigade would change none of his plans. At most, some of them would just be slightly sped up.

Bringing the braid to his nostrils, he inhaled. The intoxicating fragrance of vanilla and her filled his nostrils, giving him goosebumps. The scent was as potent as it was all those years ago when he had received this precious little present, having been just a naive little boy then. With the spells of preservation he had cast on it made sure the hair would stay this way, frozen in time forever.

The familiar smell brought back old memories of wonder, happiness, and infatuation. These were memories of times long forgotten, when things had been simpler and better.

When everything had been as it should, and things still made sense.

Thinking of those times brought nothing but pain to him now. Every single memory was just a reminder of betrayal and loss, when the world around him had crumbled and his life ended. Yet his empty shell was still made to endure and continue its existence.

His expression darkened as he looked at the braid now with disgust. Swiftly, he pocketed the braid back in his breast pocket against his aching chest — away from his gaze, yet never fully leaving his mind.

No, even with this new development, things would proceed according to his, Euclid Lucifuge's, design.

---

Spoiler: A.N.

RAAH! It's alive!

This chapter has been long overdue, but finally, it's finished!

With this, the first act of the story can be considered done. Now that other Khaos Brigade leaders have an idea of what kind of a person Tactimon is, many of them are starting to adjust their plans on how to go forward. Meanwhile, Tactimon himself is busy recruiting people and establishing the D5 Division.

The next two chapters are something I've been wanting to write for a while now, and yes, there will finally be more, proper, interactions between Tactimon and Ophis from here on now. I can also reveal that more familiar faces from the DxD side are going to make appearances very soon.

Fingers crossed that the next chapter won't take over half a year for me to write.

Thank you for reading, reviews are always welcomed, and have a pleasant day!



PS. I've made some additional (and hopefully the last) edits to previous chapters. Nothing major, mostly just correcting grammar errors that caught my eye and doing little re-formatting and dialogue polishing.

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

Spoiler: Digimon Xros Wars OST #34 - Prologue

View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xzsxehweVSM

My name is Tactimon. After stepping onto my last battlefield in the name of my master Bagramon, I finally got to face the ultimate opponent I've always yearned to test my skill and will against.

Felled by the courageous Digimon with the help of their brave human comrades, I thought my life's journey had come to an end with the Digital World soon following. Seeing the reality crumble around me as it was being devoured by a great beast straight from nightmares, I was ready to accept my fate.

But to my great surprise, by means unknown, I somehow evaded death's grasp and ended up in an unknown world where supernatural creatures sharing striking resemblance to us Digimon live in.

Here, my barely surviving remains of data were found by the powerful deity, the Dragon God of Infinity, Ouroboros Dragon Ophis, who offered my old warrior soul a second chance in life in exchange for pledging allegiance to her.

Now, as the last of my kind in a world similar yet different to my own, I serve my new master with a new purpose: to free Ophis' home, the Dimensional Gap, from the control of her archenemy Great Red, who currently resides in there. Her foe is a considerable one, for Great Red is the Dragon God governing Dreams and Illusions, and wields unimaginable power.

While there are others who serve my master with the same goal in mind, I cannot in good conscience say they are acting out of the goodness of their hearts or without an ulterior motive in mind, despite their assurances. Thus, it's my duty to keep a constant watch and ensure everyone follows Her Highness' orders without fail, all so she can finally return to her silent world and find the peace she so craves.

Tactimon out.

---

In the middle of the wilderness, far away from civilization, stood a small and old log cabin. Great lindens surrounded the moss-roofed house that had stood there on guard for centuries.
The old trees had seen many things; they watched how a lone ranger had first arrived in their midst, falling in love with the peaceful scenery, and deciding to build a small hut from which to spend the summers.

As seasons changed and time took its toll, the ranger started to visit less and less, until they stopped coming altogether. Once well cared for, the wooden hut was now slowly succumbing to the elements as nature took back what it had once given, vegetation slowly creeping back where it had been rooted. In time, these lindens would have seen the collapse of the cabin, if not for a new owner having purchased it recently.

It was springtime, and the forest was like an orchestra as bird song filled the air. Trees and bushes' buds were starting to open, and the telltale smell of earth wafted in the air now that the first rains had arrived. Somewhere deep in the forest, a pair of nymphs danced and laughed, celebrating the passage of a cold winter and the coming of summer.

There was no one to see when, for a briefest of moments, a flicker of white light filled the hut's dark interior as a teleportation spell was activated. A moment later, Tactimon materialized in the cramped room, needing to hunch to prevent his helmet's horn from scratching the sealing.

It had been a few days after the samurai had his shape-up meeting with the other Khaos Brigade's faction leaders, and he'd been increasingly busy since then. From making connections to expanding his information network to other, equally paramount things, every moment was spent with the goal of building and preparing the D5 Division. Only the bare minimum did he spend on resting to ensure his performance did not drop.

Much was still needed to be done, and from an ever-growing pile of work his new responsibilities brought to him, three major things needed to be resolved quickly.

The first of Tactimon's hurdles was to secure a steady and big enough influx of money, should he want to keep the Fallen Angel Kill and other data brokers and spies working for him with the higher-than-average pay to speed up the recruitment and expansion of D5 Division's intelligence network.

Thankfully, his monetary problems would soon be over, and he would no longer have to spend as much of his focus making high-risk investments in stock markets, nor the more brazen ways of accumulating fortune — by which Tactimon meant stealing. The samurai Digimon wasn't the only supernatural person residing in the Human World, and he certainly wouldn't want to leave a trail for some mythology's watchdogs to follow and find what he was doing. He just needed a little bit more time to set things up, and then the money would start to flow.

His second hurdle, finding loyal and competent enough underlings, didn't have as promising outlook yet. There was a stark contrast between selling information or services directly to him and actually being part of the D5 Division. But just as Tactimon had expected, there weren't that many people willing to help him to tickle the most powerful Dragon's tail, and from those few who were, even fewer were qualified enough to be considered in the D5 Division ranks without constant supervision (which had to be done by him) to ensure their compliance.

While recruitment rates weren't optimal, they were manageable for now, and Tactimon was confident that with enough effort, he would find the manpower he needed. For the time being, the samurai felt he was more than capable of taking care of the D5's workload.

Most would say Tactimon asked way too much of himself to achieve so many things so quickly, but he knew he was on a timer. Sooner or later, other factions would gain enough courage and start asking the D5 Division for assistance, or more precisely, him. For this reason, he needed everything to be as well prepared as possible if Ophis' new division was to work as intended.

The third and last of the big hurdles was setting up an actual HQ.

At the moment, Tactimon was using easy-to-abandon apartments, rented or otherwise acquired, around the globe with forged IDs. It wasn't a bad strategy in itself, as having your camp move with you allowed flexibility similar to his time in the Bagra Empire, where in his longer Zone conquering campaigns he and his troops lived in tents.

Yet soon, he would need a secure location where all the important documents and artifacts — such as the library Ophis had gifted him (which origins he still wasn't quite sure of) that the D5 Division would eventually acquire and could be safely stored. For this purpose, the stronghold would need to be secure and hidden, with only a few and select having access to it. Good options would be inside a mountain, in a pocket dimension, or preferably, both.

Tactimon pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind. For now, he had something else needing his focus.

The cabin's mismatched floorboards creaked as he walked and pulled a stool next to a table, both a bit too small for him. Sitting, he lit an oil lantern to give some additional light inside the dim interior.

Despite it being a middle of spring and midday, the thick forest surrounding the cabin left no sun-rays through a pitifully small window, which Tactimon believed had been put there to make the room feel less confined than to give any real illumination.

With the cabin's furniture accounted for, he set a portfolio down. 'Now, let's see what Her Highness' loyal subjects have been up to.' He mused and he opened the leather case.

Today was Saturday, eighteen hundred in Pacific time. This meant everyone in the Khaos Brigade should have sent their first weekly reports to him by now.

Despite this being a serious matter, in a certain way, Tactimon had been looking forward to this with glee. He was very curious to see just how those liars would try to twist and sugarcoat their years-long idleness and failure to achieve anything concrete on how to free Dimensional Gap into something that could even distantly be called competency, as well as what their plans were onward on continuing to serve Ophis.

He was going to enjoy pointing out holes and contradictions in their arguments.

While Tactimon was no sadist, he couldn't deny taking some pleasure in the fact that he'd given other factions only a few days to make and turn their reports in, nor that he had set numerous instructions, from a correct format to other very specific things needed included on. It was the first and last wake-up call he was going to give to them to finally start doing some actual work for their master.

Each report was also sent to him on double, one on paper, one electronically, for he liked to have his evidence secure and not to worry about the evidence mysteriously burning or disappearing into the bit-space. And if it made other factions do even more work? All the better in his opinion.

Tactimon took the first of the many reports out of the folder, this one from the Hero Faction. The document was not printed, but rather hand written—

Tactimon looked in disbelief. 'Did they have a child scribble this?' He blinked and leaned closer to inspect the gibberish before his eyes.

On a second look, he noted the that seemingly random strokes did have a sort of recurrence and logic behind them. Indeed, these were some very obscure hieroglyphs that even he couldn't identify off the top of his head.

'That boy...' Tactimon frowned.

From all the Khaos Brigade's faction leaders and representatives he'd seen in the meeting, the descendant of the Chinese warlord had seemed a troublesome one. Once again, his hunch had proven to be correct.

Hero Faction must have thought it to be hilarious, giving a report looking like a kinder-gardener had tried write in cursive. Not that this was against his instructions per se. Since the Khaos Brigade was made from a diverse group of individuals, hailing from the Human World and beyond, Tactimon had the leniency to allow each faction to write their reports in a language of their choosing they were most proficient with. The only requirement was for them to stick to their choice.

He, of course, had expected a possibility of someone from the group of ticks and eels to take advantage of his one lax rule. With the lorgnettes gifted by Ophis, he would have no trouble reading this.

'You give them a finger, and they take the whole hand.' Tactimon sighed as he put the glasses on and began to go over the report's content.

Time went by and things were going swimmingly as Tactimon went over the reports and taking notes for a summary that would go for Ophis. It was therapeutic dotting down main points of achievements everyone had done in the past (most of them blatant lies, he believed, but sadly he had no evidence to back his suspicions) and what they were currently, or in the near future, planning on doing (these were going to be true, him ensuring they'd follow their words).

Reaching for the last report in the folder, Tactimon stopped writing.

'And just might this be?'

Greeting him was another document by the Hero Faction, this one far more thicker and written in Chinese.

Immediately, Tactimon had a bad feeling. This wasn't just some juvenile foolery by Cao Cao, no, something far more serious was at play here. He could feel it as he set the document down on the table with a thump, the brick of a paper making the furniture vibrate with it's weight.

Letting his pen rest for now, Tactimon's full focus went to the mysterious second report and he flipped the first page open.

''…''

With a slightly trembling hand, Tactimon took off his lorgnettes. Looking again, he saw the translating glasses hadn't played tricks on his eyes. The text still read the same.

The birdsong outside stopped.

The forest, full of life moments ago, became dead silent.

Animals froze in place as a sudden feeling of imminent danger washed over them. The smaller creatures scrambled to hide in whatever holes they could find, while the bigger ones tried to make themselves appear as small as possible, if fear hadn't outright immobilized them.

Inside the hut, Tactimon's focus remained on the document's contents. The further he had read, the more rigid his posture became. When the last page finally came, he resembled a bomb threatening to be set off by the slightest of disturbances.

Time crawled by in agonizing slowness as the samurai blankly stared at what he had just read, all the while the forest held its breath. The sun had hidden itself behind clouds, and everyone waited and prayed for the danger to finally pass. Only the lantern's continued soft crackle broke the silence, its flickering flame desperately fighting not to go out.

Before Tactimon was a document, full of evidence of how the many, way too many factions of the Khaos Brigade had lied, used, betrayed, Ophis' trust and goodwill for their petty and selfish goals. It was all there in black and white, far too detailed to be just some joke spun for him.

For this one time, Tactimon would have wanted to be wrong with his suspicions. Now, his worst fears had been proven true.

If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was a traitor. The gravest wrong anyone could do was to betray their master's and comrades' trust, stabbing them in the back.

The only thing worse than a traitor was a group of them. And that if something made him see red.

'Anger is a poor master, do not let it blind you.' Tactimon told himself, and slowly inhaled. His body might not need to breathe, but it was a good meditation method nonetheless. Letting out a long, very long exhale, he imagined the familiar serene bond with its calm and prefect mirror-like surface that reflected away all the imperfections of the world.

Gradually, with few more inhales and exhales, Tactimon could feel himself retain the reins, and started to look at the matter more analytically. He was still angry, furious even, but the raging fire inside him was no longer in control. Rather than clouding his judgement, the cold anger was fueling him, giving clarity and focus.

He had expected some faction to rat out the others to him at some point, but not this soon.

'At this rate, the Khaos Brigade is going to dissolve and crumble to pieces before it has even done anything.' Tactimon griped and started calmly gathering his belongings with methodical precision, but not before crossing over most of his summary, the majority of it useless now. Only the parts pertaining largest of the Khaos Brigade factions were left, for Hero Faction's investigation had no mention of them — not that this brought him any alleviation or joy, only the opposite.

He had originally planned on meeting Ophis tomorrow on Sunday after he had finished summarizing the reports to bring her up to date on everyone's progress, as well as sharing his personal input, but that wouldn't just do now anymore.

Rising, Tactimon turned off the lantern, beginning to cast the teleportation spell. 'Her Highness must be made aware of this at once.' With the flicker of static and a flash, Tactimon disappeared.

It was hours before birdsong could be heard again in the forest.

---

Teleporting to the freezing realm where his master resided, Tactimon activated the middle tanegashima on his back, the gun's barrel beginning to glow with power as thrust was build. Despite it being night with a thick snowstorm currently plaguing the area, the howling cold winds pulling his cape and sash did nothing to hinder the samurai as he shot up and cut through the air.

The poor visibility, along with a dozen-meter thick snow blanket hiding earth that had appeared since his last visit, hid most landmarks that could be used for navigation, but it didn't discourage Tactimon in the slightest. He had made sure to memorize the lands near his master's palace like the back of his hand and knew exactly where to go.

Soaring through the air, Tactimon saw distant lights flickering in the snowstorm. It didn't take a genius to deduce these belonged to the bigger factions' members 'guarding' the HQ, who were using magic and whatnot to allow them warmth and visibility in this challenging weather. He briefly wondered if any of the watchers belonged to the ones on the report.

'How sloppy.'' Tactimon thought in disdain upon seeing the amateurish mistake. If an ambush were to happen, the ones who stood out would be first to be taken out, not that he cared about their lives.

Tactimon knew it was unlikely for any outsider to find the Ouroboros Dragon's realm, for it was even someone of his caliber a bit of a challenge to teleport to here. Why, his very first time returning had went completely sideways, the teleportation sending him right into the Red River1.​ as he later learned through geolocation. Fortunately, there had been no witnesses seeing the samurai, thoroughly decorated by water plants, surfacing and scrambling for land, and thus the shameful incident would follow Tactimon to his grave.

'Should something of that sort happened in my time serving the Bagra Empire…' Tactimon shook his head. He knew Blastmon and Lilithmon would have never allowed him, Bagramon's best and the most competent Head Officer, to live down an amateurish blunder like that.

If the past him, green and new, had been told that in the future, there would be a time he wouldn't need to deal with his fellow Head Officers' and their antics, he would have been most relieved. But the current him, who had served Bagramon with Lilithmon and Blastmon for centuries and come to know them well…

'Strange how you come to yearn the things you hate.' Tactimon shook his head. He needed to clear his mind of these distractions.

Through falling snow, the massive silhouette of Ophis' palace slowly appeared in the distance. With the ongoing weather, he could see how the huge bubble-like magic barrier shielded it, separating the stronghold from the freezing wind and snow, like a reverse snow globe. The realm's sole silver moon, slowly rising, was set behind the palace's largest tower, the crescent-like beacon beckoning him towards it.

Seeing his destination, Tactimon started to descend towards a particular hill situated a few hundred meters away from the stone walls. As important as meeting his master was, there was one thing he needed to check on first.

His boots sank knee-deep in the snow as he landed softly next to an inconspicuous snow pile. Channeling his Head Officer tone he hadn't had the chance to use much as of late, Tactimon's loud voice carried over the howling wind. ''Speros, status report.''

A muffled sound, half groan, half yawn, came from the snow pile as it stirred to life and began to rise. As the white covers slid away, a person was revealed.

''All green here, chief.'' The now-identified Speros replied as she shook the rest of the camouflage off, not that it helped much with the constant snowing immediately starting to build up on her again.

Turning around, Speros' red eyes met Tactimon's visor. The watchman wore a metallic skull mask with a small hole in the middle of the frontal bone; thick winter clothes could be seen under her dark hooded cape with a red interior as it fluttered in the freezing wind. In her gauntleted hands rested a scythe, the weapon's end decorated by a well-polished metal sculpture depicting a ram's head.

Striking her scythe on the snow, Speros started stretching her stiff limbs and continued to speak. ''Aside from the lovely performance down the Castle Grayskull, not much else has happened.''

This was Speros, a Grim Reaper who belonged to a small and obscure doomsday cult Tactimon had happened to run into by chance while headhunting. Learning of this group of lunatics' aim to predict and witness the end of the world had piqued his interest, for they shared the same objective of sorts. After a long series of interviews/interrogations to appraise their characters, Tactimon was satisfied enough and had made the decision to reveal to them the Khaos Brigade's existence and its goal, making an offer for the cultist to join the D5 Division. Explaining how his master, the mythical Dragon God of Infinity herself, was after Great Red's death, and killing it, or at least attempting it, would more than ensure destruction of unimaginable scale in all of creation, the Grim Reapers had gladly accepted his offer. Thus, D5 Division's strength was increased by four more members.

What Tactimon hadn't mentioned was, that while trying to kill Great Red was indeed what Ophis desired, it wasn't on top of his priority list of ways to free the Dimensional Gap — he still didn't know what would happen, should the embodiment of Dreams disappear from the world.

But the cultist didn't need to know any of that. And when it came to his master, Tactimon would inquire Ophis about his worries at a later date, when he felt the time was right.

''That is good to hear. Is anyone currently meeting our Lady in the palace?''

''Nope, she has the place all for herself at the moment! But those screams… haah, just music to my ears! I hope there will be more performances like that in the future.'' Speros shuddered, and not from the colt, as she hugged herself.

'Performances indeed.'' Tactimon drily thought, knowing what the Grim Reaper was referring to. ''Don't count on it.''

The True Satan Faction, along with mentioning it in their report, had also sent a general message to all factions in the Khaos Brigade, boasting how they had managed to locate a few of the other traitor cells — the ones who had recently went to ground after refusing to attend Ophis' convocation — and what they had done to them.

Peering down at the low grounds, about a hundred meters before the palace's gates, Tactimon could see vague outlines poking out amid the snowstorm.

''You think so, boss? That sucks.'' Speros lamented. After a few tries, she managed to fish her phone out from the depths her winter jacket and continued with all too eager voice. ''Well, at least I recorded it all up! You want to see it, boss?''

Tactimon pretended he hadn't heard her. ''Continue your watch duty Speros, I have serious matters needed to discuss with our master.'' Holding the Grim Reaper in a steely stare, he pointed at her. ''While I'll be making a round inside the palace, this does not mean you can be distracted.''

Speros, taken aback by his more than usual seriousness, blinked a few times behind her skull mask as her brain finally registered Tactimon's grim mood, and straightened her posture.

But like a switch, her demeanor returned to its jovial state, if slightly subdued.

''Ay ay, chief!'' Making an exaggerated salute — one used in many action movies, Tactimon had learned — she fell with her back straight into the snow and rolled on her stomach. Lying still as a brick, she was back to watching the palace's entrance, quickly covered in snow again.

Tactimon wanted to sigh, his patience thin at the moment. 'You take what allies you can get.'

She and the other cult members weren't the brightest of the bunch, with a questionable state of minds, but they at least had fallen in line easily enough, taking his brief lessons about military protocols well in heart, Speros a bit too enthusiastically.

Unfortunately, he couldn't be too picky with his subordinates now. As long as Speros and the others continued to display the same level of loyalty and eagerness to follow his command, he would just have to bear with this. But somewhere in the future, he would make room in his busy schedule to hammer her and the rest proper code of conduct and military discipline. This, Tactimon vowed.

Grouching down, Tactimon tensed his legs; being so close to the palace, he didn't need tanegashimas to reach his destination. A small crater formed in the wake of his jump as the samurai went airborne.

The gusts of wind got particularly strong in the low ground between the mountains, but like waves bashing against rocks, the wind did little to hinder his advance. Sailing through the air, gravity finally took over, starting to pull Tactimon down. Nearing the palace gates, he could finally see the work of the Devils and as he landed, a gruesome sight greeted him.

Tall stakes, over six meters in height, were planted on the ground by the dozens in neat rows. On top of these stakes hang mutilated figures, some humans, some supernatural, all crucified upside down, their frozen expressions showing nothing but agony. While life had left their bodies long ago, the howling wind continued to carry their wails.

Tactimon could tell these hadn't been quick deaths.

Before the frozen carcasses stood a sign. A simple word in the Devil's language was written in capital letters.

TRAITORS

Tactimon felt disgusted. The gore didn't bother him, for he had made more than a few of his troops in the Bagra Army an example, from disobeying his direct orders to an outright defection. No, what left a sour taste in his mouth was the clear sadistic pleasure inflicted here.

While the fate for those who would stand in the way of his master's goal was death, the judgment was to be delivered swiftly, for they defended their beliefs just the same as him. Even traitors, the scum of the earth with no principles, deserved that much.

Digimon who had been born with only evil in their hearts, and whose only purpose was to destroy, could bestow this one small blessing, so had Bagramon enlightened him, Lilithmon, and Blastmon as one of his first commandments when the Fallen Angel had begun the Xros Wars. And while his two comrades might not have followed His Highness' teachings as closely, the samurai would always keep his late master's lessons close to his heart.

Tactimon gave one last look at the hanging bodies before turning around. There was nothing he could do for them anymore.

Past a palisade and through the vast courtyard, he finally entered the palace, once again feeling the familiar tingle inside his armor as the magic played tricks on his senses. Once again, Tactimon felt like he was being watched, despite knowing better.

Because the countless runes carved on the obsidian walls made the stronghold a Faraday cage, with no long-distance communication methods working inside the palace, electronic or magical, anyone who entered here would be completely cut off from the outside world. This naturally posed great risk when you didn't trust any of your allies. To address this issue, Tactimon had done a little bit of experimentation and had found a way around the issue.

''Ni no tachi.'' Tactimon softly tapped his sheathed sword twice against the stone floor, releasing a crackle of angry purple energy.

Thousands of years of grudges used in creating Jatetsufūjin-maru materialized at then. From the floor, ten shadows rose and took shape. Thin and skeletal, the ghost warriors wore kasa on their heads and held simple swords and spears, made from the same dark substance the undead themself were made of.

''Guard entrances in pairs and keep yourself out of sight. If someone comes, return to the sword.''

Being part of Jatetsufūjin-maru, the undead shared an innate connection with the weapon, and in extension, with him. The spirits would have little trouble finding back to his sword through the shared bond, and if they were destroyed, he would know.

'You can never be too careful, after all.' Tactimon noted, the sentence being in daily usage by him now.

The undead let out a soft groan as acknowledgment, before blending into the shadows. While the spirits lacked the intelligence to perform more advanced tactics and work, they could manage simple tasks like these on their own.

As the undead spread out, each heading for a different entrance, Tactimon made his way deeper inside the palace complex, his walk brisk.

Navigating through the many corridors and labyrinthine hallways now by memory, taking turns when needed, he finally arrived at the huge metal doors left open, leading to the steep staircase, at which end the throne room waited. After the quick climb and passing through another pair of doors, he finally stood before his master.

Ophis was sitting on her throne, the awkward looking position exact same as when Tactimon had left. As he began to kneel, she spoke. ''You've returned.''

Tactimon fluidly performed his honors before replying. ''Forgive me for returning sooner than agreed, Ophis-sama, but grave and unexpected news has forced me to seek your audience.'' Rising back to his feet, Tactimon proffered the Hero Faction's report full with incriminating evidence. While being a bit taller than an average human, Tactimon had to hold the paper stack over his head with both of his hands so Ophis could reach it from her high seat. ''I fear we have traitors in our midst. Today, I received this document, full of detailed evidence of how the majority of the The Khaos Brigade's factions have been using your goodwill only to further their own disgusting goals.''

''I see.'' Ophis said in monotone as she took the document and started to flip the pages over at a calm pace.

Flip. Flip. Flip. Flip. Flip. Flip. Flip.

Tactimon stood in silent attention, patiently waiting, ready to hear and carry out his master's orders with the fury of a thousand suns currently blazing inside him.

''I have read it.'' Ophis finally said, and stared back at Tactimon with her familiar deadpan stare.

…

As seconds ticked by, Tactimon realized Ophis wasn't going to speak further and was actually waiting for him to speak. He was at a loss for words.

Silence continued as the Dragon and her servant stared each other.

''Ophis-sama, I'm ready to hear your orders on how to handle this matter. Your will is my command.''

''There is no need to act.''

Upon hearing Ophis' answer, the first explanation that came to Tactimon's mind was that this was a test of sorts. His Highness, Bagramon, had a tendency to pose difficult questions and dilemmas to his three Head Officers to solve, many times without any of them even being aware of this, and only learning afterward. Failed or passed, Bagramon always had some wise lessons to share and reflect afterwards, to which Tactimon was ever grateful for being privileged to partake.

Yet, when he looked at the Dragon God, whose expression hadn't wavered, he didn't feel confident saying this was the case.

From the moment Tactimon had understood the real purpose of the Khaos Brigade, a nagging doubt about his master's adequacy at being a leader had wormed inside him. Ophis' means were so… unorthodox, unlike anything he was used to. Why did she do nothing and allow things to become more unfavorable for her goals?

He had squashed these thoughts down then, but now, it was no longer possible.

On his right shoulder rested the loyal and disciplined retainer, telling Tactimon to have trust in his master. On his left shoulder hung the disgusting doubt that whispered in his ear foul ideas, questioning if Ophis even understood the severity of the matter. The two sides weighed heavily on him, threatening to tear the perfect soldier in two.

Tactimon swallowed. He had to be sure. For his master's sake.

''Ophis-sama… I mean no disrespect and feel foolish for even asking this, but aren't you concerned that over half of the cells are deceiving and lying to you, using your gifts for their own benefit?''

''No.''

Her answer came in an instant, without hesitation. Tactimon clenched his fists and forced himself to continue.

''I know it's out of place for a simple servant to question their Lady... but having enemies freely walk inside my master's house, it makes me feel nothing but dread. I implore you, Ophis-sama, to share your reasons, for I can't fathom why.''

It was a great struggle for Tactimon to find the proper yet direct enough words to have his master share her reasons, while not overstepping his place.

Thankfully, Ophis didn't seem to take offense at his inquiry.

''None of you can harm me and thus you pose no danger. I've waited for eons to have my silence back, I can wait for another if needed to. Any progress, however insignificant, is a step in the right direction.''

In a certain way, Tactimon understood where his master was speaking from. Why should she worry about her well-being when she had never faced anyone in her long life capable of hurting her? Ophis was arguably one of the oldest and strongest beings in the universe. Even to an old Digimon like him, ten thousand years would be a long time, but to the Ouroboros Dragon, only a blink of an eye. She was Infinity itself, after all.

But to Tactimon and to everything he stood by, leaving the matter be would be pure poison.

''Is nothing to be done then?'' He asked with a carefully enunciated neutral tone, careful to hide the disappointment he felt towards her.

Yet, it seems he hadn't been careful enough, as something in the way he spoke caught Ophis' attention, as she leaned forward from her big throne. The simple move made his Digicore's pulse quicken — he hadn't meant to offend her!

''The words you said. You are implying a different approach? Explain.'' Ophis black eyes had that same gleam Tactimon had seen a brief glimpse before, now more apparent.

His fear was quickly forgotten as confusion filled him, soon replaced by realization as things finally started to dawn on him.

'Ah, I think I understand now.' Tactimon thought. 'Her Highness is not uncaring or indifferent, just lacking the experience of how to lead. Or so I pray.'

For him not to consider the possibility, to acknowledge his master to not be a genius intellectual similar to Bagramon made Tactimon — along with the shame of how he had once again held her to the same standards as his late master, something he had already vowed not to do — feel strange, very strange indeed. To have a master who didn't know how things would play out, who didn't have everyone run in circles around their schemes, who knew exactly what needed to be done to achieve the wanted cause and effect… Never had he entertained the possibility.

Tactimon's mind was a swirl-wind of emotions, neither good nor bad.

If it was as he now suspected, and Ophis simply had some challenges to see things from different perspectives, the samurai was confident he could make things work out — hopefully.

Focusing back on Ophis' waiting black eyes, Tactimon nodded, filled with newfound determination.

''Of course Ophis-sama. As with the founding of your new division to sublime and better the Khaos Brigade's operation, should your ladyship deemed it so, I believe that eliminating these traitors will have the same results. Adding to that, it'll also encourage those to work harder who,'' Tactimon spat the next words. ''may not be living up to their full potential.''

Tactimon gauged Ophis' reaction, however hard it was.

''A different approach.'' She hummed and tilted her head, a sign Tactimon had identified by now to mean she was in deep thought. ''I approve.''

Hearing this, Tactimon's mind immediately began to conceive a strategy that they could use to root out the rot. The easiest and best way would be for his master to summon the guilty parties directly to the palace so they could be taken care of. It would also sidestep any potential issues of retaliatory strikes or other problems if it were the Khaos Brigade's leader herself who delivered the punishment and not him.

''Go and eliminate these cells then.''

With Ophis' words, all his plans came crashing down, with all the responsibilities shouldered on him.

For her to have so much faith in him, it was both flattering and concerning.

While having mostly free reign was something Tactimon had been used to with Bagramon, His Highness had still been aware of what happened around him, and it was because Bagramon knew he could trust his Head Officers that he allowed such freedom. Tactimon especially, as Bagramon knew the samurai inside and out.

But Ophis?

Even if she'd been inside his mind, seen flashes of his past, how could she be so sure of his trustworthiness? What she said of his loyalty when they had first met had been true, but had she come to the right conclusion by the wrong reasons, or lack of rather? Yes, he was one of the most competent military leaders, that Tactimon would admit without a hint of shame. But competence did not translate to loyalty. How much had she really understood from those memories what she's gleaned?

It wasn't because she was good at reading others, of that, Tactimon was sure now, and it made him very, very worried for his master.

'If Her Majesty automatically assumed I was someone to be trusted, does that mean she thinks the same of everyone else?' The possibility made Tactimon dread.

While it was his duty to help and advise his lord to the best of his ability, if Ophis continued to push all the decision-making to him in the future, the way Tactimon had lived by all his life was threatening to crumble. Should he be calling all the shots, he, the servant, would effectively be the ruler. It was a ridiculous and alien concept, something he just wasn't willing to comprehend. Ophis was his master, and he was the tool, an extension of his Lady's will, nothing more, nothing less. That's how it had always been to the samurai and that's how it should remain.

But with the decision now done, all the samurai could do was to follow through. Tactimon nodded, full of determination to execute Ophis' order.

''As you wish, Ophis-sama. I shall make sure justice is dealt. Before I leave, is there anything else you wish to discuss?'' Tactimon asked as he rose, smoothly adding. ''Along with continuing the search of how to deal with Great Red, of course?''

He had a feeling his master would have repeated the demand of bringing her nemesis' head to her otherwise.

Ophis' eyes darted to his left, where Jatetsufūjin-maru was held. ''Your sword is noisy.''

Tactimon winced. Just like that, his freshly gathered confidence was shattered into millions of pieces as his Lady's words, akin to a sledgehammer, dealt damage more devastating than any real weapon could ever manage.

'Curse me and my inability to make sense of my master's needs, I'm a disgrace of a retainer!' Tactimon disparaged himself over and over again. He had tried hard to find any information about the Ouroboros Dragon to understand her better with the time he could spare from his work, but just like with Great Red, there had been nothing helpful or concrete.

And now, he had paid the price for his ignorance; he had hurt his master.

''My thousands of apologies, Ophis-sama, for I hadn't considered how my sword would affect your senses! I shall make it my top priority to find a way cease it from inconveniencing you.''

Through the shared bond with his dear weapon, he was aware how his other half had become aggravated for daring to be called 'noisy', but he ignored his sword's grumblings, a task easier now that he had a magic chain around it. Far more concerning was the fact he had done yet another slight against his master.

Dismissing Jatetsufūjin-maru, Tactimon felt how the undead soldiers' essence also returned to the blade, no longer guarding the palace entrances. It was very unfortunate, but his master's immediate well-being was more important. With this, his sword hopefully emitted a little less aura, or whatever it was that disturbed Ophis' delicate senses.

Ophis blinked, her head inclining as she looked at Tactimon groveling before her, having practically thrown himself on the cold stone floor. ''Why are you apologizing?''

''Why, you ask?'' It was now his turn to blink behind his helmet as the samurai carefully peered up at Ophis. ''It's only natural for a servant to apologize to their master, Ophis-sama — for the grievous error I've made. To do otherwise would be most disgraceful. Whatever punishment you deem fitting to atone for my failure to serve you, I shall endure without complaint!''

''I see. I accept your apology, Tactimon. You may leave and start your mission now. I'll be waiting for your results.''

'That's it? Her Highness forgives just like that? Or does she mean my atonement will be through dealing with the traitor sects? Am I reading too much into this?' With every new statement from her, Tactimon was caught flat-footed. Even Bagramon had never made him this confused with his subtle tests and intricate riddles.

Fearing for his constantly barraged mental fortitude, Tactimon accepted Ophis' words without further questioning. No matter what, he would still do his utmost best, for his master deserved nothing more than perfection.

''I thank you for your forgiveness, Ophis-sama. I will not disappoint you.''

Slowly, Tactimon got up, executed a deep bow, and then took his leave, all this carried out with an unbelievable finesse and grace from someone who had just experienced an emotional rollercoaster.

The samurai now had two priority missions from Ophis: making his sword less disruptive for her senses and wiping out the treasonous cells — and one equally, if not more important task from himself.

This meeting had cemented that things as they were could not continue sustainably when it came to his master, no; something needed to be done about the Ouroboros Dragon's lack of understanding of how to govern her subjects.

Luckily, Tactimon had just the thing in mind for his next meeting with her.

But first, he had some pest control about to be done.

---

Unknown to Tactimon, Ophis' gaze was fixed on her retreating servant. Even after disappearing from sight, she continued to watch him with her other senses, till the Digimon finally teleported away from the realm.

These interactions with her newest servant continued to make her very, very confused. First, he would ask her to say something and then apologize for it? It didn't make any sense to Ophis. She had just told him the truth: his sword was noisy. But so were many other things, majority of those mostly bearable and something she could ignore — unlike that big, dumb lizard, currently making a racket in her only place of tranquility.

Neither did she understand how his emotions changed in color (for she felt them easiest to conceptualize as such) almost as rapidly as the Dimensional Gap's spectrum. Did all Digimon have such colorful minds?

Puzzling for sure, but it was alright for her. Ophis might have trouble understanding mortals and lesser beings, but Tactimon didn't. The Digimon had promised to take care of things, and she trusted him to do what was right.

While she didn't understand his eccentricities, she didn't feel bothered by them, quite the opposite. It had felt… nice, to be asked her opinion, something the other Khaos Brigade members never did.

For the first time in millennia, Ophis looked forward to speak again with certain someone.

---

1. ​A river from Chinese mythology.

Spoiler: A.N.

Finally got this one done.

Alright, confession time. I wasn't able to keep my hands away from the old chapters and I did some minor edits to them, once again mostly grammar. The only thing that's actually important to the plot is in chapter 4 where Sirzech mentioned to Ajuka that he met Rias during her Winter break, which is now changed to Spring break.

This means that DxD's canon timeline is starting very soon, and while this speeds things up as well as crams up coming events I had planned, I feel it's better this way.

And huzzah, it didn't take me half a year to update again (only five months)!

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

Germany

Skulking inside an abandoned industrial building, Berhold Götz let out a long sigh, blowing the warm air into his cupped palms. While Spring was slowly arriving and days were getting warmer, April's nights could be quite deceptive with how chilly they got, especially this year's.

Adjusting his beanie, Berhold blew another breath into his hands. He watched how the condensed vapor danced in the air, it's carefree swirls illuminated by a dimly shining, floating ball of light he had conjured to allow him see in the otherwise windowless concrete hall. As quickly as the small vapor cloud had been birthed, it dissipated, swallowed by the surrounding darkness.

'Should've worn gloves and something warmer coming here. Hopefully, I don't catch a cold here.' Berhold grumbled.

Yet the cold was the least of his concerns.

Berhold's long exhales, while keeping his fingers from becoming numb, were also an attempt to try and keep the young mage calm. He would need his wits soon enough.

Just a few month's back, Berhold Götz had passed Rosenkreuzer's — one of the most famous and respected magician organizations in the world — entrance exam, if barely. Nevertheless, Berhold was proud of his accomplishment. Not many managed to be qualified in Rosenkreuzer's ranks, their infamously hard and brutal entrance exams, both the theoretical and practical part, having one of the highest failure rates.

With the acceptance into the Rosenkreuzer, Berhold's career as a magician should have been set. Just being a member opened so many doors and job opportunities for him that in a short amount of time, he had more than enough money to purchase his own laboratory where he could do his private alchemist research.

Unfortunately, a disastrous mistake burned Berhold's future to ashes.

In the wizarding world one's success — especially if you happened to be a researcher of arcane arts — heavily dependent on the pacts you made with the supernatural, as having a backer who could provide you with connections and materials humans normally couldn't get their hands on was a must have. In turn, the fruits of the magician's research and innovations were shared with their backer, benefiting them in return. Not surprisingly, this also made the competition to very harsh.

For this purpose, countless certificates, unions and official ranking systems had been devised over the hundreds of years since the birth of modern magic to ensure fair deals between magicians and beings of supernatural. The most popular and high-regarded ranking system was invented in the medieval times by one of the first magician organizations, Grauzauberer. While initially created with only the Devils and humans in mind, due the system's widespread use, reliability, and the ever increasing number of competitors offering their own alternatives, other supernatural beings had been slowly allowed in, if with some limitations.

Unfortunately, even with the many safeguards put in place, completely preventing unfair deals from happening wasn't possible. Many entities — Devils, Fays, and Jinns to name the most infamous ones — were cunning, and while the very risk of loosing your life and soul due to a loophole were worries mostly left in the past, inexperienced and careless mage could found themself in a situation where they became indebted to the other party for a lifetime.

Berhold Götz was one of those unfortunate cases.

After his admittance to Rosenkreuzer, Berhold was soon contacted by a High-Class Devil, who offered a deal so good Berhold simply couldn't let it pass. Too late did he find out the true nature of the contract, and by then he had already found himself in the most disadvantageous position. Much was required of him and little was returned in kind, Berhold needing to work day and night doing research just to pay the debt he had been tricked in. As time passed, the Devil's demands became more and more difficult to fulfill, then outright impossible, and soon he was forced to sell his property.

Berhold had been too afraid ask for help from his colleagues, since technically, he was in the legal grey area for making a deal with someone who wasn't a registered in one of the Rosenkreuzeur's approved contract systems (Berhold had checked). There was also a real danger his 'bisness partner' could seriously besmirch Berhold's family name for any future endeavors, since the Devil was part of a noble house.

As things started to become dire, so did Berhold's attempts to free himself from the Devil's grip. The desperation drove him to seek help of any kind, for he feared what would happen when the day he was no more use for the Devil came.

Browsing through questionable channels, Berhold inquired rogue exorcists, hitmen specialized in taking down supernatural, anyone who would be willing to deal with the highborn Devil. After few failed negotiations, his search had yielded a result. A group of magicians calling themselves Hermetic Cryptids would happily help him out, but only on one condition: Berhold would have to join them.

At first, Berhold was unsure of the offer. He had never heard about Hermetic Cryptids, and he heavily suspected them to be one of those rogue magician's groups who did all kinds of shady experiments Rosenkreuzeur had warned about. Yet, being short on money, food, and any kind of hope stopped him from outright rejecting the deal. After a few days of pondering over the offer, Berhold finally accepted. It was this or loosing his life.

Which brought the nervous magician back to the present, inside the abandoned factory he was instructed to arrive to be picked up by these Hermetic Cryptids.

''Okay, Berhold. You got this. Just act professional, don't say anything offensive and you're good.'' Berhold muttered to himself, his breathing exercise switched to pacing around the concrete assembly hall to try and expend the nervous energy building inside him. ''I mean, you already have it bad. What's the worst that could happen by joining an unknown, probably criminal organization of dubious origins?''

The echo of his steps' was the only answer.

After few more minutes of nervously shuffling back and forth, a glowing teleportation circle with an unfamiliar emblem depicting a winged staff appeared. 'This must be them.' Berhold thought, ceased his worrying thoughts and got closer.

From the teleportation circle, a woman stepped forth. She wore a typical magician's robes, dark blue in color which blended well in the dark. With the garbs hood pulled over her head, Berhold could only see her frowning lips.

Seeing the stern expression made him immediately regret he had sold his own robes some time ago. Worn jeans, cheap stiched jacked and smirched beanie, while did made him inconspicuous and kept him somewhat warm, didn't give the image of a professional magician. If anything, he looked more like a beggar or homeless person, which actually wasn't that far from the truth.

The woman's gaze swept the assembly hall from corner to corner, before finally landing back on him. Berhold could feel her expectant glare beneath the hood.

Few beats of silence followed before, belatedly, Berhold remembered what he'd been instructed to do, and awkwardly cleared his throat.

''I seem to have lost my wallet… Have you seen it?'' Berhold spoke, just as he'd practiced over dozens of times.

''Can't say I have. Can you describe what it looks like?'' The woman replied without missing a beat.

''W-well, it's purple with a cute kitty sticker on it, and I have about twenty euros there… and a spent gift card.'' A blush started to appear on Berhold's cheeks, and not from the chilly temperature.

'Who in the world comes up with lines like this!?'

The woman curtly nodded in what he took as an approval. ''Berhold Götz it is then. It's good to see at least one of our recruits manages to follow instructions. Now then, I'll be brief with you. There's been a change of plans, so instead of just the two of us, we'll wait for few more of our members to arrive here and then we'll set off.''

The woman's voice was strained, sounding a bit agitated. Had she already made up her mind about him? If she had, Berhold hoped it wasn't a negative one.

''Okay then...'' Berhold nodded. ''Can I ask what's going on, if you don't mind? About the change of plans, I mean.''

The woman sighed, clearly vexed. ''Like I said, there has been a change of plans. All members have been ordered back to the headquarters, and that includes everyone, new recruits and all.''

''Wait, everyone?'' Berhold blinked in surprise. ''Why? Did something happen?''

''That doesn't concern you. Now be quiet and dim your light sphere, we don't want any unwanted attention here.'' The woman snapped.

Berhold frowned at the undeserved rudeness, but held back a retort, and did as told. 'It's definitely my clothes. I knew it was a mistake to sell them.'

Berhold spent the next few minutes in an uncomfortable silence, while the woman constantly checked the time on her phone. Just when Berhold found the courage to speak again in hopes of explaining the reason of his current shoddy attire, foot steps on gravel came from a nearby fire exit.

''Stay behind me.'' The woman ordered and stepped in front of Berhold, who was more than happy to obey.

From the fire exit, two magicians stepped in. The pair wore similar dark blue robes as the woman, their downed hoods completely hiding their faces. The only distinguishing feature between the newcomers was a head of a height difference.

''That's far enough.'' The magician woman spoke, signaling with her hand to stop as she conjured additional sphere of light, directing it's light at the new arrivals.

As the two magicians halted their approach, the taller one spoke with a raspy voice, ''I have seem to lost my wallet. Have you seen it?''

Berhold wanted to groan.

After the familiar exchange of words, Miss Grumpy and Mister Tall, as Berhold had dubbed them, exchanged some sort of an additional secret handshake. To Berhold, all intricacies were lost, the greeting reminding more of a thumb war with no clear winner. With the rite completed, the woman's tense posture relaxed.

''It's good to see you Randalf. Have you heard anything about the others?''

''Same can be said to you, Albey,'' The tall magician, Randalf apparently, spoke before shaking his hooded head.''And no, nothing. I was just told to come here to be picked up.''

''Damn it. That's what I feared.'' Albey cursed and rubbed her forehead. She cast a brief glance at Randolph's short companion before addressing the man again. ''Well, it can't be helped. I hope they have a good excuse ready for the High Council.''

Wasting no time, Albey's hands began to glow as she started to cast a teleportation spell. ''Get ready, I'll be sending us to the headquarters now.'' With the spell complete, Albey motioned to Berhold and others to step closer.

Randolph and his magician companion were first to step inside a glowing sigil appearing beneath Albey's feet with Berhold shortly following suit.

''Stand still.'' Albey said as the their surroundings became blurry.

When things took shape again, the cold and dark industrial building was switched to a lobby of an old manor. The room tastefully decorated with beautiful paintings, expensive vases and such signaling wealthiness the owner of the estate possessed, yet still managing to give it a homely feel.

But these were secondary to Berhold. What caught his attention were a number of comfy looking armchairs tactically placed near a fireplace, if unfortunately unlit. The seats called Berhold, beckoning him to rest his aching and cold limbs on the soft padding after having spent so long outside waiting to be picked. He could already feel himself getting sleepy now that he was in warm.

Clicking of heels against parquet brought Berhold back to reality. Turning around, he saw Albey and Randolph briskly walk away. When he was about to follow, Albey happened cast him a look over her shoulder.

''Berhold, you'll be staying here and wait till I or someone else comes back to pick you. Don't even think about wandering off from this room, or you'll be targeted by one of the guard golems.'' Albey's tone left no room for argument.

Berhold stopped in his tracks, and he helplessly watched as the two magicians disappeared behind a corner.

''Wow. What a great start.'' Berhold muttered and slumped in one of the leather chairs, letting out a pleasant sigh as he sank in the soft cushion. Maybe he could take a quick nap before he was needed?

He then remembered that the tall man, Randolph, had another magician with him. Opening his eyes, he started to search around the lobby, spotting them leaning against a wall near a window with their arms crossed with their staff next to them.

'Huh.That guy is probably a newbie too if they're not allowed to go either.' Berhold reasoned. Curious of the other party, as well as hoping to make at least one good impression for today, he waved to get their attention.

Seeing the magician's hooded head turn towards him, Berhold gave a friendly, if nervous, smile.

''Hi there. I'm Berhold Götz. I'm kinda new here — if you didn't guess that already.'' Berhold gave an awkward chuckle. ''Uh… have you been a member of Hermetic Cryptids for long?''

---

Albey Bridline, an expert witch excelling in a three different branches of numerical magic, and a respected senior member of the Hermetic Cryptids, descended underground tunnel with her colleague, Randolph Helzer.

The manor itself was nothing more than just a front for their organization, their real lair and laboratories located deep beneath the estate's grounds, only accessible through the wine-cellar, cleverly hidden behind a shelf of vintage Algerian wine.

Now with just the two of them, Albey felt appropriate to ask about a certain thing on her mind.

''I'm surprised, Randolph. I wasn't aware you had taken an apprentice. If I remember correctly, you were against the idea the last time the idea was brought up by the High Council?''

Her tall colleague gave a noncommittal shrug. ''I've spent some time thinking over it and in the end decided to give it a try. I'm allowed to chance my mind once in a while, am I not? Besides, this one shows some promise.''

''Of course.'' Albey nodded and gave a knowing smile. ''I hope you'll allow me to properly introduce myself to them after this. I'm quite curious on just what kind of an apprentice Randolph 'the lone wolf' would accept.''

Her colleague sighed and shook his head.

''Let us focus on the getting over the meeting first.'' Randolph said, clearing his throat.

''If you say so. Though, you ought to do something about that throat of yours. You sound horrible. You know, I think I have just the right potion for a sore throat like that, if you want to try that is.''

''It's nothing to worry about.''

Albey would have wanted to continue the conversation, but two had by now reached the end of their passage. Before them, a small rectangular-shaped cave about four bodies wide greeted them, carved in from the same bedrock as the tunnel itself. In the middle of the cave was man-sized hole with a latter peeking out of it.

''Yes, you're right. But try to get that throat checked, will you?'' Albey half-teased.

''Nothing a good night-sleep wont take care of.'' Randolph said.

''Alright then, Randolph.''

Walking inside the little cave, Albey ignored the hole. It was nothing more than a trap with a few nasty spells placed on the bottom of it, ready to set off for any unlucky intruder. Placing her palm on a specific part of the coarse stone wall, she whispered the secret phrase trusted only to the the most loyal and trustworthy members of the Hermetic Cryptids.

''Open sesame.''

As the words left her lips, bedrock began to rumble, and a massive rectangular piece of stone slid away from the wall, the movement of several tons of rock making the whole chamber quake.

Albey stepped aside to allow Randolph to enter. She raised an eyebrow when he shook his hooded head and instead motioned her with his hand.

''Ladies first.''

''My, aren't you a gentleman today.'' Albey snorted. Perhaps taking an apprentice had some positive influence on him.

Walking past the entrance, a circular dome-shaped chamber opened up before Albey. On the back of the chamber was a raised platform, where the High Council's members sat. The platform was surrounded by a rows of seats, with small desks arranged to form a semicircle. Unlike the manor above, this booth of theirs was comparatively bare, with their banner of caduceus that hung on the ceiling being the only notable decoration.

Not surprisingly to her, the room was mostly full, about fifty people Albey's quick count, with only a few free seats left.

Briefly taking the scene, Albey could describe the atmosphere here with one word: anxious. Quite a few of her colleagues had their arms crossed or fingers drumming against table, while some restlessly shifted in their seats.

A couple of magicians turned to look at Albey after hearing her enter, giving the witch an asking look. Albey shrugged in response, being as equally in the dark of the emergency meeting's agenda as the others, only knowing that this was something serious.

''Are you coming, Randolph?'' Albey asked and looked back at the entrance when she didn't hear him follow.

''Ah, yes. Apologies. I lost myself in a thought.'' Randolph rasped and hurried inside.

Behind him, the big slab of stone slid back in place, forming an airtight seal. Unlike in the tunnel, none of the rumbling or quaking reached inside the chamber, the many tons of rock moving as quietly as a well oiled hinges, thanks to the many magic seals and barriers placed inside the chamber.

Albey frowned as Randolph caught up with her.

''Are you sure you're feeling well?'' She asked after she and Randolph sat down in the back row.

''Yes, I'm quite alright. There's just been quite a lot going on recently.''

''If you're sure…'' Albey said, not fully buying Randolph's words.

But before she could speak more, from the raised platform, one of the High Council members, arch-mage Sibelion, an elderly magician with a balding head rose, and signaled the meeting to began. Whispering died as Sibelion swept his gaze through the attendants, and as the arch-mage leaned against a table, Albey could see even from the back seat how taut his expression was.

''Most of you must be wondering why the abrupt summon. Let me get straight to the point.'' Sibelion's old measured voice further cemented to Albey's that something serious was indeed in the works. Clasping his hands, the arch-mage continued with a serious expression. ''In the past a few days, there's been a growing lack of communication from our fellow sister associations in the Khaos Brigade. As of this morning, the High Council has been able to confirm that Élus Coëns, Preservers of Thelema, and Inheritors of Zosimos have been completely wiped out.''

Gasps and murmurs filled the room.

'Wiped out? How was that even possible?' Albey was shocked. Just a two days ago she had a meeting with some of Élus Coëns members.

''Adding to that,'' Sibelion raised his voice to regain others attention. ''as of today, few of our top members have gone missing. So I hope everyone understands how severe the situation is.''

It was no news to Albey that many groups and factions were after them. More then once Hermetic Cryptids had to move their base of operations to avoid getting caught. But for someone to make multiple targeted attacks against so many groups, especially since they all were part of the Khaos Brigade...

Albey's musings were put to a halt when the room finally exploded with cries of disbelief and anger, as magicians yelled left and right.

''Wiped out? What do you mean, wiped out!? How can you be so sure of this?''

''Who's behind this!?''

''Grigori must have sent another black ops team after us!''

''It has to be Nirlem or those damn Old Satans, the haughty bastards have finally decided to make their move!''

''No! Think people, think! It has to be that new member, Tactimon! Ouroboros Dragon having just informed of him joining us, and now these attacks? He's trying to seize all Dragon God's power for himself!''

''Brothers and sister, please calm down!'' Sibelion yelled and banged his fist against the table. It took a few minutes before the magicians finally calmed down enough for the arch-mage to continue, with a considerably hoarser voice. ''The more we argue, the more we waste time! While we are doing our best reaching out to our other allies for a clearer picture, it is imperative we also act now to preserve ourselves. Yes, this has indeed taken us by surprise, but we have accounted for the possibility of something like this happening. What we'll do now is to gather everything important and then we'll retreat to our backup base where we — please sit down and let me finish, fellow brother.''

Albey was confused why Sibelion was looking at her, before realizing that the elder's gaze was not focused on on her, but rather next to. Looking to her left, she saw Randolph had risen from his seat.

''Randolph, what are you doing?'' She hissed.

To her frustration, her colleague ignored her, and began walking towards the platform.

''Randolph, come back you idiot!'' She tried again, but her words fell on deaf ears.

The echo of Randolph's steady foot steps was soon joined by confused murmuring and a few other members tried to tell Randolph to sit back down, but the man made no move to acknowledge these.

'Of all the places for him to act like this...' Albey knew Randolph wasn't in the best of terms with most of the High Council, but this was uncharacteristic even for him.

''Brother, if you wont return back to your seat, you'll —''

''I believe,'' Randolph's voice, quiet and clear with none of the rasping previously found cut off what ever Sibelion was about to say, ''I know the reason for these disappearances.''

''You do? Explain yourself, brother.'' Sibelion said,as his annoyance was replaced by confusion.

''A document with some very concerning content was sent to me. See for yourself.'' Randolph said and threw a paper talisman on the table right before the High Councilors. The magic took effect, and in the thin air appeared dozens of various floating documents, large enough even for Albey in the back row to read their contests. Along the dozens of these magnified documents were pictures of numerous members of their group.

Cold sweat began to form on Albey's brown.

All the documents and the pictures showed Hermetic Cryptid's past activities. Their auctions selling Ophis' snakes in the black market to the highest bidder, how they had leaked some of the other Khaos Brigade's members plans to authorities to get rid of their competition — it was all there, with exact dates and all.

''By the founders…'' One of the High Councilor's uttered.

Once again, the room exploded with uproar.

''Who the hell has been spying on us!?''

''This is disaster! The whole Brigade will be on us!''

''They already are you idiot, or did you forgot what was just said!?''

''To think that for years, we've had a spy in our ranks…'' High Councilor Neeva, sitting on Sibelion's right, said. She stared blankly at the floating document before her face twisted in rage. Slamming her fist on the table, Neeva turned to Sibelion. ''I knew we've never should've accepted the offer to join the Khaos Brigade! I told you it was a mistake to join that stupid Dragon Ophis, didn't I? It was only a matter of time before someone finally decided to have enough of playing pretend and make a move against us! Now all our dirty secrets are out and open!''

''I demand to know know who in the High Council were in favor to join the Khaos Brigade!'' Someone yelled from the back seat.

''Silence! Silence I say!'' Sibelion yelled with his whole face red now, both to the participants as well as his fellow council members, gathering all the authority the elder could. As exclamations and jeers slowly whittled down, Sibelion's attention shifted back to Randolph. ''How in the seven Hell's did you came to posses these documents?''

''The same way as the other traitors' disgusting activities.'' Randolph told and pulled his hood down.

So many questions swirled inside Albey's head, yet they all froze in place when the face of her grey eyed and bearded colleague wasn't revealed. Instead, a samurai helmet with sharp angles greeted the participants. The helmet's face plate, forged into an eternal frown, with two burning yellow eyes shining from the helmet's socked, full of fury, beheld the chamber's occupiers.

''No… it's… it's you…'' Sibelion said.

Albey's pupils dilated with recognition. After the Ouroboros Dragon's abrupt summon, the High Council had informed her and other high-ranking members of the samurai. Their description like a glove to the one before her.

''Indeed.'' Tactimon said.

As the arch-mage's continued to gasp and find words, Tactimon turned to address rest of the room.''What you have just admitted will be considered, and used, as evidence for your betrayal of Her Highness and the Khaos Brigade as whole.''

To further stress his point, Tactimon reached in his robes and pulled out a voice recorder, holding it out for everyone to see. ''Considering the seriousness of your crimes, the penalty will be most severe.''

Albey could feel invisible pressure beginning to settle in the chamber. Her very soul felt like it was being suffocated.

''W-wait. You can't seriously believe those papers are true. We would never do something to endanger the Khaos Brigade! A-and I didn't mean any offense for the Great Ophis, it was a lapse of judgement!'' High Councilor Neeva pleaded.

"Insulting our master and benefactor is the least of your concerns, High Councilor. Hermetic Cryptids have done many things, none of which have helped Ophis or her goal. On the contrary, your actions have jeopardized the Khaos Brigade's safety, and like disgusting parasites, you've been leeching our master's precious gifts, of which could have been put to infinitely better use.''

Albey had to get out of here, right now — she knew her life dependent on it. She started to cast an emergency teleportation spell, designed exactly for scenarios like this one, meant to work despite their base's many anti-scrying and teleportation barriers. When activated, she would be forcefully whisked to one of their safe houses.

To her alarm, the spell formula only flickered briefly before dying. Few more times brought the same result.

''These documents, evidence all made up! We will appeal to Ophis!'' Someone yelled.

Swiftly rising from her seat, Albey backed away towards the exit, the ever rising oppressive dread making her legs weak. Everyone else seemed transfixed on the samurai, the fear and shock rooting them in their seats, but Albey couldn't afford to care about her colleagues. Nothing else mattered in her mind right then than getting as far away from here as possible.

Reaching the wall where the exit was, Albey placed her palm against the cold stone.

''Se… Se-sam…'' Her whole mouth felt taught and not wanting form the words.

''By the Ouroboros Dragon's direct blessing, I am exacting her will on this matter. One of your member's, Randolph, has already confirmed everything I showed here. And now I have even further proof.''

''If it's our research and treasure you want—'' Sibelion had finally found his voice, but was once again cut off.

''Didn't you listen? Only one path awaits those who turn their backs to Her Highness, and I'm here to deliver that judgement. The only thing left for you to choose is wether you face your end with honor or not.''

''Sesam. Open.'' Finally, she managed to say the password! She would be safe.

''Kill him! Kill him now!'' Sibelion could be heard yelling behind her, followed of numerous magic spells being cast as the crackle of ire and lighting made themself known. But it was alright, she would be out of the chamber soon and then she would be safe.

To Albey's great distress, the door didn't open.

'Why… WHY WONT IT OPEN?'

Woosh!

A sound similar that of a whip being struck rang, and the whole room fell silent.

Behind her, Albey heard multiple soft thuds.

She then felt light and numb, and began to slump down.

Darkness consumed her vision.

---

Surveying his work, Tactimon lowered his arm. With a single strike of his palm, all the disgusting traitors had been dealt with.

''Ni no tachi.'' Summoning his sword, he tapped it twice against the stone floor, and as the familiar purple electricity crackled around the scabbard, few dozen of his gangly undead soldiers rose, ready to serve their master.

''Collect their heads and bring them upstairs. Secure anything of value for transportation.'' Tactimon ordered some of the soldiers, motioning the rest to follow him as the Digimon made his way towards the exit, carefully avoiding the puddles of blood. With a tap of his scabbard, stone moved aside, and the exit hole revealed once again.

The paper talisman he had placed on the other side of the chamber's entrance had done it's work on preventing any escapees, just as the magic barrier outside the manor grounds preventing teleportation he had ordered to be erected.

These last few days had been filled with nothing but him hunting down traitor cells with mainly the assistance of the Grim Reaper cultist which Tactimon had deemed capable enough. Planning and executing these decapitation strikes in quick succession had been vital to ensure no survivors escaped the net he laid out when the news started to spread, and while the shortage of underlings had posed some challenges, with some intense all-nighter spent planning as well as some improvisation on the fly, everything had fallen into place; his goal of keeping the number of traitors escaping in zero had hold perfectly. His master, Ophis, deserved nothing less. Now, with the Hermetic Cryptids dealt with, he could finally focus back on his actual mission on reclaiming the Dimensional Gap.

Making his way back to surface, Tactimon ordered more of his undead soldiers to spread out and neutralize what traps and security remained around the manor grounds. After that, the Grim Reapers keeping up the barrier would join in and ransack the hideout from anything useful, followed by the Hermetic Cryptids' secret underground facilities destroyed and buried, leaving only the abandoned estate with none the wiser.

Returning to the lounge, Tactimon saw Speros still in her disguise and having an animated conversation with the human magician, Berhold Götz. Currently, she was wildly gesturing with her hands while the boy was trying to keep up with the conversation.

''...and after delivering a roundhouse kick, Kaben Rider Pinky uses her special attack to obliterate the Fright Master! It was so cool, she went like wooh and wham, and—''

''Speros. We are finished here. Go help the undead prepare the evidence downstairs.'' Tactimon said.

''Ay ay, err, I mean yessir!'' Speros nodded, before turning back to Berhold. ''Well, it was nice chatting with you!''

With a snap, Speros' blue magician robes morphed back to her original black Grim Reaper ones and her metallic skull mask could once again see shining under the hood. Speros tightly grasped her wooden staff with her gauntlets, now revealed to actually be her scythe in disguise. Brandishing her weapon, she was visibly vibrating with excitement.

''W-what the hell!'' Berhold exclaimed and took a step back.

Tactimon motioned one of his undead soldiers. ''You, show her the way. When you are done, inform me.''

''Come on, come one, lets go! Lead the way little soul!'' Giggling madly, Speros pulled the undead by the arm as she left.

Speros, like the rest of the Grim Reapers death cultist who had joined the D5 Division, had proven useful for these more messier tasks, that Tactimon couldn't deny. Especially Speros as she didn't shy away from blood or death — quite the opposite.

''Remember Speros, you are now part of the D5. Do not get carried away down there.''

''Yes, yes, of course boss…'' Speros' happy demeanor somewhat fell upon hear Tactimon's warning, before she perked back up. ''Oh, by the way, what about that human, should we kill him too? Ooh, can I kill him?''

Tactimon turned to look at Berhold, who had been ignored throughout the conversation. Currently, the boy was hyperventilating in a corner.

''I will deal with the boy. Focus on your task.''

---

Berhold's mind struggled to make sense of the situation. Just a moment ago he was having a conversation — more like listening as she talked— with a fellow, if a bit weird, magician about anime. Except she wasn't a magician but a Grim Reaper! Worse, without he even noticed, he became surrounded by Evil Spirits, lead by a necromancer who carried a sword bigger than Berhold!

The malevolence along with the distinct metallic scent of blood wafting from the necromancer filled primal part of Berhold's brain with dread, making his head swim. His knees gave way and slumped against a wall. He would have thrown up had he not come here with an empty stomach due to rationing his food.

The necromancer said something, but Berhold wasn't listening. 'Did… did that Devil finally find me? Did he send these people after me?'

When the necromancer knelt next to him, Berhold was sure he was finished. ''No! Please, don't kill me! I beg of you! I'm sorry I run away, I won't do it again! T-this all? I had no idea! I don't want to loose my soul to a Devil! ''

''Boy.'' The necromancer spoke. ''You seem to be mistaking me for someone else. I am here at the behalf of my master, the Ouroboros Dragon, Ophis, to eliminate a group who betrayed her.''

''Ouroboros Dragon? I-I don't understand... I just got recruited today!''

Berhold didn't know how long they stared at each other. The time had lost meaning for him as he looked at those fiery eyes, searching who knows what. When the necromancer finally rose up, Berhold let out a tired breath. He was filled with strange peace and acceptance.

''If you are going to kill me, please be quick.''

''Do not fret, Berhold Götz. I know you are speaking the truth and have nothing to fear.'' The necromancer said.

It took a few beats for Berhold to understand what was said. Getting his breath somewhat under control, he dared to look up at the necromancer.

''I don't?''

''No. But you have a choice to make.'' The necromancer leaned, and Berhold instinctively pressed his back against the wall.

''You will be made to forgot any of this happened, and will be sent back to where the Hermetic Cryptids picked you from. It will seem as if you fell asleep waiting for them when you wake up, the whole affair appearing as just a scam. You can continue your life as it was. Or,'' The necromancer offered Berhold his gloved hand. ''you can join us in serving our master, the Ouroboros Dragon, in our quest to make her wish realized. Should you prove yourself in her eyes, you will be granted power of which you can't even start to imagine.''

Berhold stared the necromancer's glove.

He could return back home…

Home.

What awaited him at home? He would be back to square one, constantly looking over his back while living in squalor, fearing when the Devil would come for him. There was nothing waiting him back home.

Berhold bit his lip. He had already thrown his lot with the Hermetic Cryptids. Would it really be any worse if he did it again?

Berhold gulped. ''Can I... is it possible to think this over for a bit?''

''You will have time till we are finished here.'' The necromancer rose back to his impressive height, signaling two of his Evil Spirits. ''Keep an aye on him while I'm gone.''

As the necromancer walked away, Berhold took a deep breath. He couldn't help but let out a nervous giggle at how radically his whole life had changed in just a couple of months.

'I really wish I hadn't sold my robes.'

---

Spoiler: A.N.

Kept you waiting, huh?

I initially debated if I should post this chapter or not, but I felt like doing some show not tell on how Tactimon deals with the (known) traitors instead of just mentioning it in a pass. Plus, writing this helped me get back into the right headspace after such a long break.

I also wasn't sure if should I include Berhold, but decided to keep him in the end, as he's a minor role to play in the future, as you might have guessed already. There might be some more oc's appearing, but they are there to give more life and expand the world. Some will have more plot relevance than the others, but they wont be taking the spotlight from canon characters, which this story's main focus will be, and who'll be slowly introduced as the story proceeds.

So yeah, not much happened in this chapter as it is more of a lead up for the next few parts. First draft is already done, so lets hope it wont be another year for me to get it finished.

Have a nice day and take care of yourself!

 

[Lewdhandholding]

Most interesting DxD fic I've seen to date. Never thought I'd be shipping a Digimon and Ophis, but here I am.

 

[Runic Ebony]

I really want more of this as soon as possible!

I don't know why but Ophis and Tactimon are just so cute in their interactions with each other, even thought they're both perpetually confused, it's an earnest confusion! Need more interactions! Stat!

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

Most interesting DxD fic I've seen to date. Never thought I'd be shipping a Digimon and Ophis, but here I am.

Click to shrink...

Thank you!

Heh, I never actually considered the two like that, not that I don't mind you shipping them. With romantic feelings being a wholly alien concept to Ophis and Tactimon himself being already taken, married to his job of trying be the perfect retainer for his new master, it's very unlikely the two will develop romantic feelings for each other. This, of course, doesn't mean they won't be growing closer in the future, but their relationship is going to stay just platonic.

I really want more of this as soon as possible!

I don't know why but Ophis and Tactimon are just so cute in their interactions with each other, even thought they're both perpetually confused, it's an earnest confusion! Need more interactions! Stat!

Click to shrink...

Hopefully, I'll get the next chapter finished before next week. I'm also doing some grammar fixing on older chapters to make them more readable.

Ophis and Tactimon do make a very fun, if challenging duo to write. The next chapter will hopefully be to your liking.

 

[Lewdhandholding]

This, of course, doesn't mean they won't be growing closer in the future, but their relationship is going to stay just platonic.

Click to shrink...

Ah, shame. Would've been adorable to see them bumbling about with those feelings. Thanks for telling me, OP.

 

[LeonT]

I can just imagine everyone shitting themselves as they realize Ophis has someone who's unquestionably loyal and competent.

Daily reminder that Tactimon's sword is strong enough to split a star in two. Tactimon is terrifyingly powerful.

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

I can just imagine everyone shitting themselves as they realize Ophis has someone who's unquestionably loyal and competent.

Click to shrink...

That's something I'm planning on exploring in the future.

What's funny, is that Tactimon's goal to get the Khaos Brigade operate the way Ophis thinks it does can be interpreted in a totally different light. Guestioning other faction's loyalties, introducing new restricting rules, hunting down traitors – this is exactly what most Khaos Brigade groups have been doing in the past, if on a smaller scale. It's just the motives behind these actions that differ so greatly.

 

[Wilfred Von Gryynis]

Forgotten realm, the Khaos Brigade headquarters

It had been almost a week since Tactimon's last visit with the Ouroboros Dragon. Ophis, having nothing better to do in her wait, had decided to pass the time by staying exact still, willing every atom in her body to freeze. Couple of times while in her new hobby did few Khaos Brigade members come asking for her snakes, which she obliged, but did so as still as a statue. Only when she detected the Digimon finally return to the snowy world, did life return to her.

Using her unparalleled senses, Ophis tracked Tactimon's every step, as he navigated through the fortress' many hallways and corridors with a group of Grim Reapers accompanying him. Nearing the bottom of her chambers, Tactimon gestured his retinue to stay in the reception area at the bottom of the staircase, while he continued onward.

Like the previous times, after stepping into the throne room, the Digimon repeated his odd customs before her. Bowing every time the two met felt so needless in Ophis' opinion, but she wasn't going to stop it; if Tactimon wanted to do so, let him do so.

After performing his signature choreographs, Tactimon announced his return, speaking the human tongue, Japanese, he preferred. Ophis nodded back to affirm her servant's statement as it was indeed true — Tactimon had arrived. Why he felt the need to share this apparent fact, she wasn't so sure.

Standing back up, Tactimon addressed her again. ''Your will is done, Ophis-sama. Every traitor and their accomplices revealed in those papers have now been eliminated, with none managing to escape. As a proof, I have brought their heads for you to see, along with additional evidence of their crimes. I've also written a detailed post-analysis on how the D5 Division performed on this and how to improve in the future.''

Ophis blinked. Tactimon really liked to repeat the obvious, it seemed. It had been self-evident to her that he would do exactly what he'd promised.

Slowly shaking her head once, Ophis spoke. ''There is no need for that.''

It took a moment before Tactimon answered, his voice coming a tad slower. ''...If that is you wish, Ophis-sama. I shall hold on to the documents, in case you ever feel the need to go over them.''

Ophis, liking to perceive the eluding emotions people felt as colors, saw how Tactimon's mind took a plunge in blue, almost fully replacing the shining orange that had been predominant till now. She wasn't quite sure what exactly caused such an abrupt change in him.

After this, her servant asked for permission to stack the collected heads outside the palace grounds. Again, she didn't really understand why Tactimon wanted to do so, but as long it wouldn't compromise the palace's runes that managed to somewhat muffle the annoying outside noises, she wouldn't mind or care, which she told him.

This made Tactimon's left hand twitch, as if searching to hold something. The movement was so subtle most wouldn't have noticed it. Ophis did. She also noticed how the remnant of shining orange emotion was being taken over by more blue one.

A moment of silence was then shared between them, which she found not that bad. Their short pastime coming to an end, Tactimon informed Ophis that he'd prepared a letter to all Khaos Brigade cells explaining the reason behind the strikes D5 Division had been conducting. He also asked her input on the message contents and while this made her feel appreciated, Ophis trusted Tactimon's skills, having no idea what to put there the Digimon must have already considered.

Tactimon's posture drooped a tiny bit and the last vestiges of orange disappeared, the blue being now the only emotion filling the Digimon's mind.

After a pause, her servant asked if she'd want to see his compiled report on what the other Khaos Brigade factions had been doing this week. She asked if they'd been searching ways to destroy Great Red, to which Tactimon, with some hesitation, affirmed they had — allegedly. Hearing her subject continuing to work hard made Ophis satisfied, not needing to hear more.

The blue emotion turned a shade darker in Tactimon, his stature ever so slowly starting to resemble a wilted flower.

''Very well, Ophis-sama. We'll be planting the heads near the main gate then. It will be a reminder for all of the Khaos Brigade not to lose their sight on our objective.''

''Why the need to remind? You have taken care of those who pretended to help me, as did the Satan descendants.'' She asked with her head cocked.

The Digimon was silent, colors now changing on rapid succession inside his mind, before finally settling to swirling mix of orange and blue wrestling for control.

''You are correct, Ophis-sama, that the traitors revealed to us have been eliminated,'' Tactimon began slowly. ''but these were only the ones we were aware of. Some may still remain and it would be wise to be ready for a such possibility. Doing this is an effective way to signal we do not tolerate any duplicity. ''

Ophis nodded, satisfied by the explanation. ''I see.''

Yes, there could still be more of those who said the one thing while meaning the other, Ophis conceded. Those were a tricky kind to make any sense of, even more so then normally. But this was alright, for as long as there would still be some in the Khaos Brigade continuing to help her, she wouldn't be concerned.

Tactimon then spoke again, sounding like he'd head eaten a lemon. ''And even if it turned out to be that… there are no more snakes in the grass, the possibility of someone having a change of heart, tempted to forsake their loyalty and honor to your ladyship for a reason or another, is always present.''

''Not possible. They have sworn an oath to me.''

While she still to this day did not fully understand the fickle, mysterious minds of the weak and fragile, there was one thing Ophis knew for a fact: once someone made a promise, they could not change their mind about it. Even those who spoke not what they meant, did abide by this rule, for the mind did not override the previously set instructions.

The blue emotion wrestled once again control over the orange inside Tactimon's mind. ''I wish I could share your ladyship's optimism. Far too many times have I seen a trusted comrade's mind be poisoned by lies, throwing away all their honor and become a turncoat.''

Ophis quirked an eyebrow at that.

'Tactimon has seen others… switch the way they behaved? Just like that?' The thought gave Ophis a pause and the long dormant emotion called curiosity surfaced to her mind

The concept of change was nothing new to the Ouroboros Dragon, it being a simple cause and effect in motion. In her time learning about the Universe, where everything was always in fast motion, she was surrounded by this phenomena. Forests turned into deserts, mountains crumbled and people died, as the creation's light was snuffed out of them, eventually replaced by new ones. Change, such a controvert thing it was. While it ensured nothing stayed the same, it was cyclic, ensuring a fixed, repeating constancy.

But even after all her time observing the world, what Ophis had never considered was that, not just the mortal shells of the weak and fragile changed with the passage of time, but that their minds could too. The notion had simply never entered the Dragon God's consciousness.

To be told this was possible, to replace and override your opinions, morals and values —how alien this was to her. Try as she might, with her brow knitting from the effort, Ophis couldn't imagine how this could be done. She had, did, and would forevermore yearn to return in her silent world, nothing would change this fact. Even the times a new opinion did appear in her head, it had never replaced any of her previous set of values; each and every one of her decisions, once decided, had been final, Ophis never remembering an occasion she had changed her mind about something.

''But how can others do that? Why would they do that?'' The Dragon God asked sincerely, staring intently at Tactimon, with her deep, black, unblinking eyes, attempting to unravel this mystery presented before her.

''Forgive me… my master… for I didn't meant… to offend you..!''

Tactimon was struggling, both outwardly and inwardly, as if the whole world had crashed on his shoulders. Seeing this, Ophis immediately eased off her aura, realizing she'd let her power spike the tiniest of bits without meaning to, while she was mulling over his words.

''You have not. I was just thinking. You may continue with the explanation.''

She would need to be more careful in the future. It wouldn't do if any of her servants were squished to death because of her own carelessness. She patiently waited for Tactimon to gather himself, who was now heaving heavily and leaning on his knees.

''To answer your questions, Ophis-sama,'' Tactimon finally rasped, each of his word measured. ''for the reason as to why such things happen, is because every person possesses free will. With this freedom comes the ability to choose how to think and to act for oneself, along with the consequences that comes with the path chosen. And as person grows and matures, absorbs and is influenced by new experiences and ideas, both good and bad, naturally comes change of character.''

Under the floating blue lanterns dim illumination, which was eagerly devoured by the obsidian stone the room was carved of, Tactimon's appeared now resembled the same color as to what Ophis saw his mind to be in.

Tactimon continued with a softer tone. ''As my late master once put it, 'All are born to sail the great river we call life's journey. Steer your ship, fight its terrible currents, crash and sink in its depths — while the destination might be set, it is you who chooses how to reach it.' This is just the way the world is.''

So, the freedom to form one's own choices was what made this deviation possible. Ophis, eager to once again learn more about something brand new, pointed at the Digimon. ''But you have always been the way you are, Tactimon, as have those I've re-met.''

Those rare few times Ophis saw someone again after thousands of years had passed, she hadn't noticed any change in their behavior; the Two Heavenly Dragons were still going on about their rivalry, deities of different mythologies remained squabbling between themselves about the same boring things she didn't care about, and Great Red was still as stupidly annoying and loud as ever. Even when she become the leader of the Khaos Brigade and started to be in more frequent contact with familiar subjects, no changes had she ever detected in their behaviors, even if it had been a rather insignificantly short time she'd known them. Even Tactimon, from the memories she'd seen, had always been a loyal General.

Based these observations, Ophis had been sure everyone's minds were set in stone and unchanging, similar to hers.

''I feel I'm a poor example to draw general conclusions, Ophis-sama. The circumstances concerning my birth are... not exactly applicable for most. As for the others, sometimes, especially with the long living races, the change of character can be small and slow, close to unnoticeable. Of course, having the capability to evolve into something different, won't mean everyone will.''

''I see.''

While she still didn't quite understand how someone could just simply stop being themselves, it would explain most of her befuddlement that came from interacting with the brittle ones. This was yet another reminder just how different this world was from her home.

One thing, however, made Ophis feel unsure. If anyone had the potential to change with time, that would mean...

''Will you stay loyal, Tactimon?''

Tactimon dropped on his knee and spoke with reverence. ''Always. Nothing in the world will change my pledge to you. And if the other Khaos Brigade members know any better, they will too.''

Satisfied, Ophis leaned against the throne's back seat, her expression back to it's usual blank state. ''Good. You seem well versed on this subject.''

''You words flatter me, Ophis-sama,'' There was a hint of pink briefly appearing in Tactimon's mind. ''But you are indeed correct. Hundreds of years have I lead troops and learned how to motivate them, both from the field and books. And speaking of books—''

In the dark blue in Tactimon, Ophis saw even darker, pitch-black stain appear. Curiously, within the darkness, there was a tiny, flame-like flicker of orange.

''—if your excellency is ever interested in learning more about the intricacies of how to lead and govern, I have an excellent recommendation pertaining the topic: a book I was most pleased to find existed here too. It is a favorite of mine and a timeless classic, meant for both those intrigued about the craft and to more seasoned commanders, with years of experience under their belt. Despite my long years as the Head Officer, the volume's content still manages to amaze me with it's simple, yet timeless lessons.''

From a satchel he was carrying, Tactimon took out a book. Despite being very old made, it was in pristine condition. Rising to his full height, he hold it out for her. ''Perhaps your ladyship is already familiar with this one?''

Leaning down from the throne, Ophis took the offered item. Inspecting it, she turned it this way and that, until its cover came to view.

The Art of War.

''I have not.'' Ophis shook her head. In fact, she hadn't read much in her life, never finished a book. The inanimate objects, usually made from quickly and easily perishable materials, hold no significant power within them that would help her kill Great Red. The few volumes she had given a try had nothing in them that would've helped with her dilemma and thus, among many other things similarly useless, she had paid little to no mind to them.

''Inside it you'll find many helpful advice on how to effectively manage and motivate troops, how intelligence and counter-intelligence works, and the importance of logistic, along with many more crucial topics. I would say this book manages to encapsulate perfectly the cornerstones needed for any successful military campaign. Perhaps it can help your ladyship to find new ways on how to direct the Khaos Brigade to further improve it?''

'Huh.' Perhaps she should give the book a try then, Ophis thought, seeing the bind of papers now in a different light.

''I, shall go over it then.'' Ophis said and opened the book at random, as well as turning the upside-down volume finally the right way.

This was very thoughtful of Tactimon and something inside Ophis made her want the Digimon to know it too. Putting the Art of War aside, she decided it was best to imitate what she'd seen many do when in a similar situation. Standing up, she descended from the throne and came to stop at the last step, now in the same eye-height as her taller servant. Taking his hand, Ophis gave it a shook. ''Thank you, Tactimon.''

Fireworks exploded in Tactimon's mind and he froze, letting Ophis shook his limp hand. Then, with his chest puffed out, the Digimon's posture straightened and he gently grasped her smaller hand back. The tiny with flame in him had expanded into a brilliantly glowing orange fire, completely driving out the black and blue and black emotions.

''I'm pleased I could help you, Ophis-sama. It is my duty.'' Tactimon spoke, his voice wavering.

Ophis nodded, wondering how long did handshakes usually last. To be completely sure, she continued for a half a minute more.

When she had returned to the throne, Tactimon spoke.

''Before I return to my duties, is there anything else your ladyship wishes to discuss?''

Inspired by their conversation, a pleasant idea struck Ophis, and a tiny bit of smugness entered in her normally deadpan tone. ''When Great Red is dead, I want it's head staked on a spike too and planted on the palace's highest tower for all to see.''

Ophis had no trouble hearing Tactimon's soundless huff, while a brief flicker of warm, yellow emotion appeared in the orange. ''I will see what can be done, Ophis-sama. If that is all, I shall take my leave then, and I'll see you on the next Sunday at the latest.''

With a final bow, Tactimon left, his gait more confident than when arriving.

Ophis followed with her other senses as Tactimon and the Grim Reapers planted the heads outside. For reasons she could not articulate, she wanted to observe them working, mainly Tactimon. When the group left the realm, her attention returned back to the Art of War on her lap.

She had been given a book.

A gift.

When was the last time someone had given her something, without asking anything in return? It was a very long ago, even by her standards, with the presents in question having turned to dust ages ago, Ophis having no idea what to do with them back then. Unlike other Dragon's, she felt no need to hoard or own material possession. To Ophis, it seemed pointless to try and hold onto something that was so fleeting, when she could simply own everything forever in her memories which she could revisit whenever she wanted.

Unlike the previous times, Ophis now knew what to do with the gift. More so, it was specifically given to help her, and that if something made it all the more special.

As she hold the book, a strange warmth began spreading in her chest, the Ouroboros Dragon having never experienced a feeling quite like this. The feeling was weak, close to nonexistent, but it was there.

Gently gripping the Art of War, she brought the book against her chest and hugged it. ''This, is mine.''

She would thoroughly comb this book, page by page, unravel all its secrets and use them to give her insight on how the the fickle minds of the weak and fragile operated. Then, with this newfound power, she would help her servants to find a way to make Great Red finally kick the bucket.

'Your days are numbered, my idiot nemesis.'

---

Outside the great stone palace, Tactimon oversaw Speros and her Grim Reaper colleagues staking the traitor's heads on sturdy metal spikes, ready to be planted on a neat rows, far enough from where the True Satan Faction had their tortured victims to make the distinction clear.

While dutifully focusing on their work, Tactimon could see the Grim Reapers were still rather shaken by Ophis' sudden spike of power, having felt her creepy aura in the reception hall. He wouldn't be surprised if every soul on this icy world had felt it. It certainly had been an experience, if an innocent one on Ophis' behalf, and a good reminder of the terrible power his master wielded. He would not wish to have it repeated.

The meeting itself had to be the most exhausting and confusing one of his life, easily beating the previous record holders, of which the two were his previous briefings with the Ouroboros Dragon. Even Blastmon hadn't managed to make him reach the level of stupefaction the Dragon God did. Oh, how nervous he had been (he, a General of thousands battles, who waged war against the very Heavens!), as he waited how Ophis would react upon him recommending her the Art of War, in hopes of broadening her horizon on how to be an effective leader.

Words could not express how relieved he was when Ophis did not see his suggestion distasteful, nor felt it as him stepping over his boundaries — but actually found it helpful. With the Art of War at her side, his master would have all the information she needed to ensure no-one would double-cross her ever again. The book had never strayed him wrong, and there was reason it was his favorite night time read.

Cold arctic wing blew and the realm's sole white sun shone its radiant light from the sky, transforming the snowy landscape to a glimmering sea of stars. Tactimon felt a bit more at ease. While enjoying the small reprieve, in the back of his mind, the samurai was busy, already planning for the upcoming events waiting the D5 Division.

Orchestrating and overseeing these past weeks strikes had eaten more time than Tactimon had initially estimated, him needing to do even more multitasking to get things back on schedule. While his rest had needed to be cut even more short, it was a necessary sacrifice. At least all the work kept him distracted from thinking about his past life.

The next few weeks would also be a headache when the remaining, sniveling bunch of sellouts learned about the strikes in a few hours. Tactimon suppressed a shudder that came by just thinking about it. He would be having his hands full for sure by just trying to keep the Brigade from dissolving into a civil war. He really hated playing politics with these slimeballs, but for his master's sake, Tactimon would do it.

There were also those few unlucky souls who had gotten themselves entangled into this rat hunt. Promising additions as they seemed, especially that human alchemist Berhold Götz, they would need to be kept on close watch to ensure none of them grew any second thoughts about the decision to join the D5 Division.

A system would soon needed to be set, one that promoted his underlings to compete and keep an eye on each other to ensure loyalty within ranks, while still encouraging cooperation. For even with him working tirelessly, Tactimon could simply not keep a track of everything his troops did, less so the more members he managed to recruit.

But before he could get any more ahead of himself, there was one last thing he needed to do. He was going to have a talk with the Hero Faction, the topic being the report that had started all of this. For there was a great deal of things the samurai wished to discuss them, especially with Cao Cao.

 

[AAAustinYu]

OPHIS IS LEARNING

Well Rizevim is right fucked isn't he