One of the things that I really enjoyed about writing this special was that, due to the framing device of Mechmon telling the story to his friends, I could rely a lot more on straight up narration to set the stage. It sounds less like a story recalled first hand, and more like a legend or fable, and that's exactly what I was going for.
Chapter Two
Fredrik Caryston
Now, on to the story at hand. Hundreds of years later in Digital World Time, and eight years ago Human World Time, a sixteen-year-old boy named Fredrik Caryston was caught in an electrical storm on his way home. After his parents died when he was ten, he had to live in an orphanage, until just a short time earlier when he was emancipated and moved out on his own. This electrical storm triggered a power surge in several digital sources, creating a freak digital pulse that pushed Fredrik into the Digital World. He landed in the middle of a small village on Server where he met Garurumon. Both were loners with less than pleasant pasts, so they became fast friends. At the time Fredrik wanted to find a way home, and Garurumon agreed to help him.
The two decided to travel Server. They left the village and
found themselves face to face with a thief named Musyamon. Between Garurumon’s
fighting instincts and Fredrik, who knew martial arts, the duo was able to
defeat Musyamon. As a result, Garurumon Digivolved to WereGarurumon, and
Fredrik took the fallen Musyamon’s katana as his own. Because of
WereGarurumon’s fierceness in battle Fredrik gave him the name Fang.
Fredrik and Fang traveled together for the next year, making a name for themselves as heroes, until they found a pretty large town where many different types of Digimon lived together in peace. Fredrik and Fang were taken in by the grandmotherly Babamon, the owner and manager of a restaurant that she inherited from her husband Jijimon after he passed away. She let them stay in the spare room of the apartment above the restaurant, which was called Jiji’s Café. In exchange they helped in the kitchen a couple days a week and looked after the people in town. It became their home, and Fredrik, who had never been able to get close to anyone except Fang since the death of his parents, began to look at the townspeople as his new family.
It was nearly six months later that a new evil appeared. An evil stronger than Genocidemon. He was called DarklordVilemon. He was a green-skinned demon-like creature, twenty feet tall, with four broad bat-like wings and a mane of black hair around his neck. He had fierce red eyes, and in his talon-like hands he carried a sword and a staff. His body was protected by thick, strong black and copper armor. He was strong on his own, but also commanded a legion of hundreds of Vilemon, green bat-like creatures, and when he screamed the entire world seemed to shake.
Fredrik and Fang, the Heroes of Server, were called upon to face and defeat this evil that threatened to conquer the entire Digital World. They met him as he advanced from his latest stronghold toward the town that Fredrik and Fang called home. The Vilemon advanced first.
“There are hundreds of them,” said Fang, his voice a raspy growl.
“That won’t be a problem, will it?” Fredrik asked, running his fingers through his spiky hair.
“Of course not,” said Fang, pulling his hands from his pockets and baring his teeth and claws, “if anything I’m worried that there won’t be any for you.”
Fredrik smiled, “I think I’ll do alright.” He drew his katana from his belt.
The duo charged. The bat-like Vilemon circled overhead and fired pulses of sonic energy from their mouths. Fredrik and Fang dodged easily. Fang cupped his hands. Fredrik jumped up, landing his feet in Fang’s hands, and Fang tossed him up into the air. Fredrik kicked, catching several Vilemon with his feet and legs. Them he threw his weight, causing himself to spin, and swung his sword, slicing about a dozen Vilemon. They became data which dispersed harmlessly through the air.
Meanwhile Fang jumped up and spun calling, “Garuru Kick!” He kicked, crushing a dozen Vilemon. Then he slashed, flinging red blades from his claws at the thickest grouping of Vilemon. Three dozen more were shredded by the attack.
That’s when the Vilemon backed off and their master approached. Fredrik and Fang landed, standing side by side and facing their new foe.
DarklordVilemon looked down on them and sized them up. “You two are very strong. I’m not heartless. And I am going to need strong warriors in my army. Join me and I’ll let you live.”
“Would you spare the lives of this world’s Digimon, specifically the ones in the town that you have been advancing toward?” Fredrik asked, even though he knew what the answer would be.
“Of course not,” DarklordVilemon replied. “The town you speak of is in the site of my new palace.”
Fredrik grinned a wicked grin, “You are as likely to call off your attack on this world as I am to join you. Now surrender before we kill you.”
“Hmm,” DarklordVilemon said, “that’s too bad.”
Fredrik was fed up. He charged, Fang following by his side. The duo jumped up and attacked, but DarklordVilemon brandished his staff, tossing them effortlessly to the side. Then, while the duo hung in the air DarklordVilemon swung his staff, slamming them to the ground. Fredrik hit his head hard. He sat up. There was a cut in his forehead, and one of his ribs on the right side was broken. He looked over at Fang, who wasn’t in much better shape. He was holding his injured left arm and there was blood in the corner of his mouth.
DarklordVilemon turned in midair and started back toward his stronghold in the distance. He looked back over his shoulder and said, “I will give you six hours, and then I will return. If you have not changed your minds by then, you will die.”
“We need some help,” said Fang. “We won’t be able to win on our own this time.”
“No!” said Fredrik, slamming the tabletop where he sat with his fists. The duo had returned to Babamon’s café. They had bandaged their wounds and were discussing the situation. Baba was listening from her place in the kitchen. She remained silent. It was Burgermon, the waiter, who spoke up. “Come on Freddy,” he said, “you can’t do everything yourself.”
“I won’t put others in danger to cover my own failings,” Fredrik said. He stood up and headed for the exit. Fang followed hastily.
Once the two were outside Fang grabbed Fredrik by the arm and said, “I know you’ve been through a lot, but it’s okay to show some weakness every once in a while.”
“Not if you’re me it’s not,” said Fredrik. He twisted his arm from Fang’s grasp and looked across the street where a group of Koromon were playing. “The Digimon in this town are my family now. I was too young to do anything when my parents were in that car accident. I’ll be damned if I let my Digimon family die too.”
Fredrik walked for a while, Fang walking quietly at his side. Fredrik kept walking until he saw something that he never thought he’d see in the Digital World: a human man. The man was tall and slightly pale. He was dressed strangely, wearing a tattered black suite, tattered black gloves, and a bowler’s cap, the rim of which darkened the right side of his face. There was a bandage wrapped all the way up his right arm. Behind him stood a large red mech Digimon that took up the entire width of the street. The man saw Fredrik.
“You are Fredrik and Fang, the ones called the Heroes of Server,” the man said, “correct?”
“Yes,” said Fredrik, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Now, since you seem to know so much about us, why don’t you even up the score? Tell us who you are.”
“I’d be glad to. But first meet us outside of town.” The man jumped up onto a nearby roof and then jumped away. The mech flew into the air and followed. Fredrik and Fang gave chase. It wasn’t long before they found the man and his Digimon a good distance from the town border.
“Now that we’re here,” said Fredrik, facing the man, “tell me who you are.” Fang growled loudly.
“My name isn’t important now,” said the man. “I’m here because a threat has arisen that is great enough to threaten my home. I must know if you, the famous Heroes of Server, are strong enough to help me destroy it. Come at me so that I can sample your strength.”
“Sorry,” said Fredrik, “but I have my own enemy to worry about.”
“Our enemies are the same,” said the man. “I also seek to destroy DarklordVilemon.”
Fredrik smiled, tightening his grip on his sword. “Then I’ll fight you, but I have to warn you; I’m in a really bad mood today.”
The man was silent.
Fredrik charged and lunged, swinging his sword, but the man deflected it and punched Fredrik in the gut, sending him flying through the air. “Fredrik!” cried Fang, moving in the direction of his friend. But his way was blocked by the red mech’s massive fist. Fang turned to face the enemy who was nearly twice his size, just in time to see the mech’s left hand break apart and reform into a metal version of Fangs own claws. The claws glowed, and the mech slashed. Fang slid to the side, avoiding the attack, and kicked. His foot was deflected by the mech’s huge right hand. Fang kicked off of the hand, spun, and back kicked the mech in the face. Then he slashed with his own claws. The mech leaned back just in time to avoid serious injury.
Meanwhile, Fredrik flipped and landed on his feet in a crouch. He stood up and ran at his opponent, throwing his sword and distracting his foe just long enough for him to get in close. He punched at the man’s face, but his strike was deflected. The man attempted to counterattack by kneeing Fredrik in the gut, but he found his knee deflected by Fredrik’s own knee. Fredrik pushed himself up off of the man’s knee and kneed the man in the face. The man stumbled back, grabbing Fredrik and tossing him over his shoulder, but the damage was done. The man’s hat was thrown away. Fredrik recovered and looked at the man’s face. At the wound around the man’s eye.
“W-What are you?” Fredrik demanded, picking up his sword, Fang moving to stand by his side.
“I am Glary,” the man replied, returning his hat to its place on his head, “and you have passed my test.”
Next Chapter >>
Fredrik and Fang traveled together for the next year, making a name for themselves as heroes, until they found a pretty large town where many different types of Digimon lived together in peace. Fredrik and Fang were taken in by the grandmotherly Babamon, the owner and manager of a restaurant that she inherited from her husband Jijimon after he passed away. She let them stay in the spare room of the apartment above the restaurant, which was called Jiji’s Café. In exchange they helped in the kitchen a couple days a week and looked after the people in town. It became their home, and Fredrik, who had never been able to get close to anyone except Fang since the death of his parents, began to look at the townspeople as his new family.
It was nearly six months later that a new evil appeared. An evil stronger than Genocidemon. He was called DarklordVilemon. He was a green-skinned demon-like creature, twenty feet tall, with four broad bat-like wings and a mane of black hair around his neck. He had fierce red eyes, and in his talon-like hands he carried a sword and a staff. His body was protected by thick, strong black and copper armor. He was strong on his own, but also commanded a legion of hundreds of Vilemon, green bat-like creatures, and when he screamed the entire world seemed to shake.
Fredrik and Fang, the Heroes of Server, were called upon to face and defeat this evil that threatened to conquer the entire Digital World. They met him as he advanced from his latest stronghold toward the town that Fredrik and Fang called home. The Vilemon advanced first.
“There are hundreds of them,” said Fang, his voice a raspy growl.
“That won’t be a problem, will it?” Fredrik asked, running his fingers through his spiky hair.
“Of course not,” said Fang, pulling his hands from his pockets and baring his teeth and claws, “if anything I’m worried that there won’t be any for you.”
Fredrik smiled, “I think I’ll do alright.” He drew his katana from his belt.
The duo charged. The bat-like Vilemon circled overhead and fired pulses of sonic energy from their mouths. Fredrik and Fang dodged easily. Fang cupped his hands. Fredrik jumped up, landing his feet in Fang’s hands, and Fang tossed him up into the air. Fredrik kicked, catching several Vilemon with his feet and legs. Them he threw his weight, causing himself to spin, and swung his sword, slicing about a dozen Vilemon. They became data which dispersed harmlessly through the air.
Meanwhile Fang jumped up and spun calling, “Garuru Kick!” He kicked, crushing a dozen Vilemon. Then he slashed, flinging red blades from his claws at the thickest grouping of Vilemon. Three dozen more were shredded by the attack.
That’s when the Vilemon backed off and their master approached. Fredrik and Fang landed, standing side by side and facing their new foe.
DarklordVilemon looked down on them and sized them up. “You two are very strong. I’m not heartless. And I am going to need strong warriors in my army. Join me and I’ll let you live.”
“Would you spare the lives of this world’s Digimon, specifically the ones in the town that you have been advancing toward?” Fredrik asked, even though he knew what the answer would be.
“Of course not,” DarklordVilemon replied. “The town you speak of is in the site of my new palace.”
Fredrik grinned a wicked grin, “You are as likely to call off your attack on this world as I am to join you. Now surrender before we kill you.”
“Hmm,” DarklordVilemon said, “that’s too bad.”
Fredrik was fed up. He charged, Fang following by his side. The duo jumped up and attacked, but DarklordVilemon brandished his staff, tossing them effortlessly to the side. Then, while the duo hung in the air DarklordVilemon swung his staff, slamming them to the ground. Fredrik hit his head hard. He sat up. There was a cut in his forehead, and one of his ribs on the right side was broken. He looked over at Fang, who wasn’t in much better shape. He was holding his injured left arm and there was blood in the corner of his mouth.
DarklordVilemon turned in midair and started back toward his stronghold in the distance. He looked back over his shoulder and said, “I will give you six hours, and then I will return. If you have not changed your minds by then, you will die.”
“We need some help,” said Fang. “We won’t be able to win on our own this time.”
“No!” said Fredrik, slamming the tabletop where he sat with his fists. The duo had returned to Babamon’s café. They had bandaged their wounds and were discussing the situation. Baba was listening from her place in the kitchen. She remained silent. It was Burgermon, the waiter, who spoke up. “Come on Freddy,” he said, “you can’t do everything yourself.”
“I won’t put others in danger to cover my own failings,” Fredrik said. He stood up and headed for the exit. Fang followed hastily.
Once the two were outside Fang grabbed Fredrik by the arm and said, “I know you’ve been through a lot, but it’s okay to show some weakness every once in a while.”
“Not if you’re me it’s not,” said Fredrik. He twisted his arm from Fang’s grasp and looked across the street where a group of Koromon were playing. “The Digimon in this town are my family now. I was too young to do anything when my parents were in that car accident. I’ll be damned if I let my Digimon family die too.”
Fredrik walked for a while, Fang walking quietly at his side. Fredrik kept walking until he saw something that he never thought he’d see in the Digital World: a human man. The man was tall and slightly pale. He was dressed strangely, wearing a tattered black suite, tattered black gloves, and a bowler’s cap, the rim of which darkened the right side of his face. There was a bandage wrapped all the way up his right arm. Behind him stood a large red mech Digimon that took up the entire width of the street. The man saw Fredrik.
“You are Fredrik and Fang, the ones called the Heroes of Server,” the man said, “correct?”
“Yes,” said Fredrik, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Now, since you seem to know so much about us, why don’t you even up the score? Tell us who you are.”
“I’d be glad to. But first meet us outside of town.” The man jumped up onto a nearby roof and then jumped away. The mech flew into the air and followed. Fredrik and Fang gave chase. It wasn’t long before they found the man and his Digimon a good distance from the town border.
“Now that we’re here,” said Fredrik, facing the man, “tell me who you are.” Fang growled loudly.
“My name isn’t important now,” said the man. “I’m here because a threat has arisen that is great enough to threaten my home. I must know if you, the famous Heroes of Server, are strong enough to help me destroy it. Come at me so that I can sample your strength.”
“Sorry,” said Fredrik, “but I have my own enemy to worry about.”
“Our enemies are the same,” said the man. “I also seek to destroy DarklordVilemon.”
Fredrik smiled, tightening his grip on his sword. “Then I’ll fight you, but I have to warn you; I’m in a really bad mood today.”
The man was silent.
Fredrik charged and lunged, swinging his sword, but the man deflected it and punched Fredrik in the gut, sending him flying through the air. “Fredrik!” cried Fang, moving in the direction of his friend. But his way was blocked by the red mech’s massive fist. Fang turned to face the enemy who was nearly twice his size, just in time to see the mech’s left hand break apart and reform into a metal version of Fangs own claws. The claws glowed, and the mech slashed. Fang slid to the side, avoiding the attack, and kicked. His foot was deflected by the mech’s huge right hand. Fang kicked off of the hand, spun, and back kicked the mech in the face. Then he slashed with his own claws. The mech leaned back just in time to avoid serious injury.
Meanwhile, Fredrik flipped and landed on his feet in a crouch. He stood up and ran at his opponent, throwing his sword and distracting his foe just long enough for him to get in close. He punched at the man’s face, but his strike was deflected. The man attempted to counterattack by kneeing Fredrik in the gut, but he found his knee deflected by Fredrik’s own knee. Fredrik pushed himself up off of the man’s knee and kneed the man in the face. The man stumbled back, grabbing Fredrik and tossing him over his shoulder, but the damage was done. The man’s hat was thrown away. Fredrik recovered and looked at the man’s face. At the wound around the man’s eye.
“W-What are you?” Fredrik demanded, picking up his sword, Fang moving to stand by his side.
“I am Glary,” the man replied, returning his hat to its place on his head, “and you have passed my test.”
Next Chapter >>
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