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Fanfic » Anime » Digimon » The Dark Horizon font size: (+) : (-)
Author: logan
R - English - Romance/Drama - Reviews: 154 - Publish date: 07-11-01 - Updated: 05-07-02 storyid: 350927

I don't own tai or Sora or any of the other characters. I do own the plot though. Ok well I am now on my new series. Sorry this took so long to come out, it was part not having inspiration and part going on vacation. Well this is the second series I will be doing and I hope it is good. I doubt it will be another genesis though. Genesis was based pretty heavily in the final fantasy series, this one is going to have a lot more gundam and EVA similarities. I'd like to apologize if this isn't that great, with genesis I had it planned out for every chapter. This one I just have some basic ideas for the plot, so I am kinda feeling my way through this. Once again this is going to be more on the dark side, with some sexual innuendos, some cursing, and of corse that blood and gore that resulted from a childhood with mortal kombat ^___^ I hope you enjoy it.

Let me know what you think at logan91235@aol.com

Dark Horizon

by Logan

"Silver Future"

Like a marble of blue and brown coloration it hangs there upon the mantle of the dark heavens. Silently spinning in a endless circle around the large glowing ember of a star. When viewed from so far away it looks clean and pure. Innocent as the age of the planet is still galactically no more then a child. Our world which has held us as a species for so long is no more then a child. But that child has suffered a hard life already. The earth shimmers in the heavens though it is tarnished upon closer inspection.

Overcrowded and poisoned our world was turned dark and desolate. It was like the forgotten ruins of some great temple which now is no more then hollow stones. Mankind fled the earth for the stars, and now the majority of the creature human dwells upon floating barges of steel stone and glass known as colonies. These colonies are maintained by vast supercomputers which hold them stationary in the great tides of space. Within these shells of glass and steel there was housed earth which was used to grow vegetation and create an artificial piece of the human home world. There was air, water, and life inside these massive colonies. Within each cell there was trees and grass which grew within the artificial earth, inside that colony with the fragments of nature was large buildings and streets which snaked around the hills of grass and trees.

The colonies were now as once there were cities on earth before the great population explosion that sent humanity out in search of more room to live. The cities were of varying size and stature. Some were no more then slums that mirrored earth in many ways. To walk the streets and be walking down a road of depravity where you could buy drugs, weapons, or prostitution. These colonies were naturally the cheapest to live in, and thus the majority of them were populated by the desolate families who were unsuccessful in their efforts to make a better life for themselves.

Other colonies were quite different however. Populated by the wealthy merchants or the shipping tycoons, some colonies were paradise made real. They had great beaches that had been created by flooding half the land with seawater and sand. There were lush jungles that bloomed with flowers that painted the air with the soft aroma of the flagrant blooms. The hillsides stretched as far as the eye could see with golden fields of grass and vegetation. It was in this setting that the elite made their homes.

Where there is wealth there is thieves. And in this new era of man that had carried over from the old. Shipping lines carried merchandise to the great markets and carried alloys and materials from the asteroid mining fields to the warehouses where these metals would be forged into ships or even colonies which were in construction. These targets called out to the marauder groups who hunted the dark tides of space like wolves in the darkened pathways of the forests.


Like a massive train which was composed of compartments like the segments of a great steel centipede, the transport glided along slowly through the stillness of space. It was a cool dark grey with bright red running-lights which flashed like a strobe to set the freighter off from the black backdrop with which it now glided.

It was flanked by several large machines that flew at it's side on the power of their own thrusters. Two had an almost human appearance though its model was covered in head to toe steel and armor with a large blade-like appendage in arm. The silvery steel glimmered faintly in the red light of the beacons as it glided at the side of the convoy. The mechanical frame's steel face was no more then several overlapping sheets of steel wrapped around the glossy black camera like

eye. It looked more like a gladiator in the roman arena of old then it looked like a modern machine. But in reality it was neither.

There were two of the second model which was more stretched from a humanoid form. it instead looked more prehistoric. It had a massive head and a incredibly imposing frame. Upon it's back the ridges of steel gave way to rocket silos. The thing's body was also composed entirely of steel though it seemed more worn then the humanoid model. These steel dragons had scorch marks over some of their armored flesh and bore deep gashes in some of the worn armored chest plate. These models had seen more action then the previous model and thus bore many more marrings to their superstructure. The thrusters at the creature's sides burned a soft orange as they kept pace with the faster and more agile units.

The com flicked on with a static hiss as the cockpit of the various units illuminated with the image of the unit commander who was piloting the larger saurian machine. He wore a black uniform with his rank shown clearly through the adornments it bore proudly over his chest.

"This is MetalTyranomon1 Looking for a confirmation on a shadow that just blipped on the radar. It was in the Y20 sector.." the image shifted to that of a young man wearing flight goggles in a matching uniform, though of lesser rank.

"Yeah this is knightmon3 I saw it too, but it must have been nothing. Just a censor ghost..." the voice was cut off as the space around it rippled to life and opened to reveal the form of a large mechanized figure that hovered closely to the frozen figure. With a sudden lurch the ghostly mech swiped out at the stunned figure. His hand was massive with four hooked talons of colossal perportune. The armored mech scrambled backwards, but was far too slow as the mighty gripping claw seized his head and with a sudden whoosh of hydriodic. With one motion the demon claw pulverized and ripped off the head from the frame.

The metal shrieked out in agony as cables snapped in great explosions of blue sparks and splinters of wire. Gasses leaked from the decapitated frame in a great geyser of oxygen, which glowed a pale grey on the backdrop of space. The ghost model sneered down over the dead machine as it floated slowly off in the stillness of space.

"EMERGENCY!! ENEMY MECH.!!" the defender screamed over his com as he turned to face the specter of steel and cable. He was piloting a knightmon mech and making use of the higher speed capabilities he was able to spin around to face the now advancing bakamon. The twin machine-guns mounted onto his shoulder panels suddenly sprang to life as they screamed out with fire. The onslaught met the armored hull of the bakamon with a series of pings as the metal frame was being shot away. The damaged mech abandoned the charge as he pulled hard to the right where her hung there raining sparks from his wounded framework.

As the knightmon was turning to resume attack the space before him rippled as another bakamon mech. lowered its cloak device. Even before the enemy was completely in view the knightmon was attacked with a vicious series of slashes from his two clawed hands. The armored frame was shredded over the torso as the bakamon reared back to dodge the swipe from the third knightmon mech. He was gliding along with a certain grace as the sword glowed a angry red attempting to cut through the ghost mech. The chase ended when the night came alive with a new model. A phantomon. With a metalic shriek the glowing scythe cut the knightmon in half diagonally from the center. It rained fire and metal as the frame's generator blew leaving no more then glowing hot scraps of the mech.

The two metal-tyranomon began firing their chain-guns with a shrieking cry, the two mechs were able to dodge the fire, yet the wounded bakamon was caught in the blast and shredded to scraps of twisted metal. The two ghosts glided on the dark tides of space as the artillery screamed out shells upon them. with a sudden ripple of space they vanished from sight and as they did the two mechs lost the signal.

Space was calm as the sensors reached out like arms over the empty space that was concealing the shadowy frames of the killer mechs. The two survivors didn't speak over the communications relay for that might blind them to the moment before striking where the specters would shed wraith-mode and become visible. Metal-tyranomon were one of the stronger types of ultimate mech. In a firefight they could reduce far more then these two to smoldering charred frames of steel. But they were vulnerable to the sheer stealth these two mechanized weapons were capable of.

The freighter pilot was frantically hailing the two mechs. With a soft click the connection to the frantic man was severed. The captain had severed the connection himself as he watched the stars burn in the heavens so far away. His breath was so cold that it crystalized into a faint mist on his frothy mouth. He could feel the cold sweat on his back as he listened to the faint hum that radiated upward from the core of the mech's operating system. He whispered through the com to his subordinate who was taking soft breaths.

"Listen... on three I want you to dump the co2 cache. The second the gas is in space it will cling to the wraiths." his voice was quivering with terror as he spoke. He smelled the blood on the air and could taste his own bit lip.




With a great whoosh of smoky air the armor plating popped from several plated joints. The gas swirled like a dervish in the zero gravity of space and surrounded the two and illuminating the cloaked forms of the hidden adversaries. He spun around only to see the shadowy form of the phantomon before him and still in it's cloak. The shadowy features rippled away to give way to the image of the mech, who had been discovered. He screamed as he fired blindly. He got off three shots before his weapon was ripped in half by the cutting edge of the energy scythe. He reeled back in horror as he watched the mech's arm floating gracefully in the void of space. Phantomon mechs are terrifying up close. They are modeled after a grim reaper with the overhaning visor that vaguely resembled a hood. There was the softest glint or red in the shadowy hollow of it's face. The specter's grip closed over the survivor's shoulder in a crunching grip as metal warped and bent. The pilot's eyes went white in horror as the blade of the scythe was slowly ripped up the torso until he was split in two from the middle. Blood flowed in great twisting ribbons in the zero gravity. The phantomon pushed off slowly and allowed himself to drift softly in the dark tides. The pilot smiled contentedly as he allowed himself to happily drift amidst the tortured wreckage of his foe while his partner finished with the last defender.

With a shriek of terror the rookie pilot bolted. Fear swelled within him as he pushed the throttle on the mech. His thrusters screamed as he jetted outward in a blind and frantic rush. The world blurred to him as the stars seemed to swirl in a massive vortex of terror driven delusion. The air burned in his lungs as the sweat rolled into his panicked and now stinging eyes. He was pushing the older frame far too hard. From the back of the cockpit he could smell the faintly crisp aroma of burnt wire and smoldering machinery. The thrusters burned white hot as they were forced to go too hard, but even as the very core of the frame rattled with the growing pressure he did not relent.

With a sudden clang of steel on steel the mech was knocked backwards. It hurtled wildly for a moment before regaining its equilibrium. The younger pilot could taste blood on his lips. It occurred to him that he must have bitten his tongue, yet the adrenaline was obscuring any pain that might have been felt. The space before him appeared clear, yet slowly rippled outward like clear water. The space gave way slowly to the form of a hellishly dark mech that blended to the endless night around him. Humanoid shape, though greatly distorted in certain aspects. The back was dominated by two large steel wings. They looked like the wings of a dragon, though they were actually a series of skeletal razorblades that flexed like the living wings of some decomposing bird. The demon mech had a long segmented tail which ended in a sharp and frightening barb. The mechanoid form was seemingly spawned from hell with its large steely horns and massively wicked claws that seemed like swords in themselves in the darkness of space.

The young soldier stared at the larger mech with blind terror. Its clawed feet clicked as the hooked talons curled over the unnaturally large feet. It reached forward slowly, and as it did the massive claws glistened in the light of the faint stars. It gripped the frame in its huge hand almost tenderly, yet that illusion was short lived as that same hand now gripped the mech tightly in a vice.

Sparks errupted from the console as the various gauges and alarms blared. Then crackled and faded. The last thing the faint green monitor read before fading out was the scan of the enemy mech. The words flickered softly in the dying screen like firelight.

'Devimon mech.'

The pilot was still at the time he realized his death was now at hand. His own mech had been crushed to the point it would be useless even without the presence of the enemy. He listened as the hull groaned under the grip's pressure. The Devimon lowered a taloned finger to the twisted frame then with a slow movement ripped through the shell. Th man shrieked in agony as he was exposed to the vacuum of space. The searing throb of pressure built within him at a alarming rate until his lungs burst within his chest. He gurgled helplessly as his still body glided off in the dark tide.

"This is the Oran cargo transport, requesting immediate assistance! Multiple marauder mechs! Is anyone out there!?! Please respond, I'm in serious distress!" the pilot of the cargo freighter screamed into the com as he attempted to feebly outrun the advancing foes.

His face would look distinguished had it not been for the extream terror that stared out through his mature and greying face. His brown eyes were alive with panic as he stared through the glass windshield upon the massive black mech that was gliding to him with a menacingly leisurely pace.

The screen crackled as it suddenly came to life with the image of a youth with long black hair and glowing amethyst eyes. The youth had pale skin and a far more pale expression. He was devoid of emotion as he looked into the image of the older man's horror stricken eyes. He wore a uniform with an unusually high collar that seemed to obscure some of his well defined chin. His lips pulled up to a soft smile which set his face off with shadows from his high cheekbones, eye sockets, and small shapely nose. The eyes were by far the most menacing part of him, they glowed brightly in the shadow cast from the inadequately placed lighting in the mech's cockpit pure violet. They glowed softly with an eerie radiance that cut the dark like the burning embers of a wild animal in the dead of night.

"Don't waste your last breath." the youth chuckled as he glowered downward with a dark and foreboding smile. The devimon mech flexed before him with an intimidating show of it's massive size and vicious claws.

"We have cut off your signal, so I wouldn't expect any calvary if I were you." he smiled as he spoke with a soft and spectral voice that seemed both innocent and icy all at once.

"Who the hell are you?!?" the terrified man asked through his quivering and pasty lips.

"Me? Oh I suppose you won't be telling anyone. My call-sign is Demon, pilot of the devimon mech. And i have waisted enough time on you. Com off." before the man could cry out the screen went black. He paled as his eyes fell upon the demon-like mech. It reached out with it's clawed hand slowly, and withdrew a large metal staff from its side. He held the slightly curved rod forward and as he did the tip came alive with black fire that burned unhindered in the blackness of space. The dark fire was lined with the faintest edge of silver as it flared on the staff like a torch. Then with a soft bend the fire became pliant and turned to a smooth curved blade. The scythe glowed softly with the black fire that enlongated to a more massive blade that hissed softly like a serpent from the blackness of its burrow.

He reared back, bringing the massive weapon over his head, and then with a great heave brought it down over the steel vessel's cabin. The bearded man shreiked in horror and then agony

as in one swift motion the entire car was severed from the transport and incinerated in a large blast of flame and debris which rained outward in a swirling cloud of smoke fire and metal. The devimon mech stared blankly into the fires with a mesmerized look before drawing it's wings up in seeming ecstasy as it allowed the fire to engulf it. From inside the demonic frame the cold violet eyes radiated outward brightly as they reflected the carnage like glowing mirrors. In his hand the burning scythe hissed out for more.

The world of man had changed much after the journy to space. And as it advanced forward new weapons were called forth to bring death to the dark horizon's of space. Thease weapons were ancient ones. Ones that had exosted since the dawn of time, yet now were ressurected to a new plateau of devestation. Cybernetic combat engines. Large living machines that could be piloted by a human. They were fast and strong, capable of generating searing energy which could annihilate life. These mechs came in a variety of forms with a variety of abilities and strengths. They were the soldiers on the front lines of a war without end. They were the digimon.


Once, long ago there were two worlds. One world was of earth air and water, the other was a shadow world of data. These two worlds had existed in peace for so very long that no man knew their origin. For as long as there had been an earth, there had been a digital world. The two were linked by a bond that could not be seen or touched, but could be felt all too well when evil reined. The symbiotic worlds were in tune to the other's suffering, and through that link they were cursed.

In the last years of peace mankind and digimon lived in harmony. They were equals and allies thanks to the efforts of a young man who became ambassador to the digital world in the first awkward years when digimon became commonly known to all mankind. Through his guidance the digimon were able to make a lasting peace with the human species. That peace would last up until the end. But to all things there must come an end.

The plague came out of nowhere. It struck the digital world first and within the first two days the planet was dying. Digimon fled their world through the portals in swarms, but by the time they had all made it to earth it was too late. The plague had adapted itself to affect actual digimon, and in those two days that followed there was more death then ever known. Digimon were dying. There were many efforts to battle the plague, yet none were working. Soon species of digimon became in danger of extinction. It was in this time that one of the eternal stepped forward.

He was a scientist, though no older then twenty. His eyes told a different story. Within those dark pools he had seen thousands of years, and known more death and horror then he had ever deserved to see. Those eyes shined with tears he had longed to shed for what seemed like centuries. He had come out of nowhere with a solution to the plague. Not a cure mind you, but a way to cheat it. He had created his own retro virus. A technological one that would turn digimon into a more robotic state. They would forever be changed, but through the dark cure they could live.

Digimon became living machines which could function faster and better then any human device. They had taken the form of large mechanized creatures that could still partner to a human, though now in a different way. Their skin was neither steel nor flesh. It was instead a piece of living metal that thought and existed in many ways like we do. They could however not function without a pilot to aid them. Thus, the digital wars would continue as they had since the beginning.. With digimon and human working together.


"Commander... Long-range report from demon. He was successful in his raid of the Oran cargo freighter. He suffered minimal casualties to his party and was able to acquire a large sum of various.." the young man in the black uniform was cut off from his report by a gruff reply from the figure cloaked in the darkness of his ready-room. Little was visible of the figure except a glimmer of his chin which was bathed in a neatly trimmed golden beard. He wore a dark leather officer's jacket which fell over him like the black wings of some dark angel. His voice was like gravel as he leaned forward and illuminated the rest of his face. He was handsome with his sapphire blue eyes and striking hair and goatee of sun kissed gold.

"It wasn't housing the X- 2 though..."

"N-No sir... the transport was carrying only oar from the asteroid field." the blond man chuckled darkly as he stood. He was much taller then the younger officer and though he was only twenty-five he seemed to be older then time. Like some massive statue of granite from the long past. His trench-coat opened as he stood, revealing a dark green shirt. He wore baggy black pants that just covered the top of his glossy black boots. His eyes glowed like shimmering sapphires in the dim light of the darkened room.

"You will have demon escort the transport back to base. Then inform the reconnaissance team that they shall continue monitoring for the transport carrying the prototype. And the next time they confirm the signal they are to make sure it is the right transport. We cannot afford to make the U.E.S alliance hesitant about the transport of the prototype digimon mech." he tugged at his collar to reveal a large gaping scar that carried from one side of his throat horizontally across his windpipe. He noticed the direction of the young officer's gaze and smirked.

"You're looking at my scar aren't you?" the young soldier jumped in shock by his leader's sudden change of topic. It was rare for commander Ishida to make a comment like this.

"I'm sorry sir.. I didn't mean to."

"It was a gift. A gift from someone I once called brother." he trailed off.


"Not literally of corse... I have no siblings. He was once my best friend, my partner and in many ways, my brother, now... " he traced the scar with his hand subconsciously. "Now he is the person I am destined to kill."

Yamato raised his hand to the young officer and undid the button on his long sleeve. He pulled it away from his wrist so the young man could see the marking. Upon his wrist he bore a black tattoo emblazoning the ancient crest of friendship. The officer's jaw dropped and he took several steps back upon recognizing the mark.

"You see the rumors you have heard are true. I am one of them... and so is the one who gave me this. It has been our destiny to destroy one another since the beginning..." he motioned for the young officer to leave and without hesitation his orders were complied with. In fact the young man seemed to run down the corridor. He was afraid of the commander as many of them were. The man possessed a power to him. A strange force that gave him the appearance of being older then time. He was fearsome in a way that words could not carry.

He slowly walked back into the darkness of the room and made a slow stride to the port window which faced outward into the endless dark of space. In the distance there were stars which burned with a destructive light that from close proximity could kill more effectively then any mech. That power called to yamato as he looked out over the faint silver glow that bore the faintest whisper of the real fury that twinkled in the distance. It was that power that he was hunting for. It was the power of the cosmos that bid him onward in his one man war against the heavens and earth.


They were fools to make the X series. To go so far in their quest for knowledge that they made themselves gods of digital flesh. They were beings born in the endless darkness of space from a genetic stew. The scientists of the united earth space alliance were so pathetically foolish to try toying with the power that had given birth to yamato Ishida... that power made gods and now mankind was attempting to take hold of this force in his two clumsy hands. But if they were fool enough to make mechs that were strong enough to destroy planets, then he would use them.

The X series was as classified as any military project got. But it was still all too easy for yamato. He intercepted their transmissions about the transport of the most powerful mech in creation. A child digimon mech, but still a devastatingly powerful one that would grow strong enough to evoke the fire of the heavens and channel that power to a force capable of destroying an entire world.

The X-2... codename for the Greydramon mech. A creature created strictly out of mankind's folly. They had taken the base genetics of the two warring classes of digimon and blended them together to create a new species. Yamato remembered the greymon and the dramon. They were a memory that stretched centuries, but still a very important one. They were two warring species that killed the other in the most spectacular battles. They were among the strongest two classes of digimon. And now they were combined to one by mankind. The fledgling mech was to be transported to the lunar military complex where it would be partnered to a worthy U.E.S. officer.

The Greydramon was choosy. There were several attempts to bring a suitable pilot to the mech to be partnered. But they were rejected by the mech and shunned. The decision was made to move it to a rookie training outpost on the moon where the Greydramon's power would help shape a youth to be it's partner. But to do that the mech would be transported over empty space. That left it open to raiding attacks. Secrecy was important so the guards would be few. They relied on the sheer secrecy of it to protect the X project.

There were five X units. The X-1 was in a way Greydramon's brother. A powerful mech that also contained Greydramon DNA. It was the stronger of the two simply because it was older then the younger mech and thus more mature with its power. It was a devastatingly powerful weapon that had come to be called Seth, the Egyptian god of darkness. It was a killer from the beginning, and thus difficult to control without a partner. They had housed it in a private laboratory in one of the asteroid based facilities.

Within the year the base was destroyed in a massive explosion that was attributed to the Seth mech. The result was the mech.'s own destruction in the blast. Or so they thought. Un-known to them it was yamato who caused the destruction when he stole the Seth. The two were now partnered, and thus yamato held the greatest weapon ever to be known. He smiled softly as he allowed his mind to drift through the faculty's many corridors until it felt the mech.'s presence deep beneath. It slept there in the catacombs of the base. It was still as it remained within the dark sleep, yet through their link yamato was able to feel it calling to him. It was dreaming of the day when the two of them would meet the enemy in battle. But for now they both knew that the key to this game was patience. They couldn't risk forcing the Greydramon into battle, for it was one of the few beings capable of endangering the Seth. So for the time being both yamato and Seth remained patient.

The second X was Greydramon. He and Seth were the only two actual digimon mechs of the five. The X-3 and X4 were a different breed of life. A rare abomination that mankind feared more then he feared any other thing. They were considered a breed of unclean demons who were both digimon and human.

Digimon human hybrids were rare. And due to their power feared immensely. Their numbers were few and many of them had chosen to live a life of isolation in deep space where humanity could not follow. Like all digimon, the hybrids were capable of surviving in space. Thus they were able to escape their pursuers in the dark tides of the endless sea of stars.

The third and fourth of the X series were hybrids who were captured as children. A boy and a girl who were already imensly powerful. The human scientists toyed with the idea of creating a super powerful digimon hybrid soldier. They used genetic alterations on the two children for most of their lives. The two became so strong that they were able to escape the complex. They fled to earth, and were able to escape their pursuers for five years.

The reports were sketchy for those five years but resumed during the massive assault. Their captors had returned for them.


17 years ago

The earth was stale and brittle, like the shell of a long dead beatle that had fallen and baked away to ivory shell under the malicious kiss of the sun. It was brown and dry seemingly ready for the fire that at one time would have burned off the dead grass to bring new hope to the budding grass that rested beneath the soil. There was no grass waiting to emerge. Seemingly no life at all that waited to exist in the world of the forgotten. In the distance massive buildings of weather worn concrete and steel stood like ancient soldiers who were bathed in a strange mist that didn't fade come the heat of the day, but instead remained there unhindered by the weather. The city was huge, though it would grow no larger. There was no manpower to expand upon the once mighty metropolis that now stood stagnant in the distance.

The sky was a red that seemed that of a sunset over the Arizona mesas, yet it was not on the verge of darkness. Soft clouds wafted by on a hot wind that never brought relief from the heat. The clouds were bathed red under the fiery heavens that had long since thinned to the point of no longer keeping out the burning rays of the sun out. There was life on this dead ball of dirt known as the earth. Life that perhaps was more pure then that of the life which lived in the black velvet of space. Families who were on the verge of starvation would huddle together in the darkness of those ancient buildings until the sun set. And once that sun did set they would venture out in search of the rare food that was not poisoned, or the rarer still water. The earth was slow to give of itself, but it did still offer what it could to the last of it's children who would not leave it.

It was in this world of the forgotten and dead that the two children had grown. They had chosen this world of the forgotten for that is what they wanted most. To forget. To forget the X series tattoo's on their necks. They had grown up in this land and actually thrived here. And as they grew the two grew to love one another.

The world they lived in didn't want them. So they made a world of their own on this place once called earth. And they were happy in this world of their own with the people who were too preoccupied with survival to hate them. This world was destroyed in one moment. The scientists had returned for them, but this time they came with soldiers on both foot and on mech. The world they had tried to make for themselves was gone. Now they had nothing left for themselves but each other. They fought back.

His eyes glowed, they glowed a volcanic red as he frantically fought back against the digimon mechs. He was a handsome young man with long white hair that cascaded over his muscular frame. Upon his back he wore two large wings of the same steely flesh that all digimon were born with. The wings were that of a great metal dragon and as he fought it became clear that he was part airdramon.

He snarled out in a low hiss as he flew directly into one of the massive digimon mechs. His fingers had elongated to talons which he used to slash with deep clanging blows. Though small, his claws were incredibly adept at destruction. The enemy mech stumbled backwards over the earth as the shirtless male who was no older then 19 ripped the twisted frame of the pilot from the bleeding chest of the mortally wounded digimon. The weapon slumped over in seeming pain as the human controller was torn to bits in those massive razor claws.

He screamed in pain as the weapon fire from a second mech cut into his side. The force of the blast threw him from the dying mech yet was not enough for a quick kill. He spun around to face the coming attack in spite of his bleeding side which was now forming a red pool at his feet.

He screamed out in rage as the air around him grew hot and seemed to smolder like hot smoke. Wispy tendrils of energy curled around his outstretched arms as he growled in a low and feral tone. His side bled freely as the wafting ribbons of energy suddenly exploded outward in a blue beam of sapphire light. He snarled in rage as the beam of energy punched through the upper torso of the advancing mech.. It reeled back as the blue flame swallowed up the steel and flesh in a great blast. The maimed form hobbled back three steps before collapsing. It's entire body from the waist up had been burned off, leaving only the charred hindquarters to testify that it had at one point been whole.

"Sir, the X-3 has been engaged. It is putting up a fight!" one of the lieutenants yelled over the cry of machine guns into his com, where the elderly face of his superior peered back at him through the crackling reception of his monitor.

"Any sign of the X-4?"

"Yes sir! She is keeping back from the battle. It looks like the male is attempting to protect her."

"Listen! You are to eliminate both of the two rogues! They pose too great a threat if they are allowed to survive! Do not attempt capture of the two!" the com faded off to static as the young soldier turned back to the winged figure who had just chopped through a series of soldiers without mechs. He paused as his foe dropped to the ground and his wings closed over his torso that was bleeding badly. He looked to the female with the long dark hair and matching crimson eyes. She looked pleadingly to him as he stood there in a soft daze from blood loss. He staggered a step closer to her as the lieutenant raised his mech's weapon. The left arm was mounted with a massive chain-gun that fired bursts of ammunition. It glistened in the red sun with a dark luster.

"S.. Shara..." he rasped out as his wings opened to his mate. He smiled sadly at her as she opened her own wings which looked more like those of an angel. Within the protective mass of feathers an infant squirmed in discomfort against her naked breast. The female child's red eyes met with those of her father's in a soft communion. She whimpered sadly as her mother held her tightly in her soft and yet inhuman arms.

"Da..." she murmured in gibberish as she looked at the blood soaked figure of her father. He smiled weakly to her as he repeated her name again with a tone of love. "Shara.."

His eyes lifted upward to that of his mate. She looked to him with tears running down her gentle cheeks. She tried her best to smile at him, but instead found herself mouthing out a last 'I love you' to him. He smiled at her for an instant before the scream of the weaponry rang out. He was shredded under the barrage and with a splash of crimson he fell to the earth face down in a pool of blood. His wings slowly slumped downward as the last tinge of life left him.

The female looked at her mate with a sadness that words would fail. She looked down to her daughter and kissed her head softly as she looked up to face her killers. They were fast in their work as she now had no will to fight. She was too weak from the loss of her mate and the birth of her daughter to put up any great escape. All it took was a single shot before she died, still clutching her child.

"Sir, we have eliminated the rogues, but we have a subject of inquiry. The female and male were guarding a child."


"No sir, the child is one of them. Should we eliminate it as well?" his superior milled over the question for a moment before responding.

"No... take the offspring, and deliver it to the laboratory complex..."

"Permission to speak freely?"


"These things are a blight on existence. Every last one of them should be eradicated. And this one will grow to be just like her parents. Are you certain it's wise? Sparing it I mean.."

" the X project suffered enough of a setback with the rogues. This creature could limit the losses we took here. Deliver it to the appointed place... unharmed...." the com clicked off and the soldier turned to the squirming child who was looking up at him with eyes that flickered for an instant with red light before returning to the more normal red that appeared to be this animal's eye color. That flash troubled the officer for a moment as he looked down over it. It was as though for a moment they changed, like something beyond those eyes awoke.

"You are one lucky bitch. I would just assume stomp you here and now. But I suppose they want to have an X-5... I hope they dissect you." he snarled as he studied the child's face. Then let his eye wander to her right wrist where a symbol of a heart was tattooed in dark black ink.

"Savages... they even tattoo their offspring..." he spat with disgust as he gathered up the child that he hated entirely on the grounds of what she was. A monster.


The air was warm and flavored with the softest scent of wildflower wafting on the gentle breeze that brushed over the skin gently. The skies above were blue, though beyond them the glassy dome of the colony was visible in the soft haze of great distance. The hillsides were lush with green grass and the occasional white blossom of wild heather that peeked up from the grassy meadow floor.

He ran in a crouch along that uneven earth. He was far too visible here in his solid black attire. The grass grew taller as he went deeper into the lush hillside. It parted for him as he slithered through the reeds like a serpent in the grass. He was close to the first perimeter wall now and as he caught sight of the guard, ducked into the shadow of a nearby tree. He stared up at the guard through his serious brown eyes and remained frozen in the crouched position. His hand slowly slid to his side, where he gripped the gun's handle. He didn't squeeze, simply fingered it softly. the guard continued to walk down the Stoney wall completely oblivious to the crouching figure who was no more then a few feet away.

The second the sentinel had passed him, he moved. He was quick and as silent as a shadow while he leapt atop the stone embankment. As he began his silent dash tword the 30 year old guard his hand left his weapon and took it's place at his side. He was a foot away when the guard spun around, and by then it was too late. The youth seized him by the head and jerked his head in an unnatural degree. It snapped with a crunch as the man slumped to the waiting arms of his killer. The figure in black wasted no time as he pitched the still warm body over the wall and into the cover of the old twisted tree that had offered the assassin sanctuary just a moment ago. The figure fell with a thud and remained still.

He crouched on the stone wall like a gargoyle as he raised a pair of binoculars to his chocolate brown eyes. He stared out over the stretching horizon that was filled with sapphire pools of clear water and marble statues and pillars that reminded Taichi of ancient Greece. It would be easy in spite of all the security. The perimeter was not meant to facilitate top security. It would clash with the target's decadent lifestyle. There were plenty of guards who all wore black suits and shades to add to the intimidating nature of themselves, but there was even more places to hide. As he planned his rout he decided that he may not have to kill any other guards if he was careful.

The air was still now as he leapt from the stony wall and proceeded to glide through the courtyard from shadow to shadow. He was careful in his steps as he proceeded, for if he were forced to kill them all it would make the real mission far too difficult to be worth his while. He was payed for one death, all other murders would be a misuse of time. He ducked under the statue of a naked woman holding a vase. He was so tightly pressed to that sculpture that he felt the cool stone against his skin. He held his breath tightly as he listened to the sound of footfalls to his left. The man was continuing with his patrol, completely unaware.

Tai smiled darkly as he sprinted from his hiding place for the rear entrance to the large white mansion that was no more then several feet away. He was fast as he made his way from the last potential hiding place to the large glass door. He tried the lock only to find that the security was as much the joke he had imagined it to be earlier. He pushed it open and slipped through the threshold before the man could turn. Tai was careful as he softly slid the door back to place. It clicked softly as the bolt snapped into place.

He debated locking it, before finally deciding it would be noticeable if someone recalled it having previously been open. Granted it would be a minor discrepancy, but he would be better off if no one decided to investigate out of curiosity.

He slipped through the kitchen which was methodically clean, and just as overly done as the property. It was fitted with marble countertops and shimering ornate faucets. There was a large steely refrigerator pressed against the wall that looked capable of housing enough food for a small army. Tai didn't like this target, not that it mattered of corse, but he didn't like him. He was the kind to show off too much. This kitchen was made to house great culinary feats, but Taichi assumed it had been put to use no more then four times since it's construction. Odds being that the owner had his meals delivered for lack of time. He was too cheap to pay for a cook, he barley kept a single maid to tend to the entire house.

Taichi didn't know why this man had to die, he didn't ask. It wasn't his job to know these things, all he needed to know was the basic information on the target. Thermal scans had placed him on the upper level while surveillance had identified the room to be his study.

He would be alone... the man had no family or real friends. He preferred to distance himself and that included from his protection. No guard was permitted on that floor. Taichi smirked softly at how easy this man was making it for him. He would achieve his objective with no more complications. Taichi slipped up the stairs, careful to avoid the solitary security camera which was not adequately placed to assure a wide range of vision. The house had some beautiful qualities to it though. On the walls hung a vast array of paintings that were tempting Taichi to pause to admire them. he ignored it, no time, plus he didn't want to regret part of the job... he kept moving down the hall until he came to the large honey-gold wood of the target's study.

Taichi looked at the door for a moment. Then the room itself. The wallpaper was a soft cream with rich wooden moldings. To the door's left there stood a small table that was big enough only to accommodate the vase which was filled with flowers. The vase was of corse designer. It shimmered with rainbow hues where the light touched it. But the flowers were quite beautiful in a different way. Small sprigs of heather, like that which grew beyond the perimeter.

Tai knew why he had heather in the vase, why it was planted sporadically through the estate. His target, Richard Moteya, once had a wife by the name of heather. She had died years ago, and after her death Richard had went through this metamorphosis to the man he now was. It was as though heather was the chain that tethered him to humanity, without her he had drifted off into business. Through that business he had amassed an even greater fortune, but made quite a few enemies. One of those enemies was the reason tai had been sent.

He reached to his utility-belt and withdrew a black instrument that looked somewhat cylindrical, though modified to a grip. His eyes darkened as he took it in his hand and with a flick of his thumb released the trigger. With a whoosh of steel the tool snapped outward in three sections which snapped to one another in a silvery curved scythe. The weapon was quick and utterly silent. He preferred using weapons like this, ones that wouldn't leave a trace as a spent shell and slug would from a gunshot. The blade was sharpened with lasers to an edge no wider then a molecule, then the steel was chemically treated to augment strength. It would be brutally fast and infinitely efficient. Thought it would be bloody... tai wasn't fond of that part of the job, the blood. Even after he would shower he would still be able to feel the coppery liquid on his skin. He hated that part.

His dislike of the gore aside, it was time to do his job. He stepped to the door and knocked sharply several times. Almost immediately he heard the bellowing voice of the target. He snarled out a long string of curse words. Taichi waited a moment before rapping again, this time louder then before. He continued until he could pick up the footsteps of his prey. As predicted he was thundering out to tear into the idiot guard who was persistently irritating him during his work. The shiny brass nob turned suddenly as the door was jerked open.

The man stared at tai in shock. His face was bitter and old, even when partially hidden under the thick grey beard and moustache which was meticulously trimmed.. The man was still unaware of who Taichi was, and though he was shocked to see this strange young man standing right here in the middle of his guarded home he was not afraid. Taichi didn't let the moment linger to two. If the man thought about it he would likely scream for help. Before the man could move a single step back Taichi had raised up the scythe. When the realization did hit him it was too late.

Taichi whipped the edge of the weapon down over the man's throat. Tai cringed lightly as he felt the splatter against his skin. He was used to blood, he made his living off of it, but he still didn't like the way it felt on his skin. He was born to blood, it was his place in life. The first cut went deep enough to cut off the voice box. Taichi moved almost like a dancer as he spun around and in one fluid motion cut to the vertebrae. The steel scraped bone and as he pulled back the blade the man was dead, hands still clutching the gaping throat. He clicked the bloody weapon back to it's compact form and returned it to it's place at his belt.

He pulled the body farther into the room and then let it drop with a saturated thud off dead and wet flesh. Tai went to his belt and withdrew a squeeze bottle which he emptied over the corpse and then the floor around him. He was stone as he did this, a professional. After the bottle was empty he lay it on the man's chest. The air smelled thick with blood and Taichi almost gaged as he felt the warm beads of the target on his flesh. He shook the thought off, it was just blood, the same substance he had seen a thousand times before.

He withdrew a cylindrical rod from his side and unscrewed the cap which he tossed atop the man's chest next to the bottle. He pointed the thing away from himself before activating it. It flashed bright red as the tip erupted with a geyser of red fire. The flare stung his eyes as he held it away from himself. he turned to the man who lay there saturated in the liquid that Taichi had brewed himself for this purpose. It was a thin gel now that it was exposed to open air. He reached over with the flare and touched the crimson fire to the substance. With a great whoosh of flames the body was engulfed. Taichi backed away as the floor around it sizzled with the same red fire as flesh was being burned to ash. The smell was nauseating, thus he backed away quickly doing what he could not to breath the black smoke that was now billowing from the remains which were now more bone and ash then flesh.

Taichi turned and touched the flare to the wall. The creamy wallpaper was quick to catch. Tai walked around the room and proceeded to torch all the walls and furniture. The flare was designed to burn hotter then regular fire and thus all was quick to catch the whole room ablaze. Tai walked to the door and turned back to the flaming skeleton which was still burning, and would continue to burn until it was no more then ash. He tossed the flare away back into the room as he stared at the charred remains.

"Mission completed.." he muttered darkly as his hand found it's way to a silver band on his upper arm. He depressed a key on the band which brought it to life with crackling energy. The band was made to act as a portable cloaking device, similar to the one used by certain mechs. It was however a device he couldn't rely on indefinitely due to the short half-life of its power cell. But now as he stood there with the fire spreading it became a more useful tool. It stung his skin as he looked down to his slightly reddened hands which rippled softly as if viewed from under water. He was not crazy about the personal cloaking device. The thing was seriously a pain in the ass. It burns when on, and watching your body turn transparent is somewhat nauseating.

The flesh rippled outward into the scenery as though it were suddenly smoke which dissipated away into the clear air. He could feel the band on his arm burn as he ran down the hall in a slow and yet hasty stride. He was not comfortable enough in the half hour of power stored in the fusion cells. The fire was spreading and as it did the alarm filled the air as the sea of guards panicked. Some rushed to summon the colony control operatives, who would be able to put out the blaze which was already consuming the upper wing of the mansion. Some had brushed past the spectral Taichi in the futile effort of rescuing their employer who was obviously smoking and inattentive to where he tossed a seemingly spent cigarette. That's what they would assume.. It would seem strange that he was completely consumed in the fire and that it could spread so fast even in a non-upgraded home.

Taichi wished all his targets would be this simple. He only had to take two lives, his target, and the one unavoidable sentry who quit possibly would appear to have fallen and snapped his neck in the impact. Tai cleared the house and turned back only to find the beautiful architecture and furnishing already smoldering thick black smoke which lifted high into the shallow sky of the colony. By the time the colony employees came with sonic blasters to smother the fire it would be too late. By now the room had been purged of all that reeked of assassination. Sure they would consider it a possibility, but they would let it drop because the officials were not in the habit of taking up impossible investigations during the beginning of a war. The marauders were pressing the powers that be to a conflict by the gorilla war tactics. The winds of change were howling out there in the vacuum of space. Taichi could hear the low mournful cries of those winds out there beyond the dome, but he was relatively sure of his own survival for the simple fact that there would always be a need for men of his talent. And no matter how hard the winds of change would blow the sands of civilization the nature of man could not be changed so easily. He would always be needed for there would always be jobs for assassins.


Taichi walked down the sunlit street with a slow and leisurely stride. He passed the civilians who were dressed in torn clothing and rags worn as cloaks to shield themselves from the harsh nature of their world. The sky was a pale yellow that carried the sun's rays through the gentle haze of brownish thick clouds. The street was abustle with motion and sound as the boy in the black outfit walked down the cracked street which was littered with refuse. He stood out amongst them in the fact that he was not dressed in rags, he wore baggy black pants with a tight muscle shirt of the same dark hue. His dark coat was out of place in the considerable heat of the drifter colony. There were no lush parks here or grassy fields here, simply an endless walkway of stone and steel. The shambled buildings loomed high on top of one another in a great series of dark towers that were inadequate in housing the thousands of lost soles who called this place home.

He stood upon a higher hill that allowed him to look out over the endless sea of suburbia which entwined together in a great entity composed of thousands and thousands of buildings each which was defaced by lack of upkeep or vandalization. He allowed his eye to wander down the main road which trailed the colony's personnel level which sat atop the machinery that maintained the colony's temperature and orbit.

The air smelled of spices that were wafting over from the nearby cart. A short Asian woman who wore wrinkles like some where makeup was selling stir-fry. There was a sheet of metal that sizzled with oil and some vegetables which crackled and smoldered under the heat. She stirred them as she periodically arranged the cubes of meat that was questionable as to what animal it originated as. Tai continued to walk down the street and as he turned a corner, felt a sharp point press to his back. He sighed in annoyance as he slowly turned to face the youth who held the blade to him. The boy was sweating nervously as he attempted to look menacing. The knife jabbed Taichi and it did hurt, but not anywhere near as much as he had been hurt. His eyes found the youth's with a strange darkness that sent a shiver down the spine.

"Give me your money asshole! Right now!" the mugger screamed in a frantic rage. Taichi looked down into him with a gaze that caused the youth to take a step back. He stepped forward and the youth held the knife more menacingly. Taichi stared into him and the youth was afraid. Those eyes were darker then black as they focused on him. He could see his own face reflected in the dark globes which shimmered with an icy light.

"No..." he whispered darkly as the boy's eyes went white with fear. In that instant he pulled up his hand which was holding the gun that the youth never saw. It halted an inch from his face, in a speed that was blinding. The pulse weapon hummed angrily as it remained fixed to the boy's face. He was no older then thirteen and now as he looked into the face of the young assassin looked ready to urinate in his pants. Tai could smell the fear in the air as he laughed softly before turning his back on the boy and walking away, leaving the young mugger standing there in a stupor.

Taichi entered the bar and took in the sudden culture shock as his ears were assaulted by loud music. The place was called the inferno. The name was scrolled across the bar in sheets of steel lettering which was illuminated by a red spotlight that gave the word a more sinister appearance. The room was dark and illuminated only by the neon glow of various signs that hummed softly with a strangely eerie radiance. The bar was far from triple A status, it was a cesspool of dark and concealing shadows and scorch marks on the walls.

The band was in and now stood upon the cold grey steel stage. They were playing a gothic rock song that blared through the amplifiers. The lead singer stood there rocking back and forth to his own music that was being played upon his dark guitar. The singer had a cold voice that was undistinguishable as to wether it was a voice all his own or just one used for the song. But after looking at his features he assumed the former. The youth had jet-black hair that was kept in long twisting dreadlocks. He was pale as a sheet of ivory that clashed with his thick black tattoos, which trailed from his shirtless torso to the brow of his forehead. They snaked around his cheek with patterns of bones and ribs which hooked like fangs. He was definitely at home in the inferno.

The clientele was also a shade away from Stirling. There were many colorful characters, some were teenage girls clad in black leather skirts and halter tops so tight that Taichi wondered how high a pain-tolerance it would take to put them on. Some were obviously prostitutes and showing no degree of shyness as they rubbed up to their prospective clientele.

A tall man sat at the bar and nursed a thick mug of one of the more potent alcohols. Tai sat next to the man at the bar and observed him as he waited for the server. The man had a thick black beard that was not neatly trimmed or kept up. He wore a set of body armor that, as tai observed, was not military in origin. Tai also noted the massive gun on his hip that looked like it had received more maintenance in the last two days then the man had in the last two years.

A platinum-blond moved across from him at the bar and smiled sweetly. He returned the grin with a slight upward turn to his own mouth. She was very attractive from her well defined curves to her painted red lips. Her eyes were the kind of green that can make someone stop to stare. They shone like newly cut emeralds kissed by the sun. they matched her soft skin and creamy complection all too easily. She was a beautiful girl in almost every aspect of the word. Tai chuckled as he noted that so many of the other customers were staring with glossy eyes at her breasts that were hard to conceal behind the revealing shirt that had earned her the bigger tips.

She had a small heart tattoo on her cheek, the small marking didn't do anything for Taichi personally, but he did note that it didn't hurt her appearance at all. In fact he assumed some might find it a turn on.

"You like it? I just had it done this morning..." she offered as she began mixing his 'usual.'

"It's not really my thing, Harmony." he shrugged.

"Oh please.. How long have you been coming here tai? At least two years... you should know by now how much I loath that name." he smiled softly.

"Fine, Harm. It just makes you sound mean."

"Who's to say I'm not?" she quipped.

"Wait a sec, not your thing? You're not into tattoos? You have a tattoo right here!" the woman lifted up his arm and pulled back his sleeve to expose his wrist. The tan flesh was marred with the thick black emblem of a sun. tai pulled back his hand and stared at the girl with a fierce expression that she had not seen from the quiet young man before. She stepped back as he continued to stare with a dark ferocity. He pulled his sleeve back over his wrist with no levity in his actions.

"Don't ever do that again..." he warned.

"But.. I j-just..."

"Don't...." he replied softly as his eyes shifted from her emerald green orbs to his amber hued drink. He raised it to his lips and took a deep gulp that burned like battery acid on his throat. She stared at him for a moment before moving on to another customer. He watched from the corner of his eye as the kind waitress continued serving the scum of humanity. And perhaps he belonged with them.. Another soul that had been lost to the dark world that humanity now had been damned to.

He listened to the voice of the singer, the man with the hateful tone that appealed to so many but also repelled Taichi so profoundly. He listened as he drank for a time, allowing himself time to absorb the nature of his life. He looked at them, the demons in human disguise who took refuge within this bar. Thugs, prostitutes, thieves, and of corse killers like himself. he finished off the drink and withdrew the small black laptop from his deep pocket.

He pressed in his personal password then accessed his bank account. He read the figure and found a light grin touch his lips. The client had already paid. Good.. That's one less person to hurt. Some of them were too slow and would require a visit, or in some cases a lesson. But this guy paid well and he was quick to pay for the assassination of his competitor. Tai sighed heavily as he clicked the laptop off and returned it to its place in his coat.

He turned his gaze over to the angelic woman at the bar. She was cleaning up a pool of blood left by one of the many bar fights. She had a look in her eyes that Taichi tried so hard to ignore. It was a look he saw in the eyes of a lot of people nowadays. A silent despair that began in the soul and leaked outward through the eyes, like tears of blood. The look was there, and tai saw it all too clear. Just as clearly as he saw the marks on the beautiful young woman's arms left by the needles. He stared at the malignant red marks with silent disdain.

"The species is fucked..." he muttered under his breath with disgust as he stood. He tossed the appropriate change on the bar before making his way back out of the inferno, and strait into hell.

The horizon stretches off into a world we cannot yet conceive.

From the great distance of years we cannot see far enough to know the destination.

It looms before us as the thundering of storm clouds which rumble far away.

We make our future with each breath and each sin

live today and revel in it.

For the dark horizon grows one day closer.

Not the end...