Cuz I'm an indecisive idiot, this particular author note / section used to be about me discussing how a lot of fanfics posted were about the more familiar ships like Taiora and Sorato, and how I wanted to do more variety with this series, which is basically what BlondeEko means with that review from two years ago. Putting that up, just in case that becomes unclear.


On the shores of the sea, in a realm called the Dark Ocean, were the realm's rulers. As much monarchs as gods were they, vessels and envoys of the forces of shadow and light.

Those facets of them, one could not soon determine from a glance.

From the human perspective, Dagomon might appear very strange indeed. Though his body was akin to that of an octopus or a dragon or an amateurishly crafted human, coated in a layer of translucent liquid on blue false flesh, clear red wings jutted out from his back.

The aquatic beast towered over the other being as much as a multi-story building would have, and his arms and legs were bundles of tentacles wrapped together and held together by some manner of decoration. Remarkably, one could find a pair of Holy Rings on his right leg, the sort of divine artifact that even angelic Digimon commonly wore one of.

But the other was quite different from Dagomon, and much more ordinary from the Homo Sapien sociopolitical/visual perspective.

The body's age was nineteen, younger or older would not seem fitting. Her sole garments were a simple red dress and blue jacket (which, yes, did imply that she was barefoot and barehanded and bareheaded, just to clarify things excessively. Even though her identity was obvious, the narration rambled on) and nothing more. Her eyes were a clear russet, a brighter shade of the color than Dagomon's eyes, and aglow.

Directed by her will and his will, the energies coursed from them into a miniature object, one that was devoid of shape and color and substance.

What they were doing was nothing less than surreal, for what they were doing was create an entirely new dimension from scratch, forged from the fused power of shadow and light. Cosmic forces of pure creation surged around them, hungering to swallow them both.

These forces were akin to roaring winds and blazing thunder and all-consuming fire and trembling earth and a tidal wave, and they were distinct from those things as well.

It was merely a simple metaphor, for mere statements or sights (at least, from 3D perspectives) could truly convey what an act of creation looked like. I mean, just look at what Arceus had done, that was random as sheer #ยค##. Neither were novices in creating Digital Worlds, however, and neither would succumb to these meager sideshows, not when the Great Work was nearing its completion.

The worldly weaving seemed to tremble, however it looked, perhaps (or partly) in anticipation of its birth. Then, the cosmic conflagration erupted in full.

Plumes of emerald thunder began to pour out of the cosmic egg, but that was only what could be physically seen of the entire sordid multidimensional process, of its rebellion against the space and the time that it was embedded in.

In purely the visual sense, the dimension-child lashed out at its parents and its surroundings, sending plumes of bright orange thunder hazaphardly around, but their universal spawn acted against the space and the time it was embedded into in ways beyond what could be seen with eyes no matter how acute or broad in their scope.

As though the celestial forces it was emitting hardly fazed her (perhaps they truly did not, mind you), Kari stepped forwards towards the creation, however it looked. Softly, she draped her arms around the cosmic egg. Strangely, the rampaging infant dimension seemed to be calmed by that simple gesture.

But then again, most of these proceedings were quite surreal and irrational, so perhaps that was to be expected.

Cradling the cosmic egg, Kari took a single step forwards, striding effortlessly into the space between space and time. The faded beach site and the obsidian waters were left behind her, and her surroundings shifted, into pure white.

Her surroundings appeared like an infinite void of white and gray light... perhaps, it made more sense to state that spacetime itself held a color in the dimension that the Dark Ocean god of light had entered, but that was merely idle meandering, for terms such as 'where' and 'when' did not apply where she was now.

Where she was now was the primordial/pandimensional void above/outside/beyond normal spacetime (again, 'above' and 'outside' implied that 3D geometries were relevant, so sorry about that there), the nothingness in which the dimensions were suspended/liberated to live and expand and perhaps die as well.

In a visual only expressible through vague metaphor:

The world egg that Hikari was carrying might be said to then take on a concrete form: A Digiegg with a white shell, adorned by red or brown or grey flamelike patterns. Their Digiworld spawn detonated in her embrace, erupting into a cosmic conflagration of unnameable and incomprehensible forces that moulded space and time and physics and metaphysics and everything in-between from grand nothingness.

Truthfully, that was but one explanation for how it might appear: The creation of worlds entire eluded both human understanding and Digimon understanding, and attempting to water down the whole cosmic shebang into a series of images or words that one could understand was a foolish and pointless act. Human physicists still tried though, good on them, mate.

The newly born Digital World was lifeless still; give it time, it had existed for barely five minutes, jeez.

Where most Digital Worlds were either masses of empty space with the odd planet/star/other celestial object around, or a humorous sort of landscape with literal infinitudes of earth and sky in all directions, this particular dimension was different from either yet similar as well.

Simply put, it was a metaphysical realm, a place without substance and solidity, and with altogether more mutable physical laws, and where time did not exist other than as an idle speculation. Kinda screwy in concept, but tolerable.

However, that was not all that they had caused: Whether through intent or accident, it occurred that the forces generated affected her as well as the several 'adjacent' dimensions (again, the spatial terms involved were watered down to make sense in terms of 3D geometry, that being what most Digimon and humans understood).

Subjected to forces beyond even her ability to understand and even her ability to endure, what happened to the Dark Ocean's god of light was perhaps logical onto itself, or perhaps not.

What had happened to her, from the forces exerted by multiple dimensions warring with one another as they were forced to 'realign' in some pandimensional manner, was that her body and consciousness had both been reduced to almost nothingness and shunted in some alternate reality/dimension/world/plane among the countless that existed, both spawned naturally and by them.

Disappointingly, the sensation felt cold as balls, shortlived though it and she both were. And like so, multidimensional fundamental forces about 82% beyond human understanding had slain a deity.

Dagomon looked, as only he could look. He looked upon the space of the dimension he was in. He looked upon the space of their dimension-child. He looked upon the space between dimensions. Hikari was nowhere to be found, in these three infinities, and he knew what had happened. It had, after all, happened many times before.

Dagomon shifted his higherworldly attentions to yet another dimension, and there she was. His Hikari had once again incarnated as Kari Kamiya on one particular earth, one with the same fundamental history as she had centuries ago.

The eldritch horror did not understand this conundrum, on this occasion or any other.

Hikari was the one who was his.

Hikari was the one for whom he had searched and reached through all the worlds for.

Hikari was the one who carried the Crest of Light in her soul.

Hikari was the one who was his only equal, his opposite, the only one in over a hundred dimensions worthy of his attention and his love.

Hikari was the one he had made immortal and unkillable.

Hikari was the one who he had made more than a god.

Hikari was the one who had made him more than a god.

Hikari was the one with whom he had birthed countless worlds.

Hikari was the one with whom he had destroyed countless worlds.

Hikari was the one with whom he had ruled the Dark Ocean for over twelve million years.

Hikari was the one who was his.

So why was it that every few centuries, his Hikari happened to become trapped as a human once again from being ripped apart by the multidimensional tides of worldly formation?

What precise quality was it that drew her back to that particular dimension, to that particular city, to that particular era?

What was it that imposed that cycle on creation itself, and forced her from his side?

It defied all logic, but it seemed that his god of Light was inextricably tied to her birth-world. It was as infuriating as it was puzzling. Why was that?

Shrugging off such speculations, he refocused on his Queen, gazing through the dimensional barriers that separated them physically and metaphysically. As always, she was a human infant, and would be amnesiac and powerless from the transition. He knew, or estimated, or recalled, that it would at least take 10 years and at most take 20 years, before her body and mind had matured enough to withstand the power of the Crest of Light.

That span of time hardly registered to him. Already he had outlived the eons, he contemplated somberly. A decade or two would scarcely be a drop in the ocean of his years. Though still seeing amusement in that knowledge, the Undersea Master set about resuming his normal activities and his normal state of consciousness.

Over the years that followed, he just kinda went about his usual business.

He ruled their dimension-wide empire/religion, tending to millions and billions and trillions of Deep Ones and Black-winged Ones, constructing and maintaining the temples devoted to their worship, in relative peace and quiet.

Every once in a while, Dagomon located beings in one of the dimensions, and forged either new Deep Ones or new Black-winged Ones from them. Their bodies were transformed beyond recognition, and their minds became wired to worship Dagomon and Hikari as gods. Once every couple of months, the otherworldly god of darkness could actually be seen to check in on Kari Kamiya on her parallel earth. She remained alive, and whole, and strong, and that was enough to satisfy him for the time being.

With surprising speed, twelve long years had gone by.

The first sign that he received that she was starting to remember, on some vague level of consciousness, came in the form of her suddenly appearing in their domain one day, near where a few Deep Ones had been imprisoned for their rebellion about 11,000 years ago. He sensed her immediately - he would recognize her Light anywhere, and set out towards her.

By the time he had arrived, there were only a handful of free Deep Ones where he had expected his fellow god.

To his grave disappointment, they had fed her lies - that she was to be their bride and serve only to rear their offspring - that she was to be merely their queen and oppose him rather than join him - before she had returned to that wretched world with a few other humans and Digimon.

On that occasion, he had found her characteristic kindness and compassion humbling, and he almost wept with sheer joy.

It was mind-boggling to him that she would ever wish to spend even a single second of her time on these lowly creatures when she was so far beyond them, in power and importance.

The second sign came several months later, when he noticed that the famous Demon Lord of Wrath was in his realm, which he had apparently been for weeks. He almost wanted to laugh when he heard the story, that these creatures were apparently capable of a feat such as banishing a Demon Lord. He was certain that his Hikari had played a vital role in that, nothing else made sense. Even as diminished and amnesiac as she generally was in that particular situation, she was still so much more than just another human.

Daemon was quickly allowed freedom after that, and Dagomon returned to his speculations. A few months later, he decided that it was time to take action about this matter, which brought us to here and now.

On the seashore, Dagomon stood alone. He extended his tentacles, protruding beyond physical space, into the cosmic membranes that separated the dimensions, the spaces that were thinner than atoms. An unearthly noise suddenly wailed out in sadness as reality struggled against Dagomon's will and violation of its underlying structures and barriers. He did not cease his efforts to traverse the dimensional barriers, and slowly but uncertainly, he managed to cause a gash in the very fabric of space itself in two parallel dimensions.

That was when it got intense. Seeming to have tired of attempting to reason with Dagomon, the forces he was attempting to subjugate decided then to repel the invader by any means necessary.

Strange forms of energy, beyond both naming and measuring, poured from the rift in more directions than 3D space encompassed and assaulted Dagomon without mercy or restraint. Wounds formed across his body. Portions of the data that composed him was either dissolved outright or consigned to some alternate dimension at random. A stray bolt of wrathful energies struck his eye, rupturing it open.

Dagomon felt no pain from any of that, and pushed on implacably. He would have his other, his equal, his Hikari, back at his side, and nothing would be allowed to stop him.

"Be patient, Hikari, I am returning," was Dagomon's sole thought as he forced his injured form through the spacetime distortion, hurtling towards the world of Digimon Adventure.

What then happened next, well, that was perhaps best left to the imagination.