Nightmare's Origin
“Eheheheheheeeeeheeeeeheheheheheeeee~” the little puppet cackled as he darted through the stalls of the market, moving as fast as his feet would carry him, much to the chagrin of the bigger, bulkier Digimon surrounding him. “You can’t catch me!” he called back, his great prize in hand- food and a few little trinkets he’d sell in the next town.
“Get back here, you little pest! Those aren’t yours!” Monzaemon called, stomping after him, struggling to keep up with the lithe, quick frame Dracmon had. Giggling madly, the little demon leapt up, over the walls, and tumbled down, barely escaping even as the others started up the search for him.
Oh, how easy~
“We’ll have your head for this, you little shit!” came the voices from beyond the wall, calling out to the child they knew still lingered. He lived and loved to taunt them all, and so he did, heterochomatic eyes darting upward before he tore off into wilds with his spoils.
Oh, so easy. Too, too easy.
And for Dracmon, it was such a fun game, pestering the others, causing all the trouble he could. Pranks came second nature to him, and his given gift- a unique little program known only to his system- allowed him to access much more power than those average Digimon hanging around.
So pathetic~
It was called the X-Antibody, something he’d heard rumor of, from those who worked for their god, when he’d spied on them.
The power to defy god itself.
And despite it just being a rumor, he’d known. Known from that point until this one, that if anyone had found out about his unique gift, he’d be hunted. Killed. And so far as he knew, he was the only one it’d manifested in- a gift from the legendary ones of old? Those who’d installed Yggdrasil?
He didn’t know, but who cared? He was going to use his talent for all it was worth! Grinning, he skipped along, munching on his food and hiding away his stolen treasures. Oh, would things get any easier for him? Perhaps, but then again…
Those Sovereigns that had appeared, their servants. And Yggdrasil’s growing number of peons.
Tch.
Still, he’d at least gotten another treasure, to either hoard or sell. Staring at the multicolored gem, he smiled at his acquisition until it was quickly tugged from his hands, examined by a traveling ExVeemon.
“You shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you, little one,” he replied in a kindly voice. Dracmon stared, staggering back. He’d been following—
“You followed me from that village, didn’t you?!” he accused, pointing up at the dragon Digimon. “What are you gonna do, huh?! Drag me back so the Monzaemon can attack me?! No way, I’ll take you down, if I have to—“
“Are you hungry?” he asked in a kindly voice, kneeling down to untie his satchel, pulling out some of his own rations and offering them to the Rookie. “It must get hard, traveling by yourself with no parents. You seem like a young boy, too. You really shouldn’t steal, I’m sure there’s easier ways to get money,” ExVeemon replied kindly, ignoring the accusations and poor attitude of the boy.
“Feh- I don’t need your help!” Dracmon shouted, snatching the food anyway and running back. He didn’t need pity from anyone! He just needed money.
“I’ll take this back to town, then. I’m sure Monzaemon will call off the hunt for you-“ he blinked, turning to see the Rookie had run off, food in hand. Shaking his head, he started off back to the town. Children. Though the world was still primal, and it wasn’t unusual to see lone young ones running about, surviving on their own wit and cunning.
Still, a shame he hadn’t even gotten the child’s name…
He swore to Yggdrasil though, he hoped his own future son never had to live under circumstances like that. He could only imagine what a wild child his child might be in that case.
The Rookie kept running, holding his stolen- given?- food close to his chest. Damned dragon. He could take care of himself! He could!
He thought as he stored his food away, making sure no others could ever touch it. His hideaways were no one else’s business! And damned if he was going to give up their locations to anyone!
Not even to weird old Digimon who gave him food.
Even if he’d taken a nibble and it was really good.
If Dracmon didn’t know better he’d—
--
“—be banished to the Dark Area for your insolent behavior,” Zhuqiaomon hissed, flames billowing around him, wings flaring out, embers burning the paint off and causing an acird stench fill the throne room- causing Antylamon to shudder in disgust.
Dracmon had really gotten himself into trouble this time, pressed against the stone floor as he was. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, deciding to lighten up the Sovereign of the South by giving his face plate a little makeover. And it wasn’t like the paint wouldn’t wash off!
Of course, watching the firebird have to get wet to do that made him giggle- which was admittedly what had given him away to the patrolling soldiers. And there he struggled against the Digimon holding him, snapping and trying to claw his way from his grasp.
“Let me go, damnit! I have rights!” he shouted, only to have his face pressed against the stone, muffling any further attempts to argue.
“I think not. You snuck into sacred ground, defiled this space with your crude drawings, and dared lay hands on Lord Zhuqiaomon. In addition, you had the audacity to even linger and “admire” your work,” Antylamon listed off his crimes, further pressing him into the stone. The child was growing tiresome. “Tell me what fate you don’t deserve.”
“Wh-why you- I’m gonna get you both back for this, I swear-! I have advantages you don’t—I’ll—“
‘Enough!” Zhuqiaomon bellowed, peering down to stare Dracmon in the eye. “I have had enough of your unseemly nature, boy. I know all about the little advantage you’ve gained, but that is worthless in the face of my power.”
“Wanna bet?!” Dracmon shouted, managing to push his face off the stone to get that out. Preparing to attack, he suddenly felt himself grow heavy as an unseen bolt of energy shook him to his DigiCore. “GCK—“ Clenching his eyes shut, he felt them burn and sizzle as he almost blacked out. His body felt weak… so slow, useless… he didn’t lose his advantage, no- in fact if it weren’t for that… “Wh-what did you do to me?!”
“I forced your body to start decaying. You boast your skills, so I thought this might be a well-deserved punishment for someone of your nature,” Zhuqiaomon replied emotionlessly, opening a portal beneath the smaller Digimon, watching him drop into the Dark Area. That curse he’d laid would make life impossible unless he fed from other Digimon.
And the Dark Area itself was where fallen angels made their home and thrived, who could easily make something of that existence suffer.
They wouldn’t be bothered again.
--
Dracmon continued to scream, clawing at his eyes as his body heaved, retched, and felt like it was tearing itself apart! His head ached, and his eyes- his eyes, his sharp eyes burned and felt like they were trying to melt from his head. Boiling- he couldn’t stand it! Yelling at the top of his lungs, he felt searing sensations in his hands- and then…
He felt a weird sense within him. He could still see… and he saw his hands, with his eyes fused to the palms. Staring in horror as he reached up to his face, grasping at himself—it was smooth, fabric-like…
Fake.
WHAT HAD THEY DONE TO HIM?!?!
And still he felt his stomach burned, he couldn’t—
-Was that movement?
Yes… he thought it was…
He felt hungry.
Maybe they could just—
--
He’d forgotten how long it’d been since being cast into the Dark Area, but he’d adjusted rapidly to the unforgiving terrain. Dragging himself along the ground, he looked around eagerly.
Yes… he’d learned so much, spying on those who claimed to be nobles. Their “Aristocratic” behavior. How sickening, there was no real power here. Nothing- He needed to find it didn’t he? That ability, somehow- to give himself the power that everyone else lacked.
He’d already figured out a lot about this dimension, and barely clung to life with his X-Antibody—just until he could feed off other Digimon. But no… he needed something more. He felt lost, alone.
He wouldn’t take it anymore! He wasn’t going to let something like that buzzard kill him! He wasn’t going to suffer in that dimension—
No, he needed power. He needed to take control of everything in that dimension, and strike back at the world that had tossed him out. A laugh slipped from him, building into a roar of demented glee as he walked forward, staggering. If he was special, if he truly had that Yggdrasil-defying power that the X-Antibody was reputed to give.
Then he would do this.
Without regret, he did it, descending into the Dark Area to feed on the power he found there. He could do it, right? It was either that or die- and it wasn’t like he had much of a reason to live, his perpetually decaying body limiting his actions. No, he would do it. There wasn’t any other option left to him as he began to feed, opening up his X-Antibody—
Yes, that was it! The conduit it sought, infusing him with energy as he reached down into the very corruption that had formed, festering as the Digital World’s shameful shadow. He’d found it, he’d found something to spark growth and change, and most of all his power that he so desperately wanted. And it let him. It let him shape things to his will, starting with his body. He was going to remodel himself, and then everything else around him.
He felt alive. Mad laughter escaped him as the energy pulsated, flowing through him, seizing control, warping and enlarging his body. The power was there! It was there and no one had had the boldness to claim it! It was his! It was all his! Laughing, he grew until his body cracked and burst through the canyon he’d wandered into. A roar bellowed from the wasteland, and others stopped to take notice as the sure-footed steps of a devil shook the area.
He’d done it, hadn’t he?
Stomping his feet again, a building began to form behind him. Gargantuan, even dwarfing the devil, a creaking mass of steel and stone, synthetic bone and flesh, shambled to life and stood behind him as if waiting for his command.
Standing firm and strong, he began to speak. And he felt something else, too… the malleability of the minds listening to him.
He could control them.
He would control them.
Everything he saw was his now.
“My dear outcasts… my name is GranDracmon. For far too long we’ve suffered this dimension under the whim of Yggdrasil and those subordinate to him. I say enough of this!” he stated, feeling the sway he was having over the self-indulgent group. He chuckled. “Why, what sort of entities are we, content to laze about in this domain? We should take it back, yes? For all the “love” that cursed god speak of, he discards us like toys! So if you would allow… I will lead you.
“And we will destroy Yggdrasil.”
And he had them, as the gathered Digimon broke into a roar of cheers, the thundering sound of them marching into the castle to go do war against those who lived in the light of the Digital World.
GranDracmon was pleased.
--
His plan was a success, the long years he’d struggled and the campaign raged on. The whispers the Dark Area had given him, what his powers had taught him had been exponential.
He had the power to defy god.
He had the power to destroy Yggdrasil.
And bit by bit he called upon more peons, corrupting with a touch as his charming words spread like wildfire across the Digital World. Those that resisted fled or were killed under his regime, and he was gaining control over the world almost in an instant- though it had taken many years to get to that point.
Not even that paladin Yggdrasil created could stop him now! Not when he had his trump cards, Digimon of the X-Antibodies he’d created, mutating with copies of his own special gift and making them elite commanders.
No mere warrior imbued with only Yggdrasil’s strength could stop them.
“M’lord.”
“Yes, LadyDevimon?”
“There have been reports of a strange Digimon trying to resist the armies. Vademon has confirmed that he’s an X-Antibody carrier.”
“Preposterous. I created all those who carry the antibody.”
“Sir… he’s not like any of them. It’s evolving on its own!” she insisted, calling up pictures on the data screen. He narrowed his eyes at the sight. Blue-grey with yellow eyes. It looked almost fox-like. And on its head was a peculiar marking- a prototype interface?
“…I see. Send Matadormon out to fetch him. He must be recruited before anyone else dares attempt to reach him. Bring him as a member of my army or delete him!”
“Yes sir!”
