Kesshite - Never
Suru - Let
Iku - Go
Have you ever had your deepest desires fulfilled and then destroyed not even a minute later? Have you ever had your wildest dream become reality, only to wake up and realise they're just that- Dreams?
"Hell yeah!" The boy cheered as his master, the mighty and powerful Myotismon, rose to his full potential, obtaining a larger, more intimidating form. His scarlet body rippled and pulsed with newfound power. The sight sent a wave of pride through his system. He had helped make this happen; had suffered through pain and humiliation, from both his enemies and his allies, for this moment.
Demidevimon, his only real companion since their days under Etemon's employ, hovered excitedly over his head, eager for the praise, and more importantly, the reward they would surely receive for all the effort they put into getting him here.
"Now that's what I call 'large and in charge'!" said Demidevimon as he perched himself on the boy's head.
The young boy covered his ears as his master released a guttural roar loud enough to make a deaf man flinch. "Might want to add 'loud and proud' to that list, buddy," he called over his ringing ears. Once he was absolutely sure his ears weren't bleeding, he called out, "How you feelin', boss?"
Their master did not reply. He looked down at them, as he often did in his throne room, his lips twisting into a cruel, disturbing grin, revealing large razor sharp teeth. Despite his excitement, the boy could not help the shiver of fear that went down his spine. Something wasn't right about that grin.
Have you ever had everything you've ever believed in swept out from under you because you were too focused on the high to notice the rapidly approaching ground?
He was jerked back to reality by the sound of tires grinding against tar. He turned and huffed in amusement and annoyance as the digidestined arrived, no doubt here to oppose his master and 'save the day'. The pesky band of self-righteous pricks had long been a pain in his side, basically forcing him and his partner out of their jobs with Etemon and then becoming the bane of his existence under Myotismon.
Suffice to say, he was going to enjoy watching them get crushed under Myotismon's feet.
Two of their digimon, Agumon and Gabumon, had already digivolved. He couldn't help but feel envious and a little angry, at the sight of their digivices. So much power literally in the palm of their hands, wasted on foolish acts of heroism, and for what, a moment of clear conscience?
If he and Demidevimon had that kind of power, they wouldn't need to cheat and steal to wouldn't have to slave themselves to stronger digimon for protection. Everything would be so much easier if they just had one of those little devices that the digidestined seemed to flaunt around like children's toys.
….Oh well, not like it was going to do them any good now. And hey, if he's lucky, maybe he could pry one from their cold, dead hands once his master was done with them.
It's always good to look on the bright side of things.
"Oh, where are our manners?" Demidevimon's quip got their attention, though it didn't stay supposed that's bound to happen when there's a giant red demon in fur pants in the crowd. "Allow us to introduce the new and improved VenomMyotismon!"
"He's the true king of the undead,' the boy added, enjoying the uncertainty in their expressions. It wasn't fear, but it was a start and he wasn't picky about his victories. Gaiamon knows he didn't get enough of them. "And I think it goes without saying that he's the 'un' and you guys are SO the 'dead'."
Have you ever looked back on an incident and realised that in retrospect, you probably should've seen it coming a mile away?
"Power…," VenomMyotismon snarled. He'd heard enough. It was time to feed. "I'm….hungry!"
The boy could not stop the shiver. He did not like the way his master was eying everyone, including him and his partner.
Demidevimon, oblivious to his partner's dread, was more than happy to deliver the good news. "No problem, boss. There are all those hypnotized people just lying there waiting for ya!"
The boy shook his head and pushed his anguish to the back of his mind. Now was not the time for second thoughts. He had a master to serve and a world to conquer. Not to mention the field day he was going to have picking the pockets of the soon to be dead digidestined.
And they say crime doesn't pay.
"Yes…." There was that disturbing grin again. "But I think I'll have a light appetizer to start things off."
Because let me tell you…..
It all happened so fast. With impressive speed for a digimon his size, VenomMyotismon reached down and grabbed both him and Demidevimon in his giant red hand. The boy did not move. He couldn't understand what was happening. Surely their master wasn't about to do what he thought he was going to do, not after everything they had done for him.
Demidevimon, who was being pressed into his shoulder by VenomMyotismon's thumb, tried to struggle free. "H-Hey! W-What are you doing?!"
Their master did not respond, only letting out a sadistic laugh that they had become dreadfully familiar with. He raised them higher until they were right above his giant mouth. The colossal beast gave them one last evil smile before opening his mouth, revealing very large teeth, each about as long as the boy's leg and as wide as his torso and looked sharp enough to bite through an armored vehicle. He began to inhale, causing a large amount of air to rush past the boy's head like turbulence. From the boy's point of view, it was like staring into a black hole. He wanted to say something, to beg his master to reconsider or at the very least, spare Demidevimon, but no words passed his lips. His mouth stayed open, stuck that way from shock. But it was not fear that kept him silent, but rather, it was habit. He had learned very early on that begging and screaming only worsened the punishment and he really didn't want to know what could possibly be worse than this.
He could feel the hand around him begin to loosen its grip. As the colossal fingers moved, he had a brief moment to reflect on the irony of his situation. He had always wished that one day, he and Demidevimon would look down at Myotismon for a change, just to see what it would be like. How funny that such a small wish came with such a high price.
He closed his eyes so he wouldn't see it coming.
And then he was dropped.
Time seemed to slow down after that. He vaguely registered the horrified cries of the digidestined. He opened his eyes one last time to see them staring up at him with wide disbelieving eyes. There was an odd mix of expressions in the crowd. The keeper of friendship held his hands over the young eyes of hope and light in a foolish attempt to retain their innocence for just a little bit longer. Knowledge and reliability looked like they were going to be sick while sincerity looked ready to burst into tears at any moment. Even Gatomon, his and Demidevimon's fierce rival in the contest for Myotismon's favour, looked appalled to see the ones she considered minor nuisances meet their untimely demise. His eyes moved over to the keeper of love. Such an interesting expression she held. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that she looked sad to see them go.
Of course, that was just ridiculous. It had to be, what reason could she possibly have to miss them? Wasn't this what they wanted; two less enemies to deal with? Were the tables turned, he would be dancing on their graves with a smile on his face while Demidevimon laughed his wings off.
Speaking of Demidevimon….
His eyes moved to his partner. The bat digimon's rear was on full display for him as he tried in vain to fly away from his fate. Funny how that would be the last thing he saw.
He had fallen past the teeth at that point. He turned his body so that his front faced the heavens. He had hoped that by turning his back to the darkness, it would be a little easier to accept his fate.
Instead he watched as his master's jaws began to close and his last glimpse of light began to fade. Demidevimon was still trying to flutter his way to freedom, but all that struggling was starting to take its toll. His movements were becoming forced and sluggish and his laboured breath echoed in the seemingly unending darkness that would soon be their tomb. He silently etched on the little digimon, hoping that at least his one friend would survive while he fell further into darkness. For a while it looked like he was making progress. But just as all good in their lives, it was short lived. Like a small flame in an airtight box, the last of Demidevimon's energy sputtered before finally dying out and with it went the boy's hope, as delusional as it was.
As the jaws closed, the boy could do nothing else but close his eyes and let out a whimper. His fate had been sealed.
….It's not as funny as it sounds.
The shivers that went through his body were bittersweet. It meant he was alive, but what good would that do him right now? Being eaten was bad enough, but to then be bored to death while floating in the cold, unending void that was his former master's gut? That had to qualify as insult to injury or something.
He had stopped falling a while ago or at least he thought he did. It was too dark to tell. He didn't feel like he was still falling, but for all he knew, he could've just been falling for a really long time. It wasn't like he had a window to gauge to time or anything.
He curled up, wrapping his arms around his legs in an attempt to stop himself from shivering. Why did it have to be damn cold? Why did it have to be so damn dark? Growing up a lowly henchman to both Etemon and Myotismon, he had grown used to living in conditions, but this….. it was too much.
So cold. So dark. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to go…..to go…..
"...home?" The word echoed the void. Nanimon had once told him in one of his drunken rants that a digimon's last thoughts should be of home.
He wasn't a digimon, but the concept still applied, right?
He tried to picture it, a place where he truly belonged, but not much to mind. Etemon's base? No, he didn't even give them a bed, let alone a home. Myotismon's castle? Sure, they were given a cozy little cell to sleep in from time to time, but that was only if they did their job right which, now that he thought about it, wasn't very often. That never really bothered them though. They were usually too busy doing Myotismon's bidding to sleep much anyways.
So…. didn't that make them homeless? He thought of himself as many things; handsome, bombastic, king of the hill, but never a hobo. That was just sad.
Another piece of advice came to mind. It had come from who he considered the last digimon to ever want anything to do with them. Wizardmon, who was another rival of theirs, though more Demidevimon's than his if he was being honest. He hardly ever spoke to the odd digimon (something about that pointy hat just freaked him out), but the one time he had, Wizardmon had said that something about one's 'home' being less of a place and more of a concept, where one felt most happy. The words were lost on them at the time (hell, they're lost on him now ) and Demidevimon had even gone as far as calling him crazy which he was self aware enough to know that, coming from them, was really saying something.
He lets out a shaky breath as more shivers run up and down his spine. Dammit, all this 'home' nonsense was getting him nowhere!
He was so tired and the cold wasn't helping. He just wanted to sleep. To sleep and forget his failure. That had to be it. He failed to be a perfect little underling, just like he failed at everything else. That was the reason their master saw fit to punish them in such a brutal and unforgiving manner. He'd done something to upset his master and was now being punished accordingly.
But what was it that set his master off like this? Just what had he done to deserve such a tragic end?
Was it because they failed to make sure the digidestined never activated their crests? But he thought they had redeemed themselves when they brought him the eighth child. They had done their part; it was the other digidestined who ruined everything that time, not them.
Did they not work hard enough?
Back at Myotismon's castle, there was only one digimon, a Gazimon who really liked stethoscopes for some reason, who had a small amount of medical know-how. She had told them once that their lack of sleep was making their bodies weak and their minds unstable, yet they refused to get any rest until their tasks were complete, for if you are given a task by Myotismon, no matter how big or small, you'd best get it done or face the consequences.
Was that not enough?
Was it...something that Demidevimon did?
No…. no that couldn't be it. Granted, the number of blunders between them were as large as a Machinedramon, but he always covered up for the little bat in hopes that his little buddy would be spared. It never worked, Myotismon usually punished them both regardless, but he usually got the brunt of it. As long as his partner was okay, then he could live with the beatings, burns and other punishments for his mistakes.
It was the least he could do, after all.
So no, it couldn't have been Demidevimon. It had to have been him. It had to be! But why? There had to be a reason they were being punished. Their master wouldn't have done so otherwise….right?
Of course not! That was absurd! It was obviously his fault. There must've been something he could've done or perhaps, not have done, to prevent this from happening. He refused to believe that their master would eat them simply for the sake of doing so. That he had used them. That they were nothing more to him than tools to be broken or simply thrown away once they've outlived their usefulness.
They were more than that. They were loyal, the most loyal in fact, and they had worked so hard to prove that. There were so many digimon who left Myotismon's army, each with an excuse more pathetic than the last. But not them. They had stayed by their master's side when even Gatomon showed her true colours.
Their master knew that! He had to! He only punished them because they did something wrong or when he wanted them to do better. That's what he'd told himself for over half a year, the mantra he used whenever they were punished for their failures. Was it really all a lie? Had they really been wasting their time?
Though looking back on it all, I guess I was the one who had the last laugh. Because when you get down to it, even after everything that happened, I still managed to hold on to the one thing that was still precious to me.
He flinched as the sound of fluttering bat wings followed by frenzied chirping. Of course those little blood suckers would be here….
He couldn't even begin to list all the times they had bitten and scratched at his skin because his master wasn't in the mood to think of a better punishment. For such adorable creatures, they had some very sharp teeth. It even got to the point where Demidevimon developed chiroptophobia.
He never had the heart to point out the irony.
The fluttering and chirping got louder as they set upon him. He covered his ears, but it was pointless. In such a vast empty space the echoes bounced all over the place, assaulting his ears from all angles. Nails against a chalkboard was a freaking walk on the beach compared to this.
"Oh no... N-Not bats. I hate bats….," whimpered a familiar voice, barely audible among the sound of their coming demise.
He struggled to open his eyes. Scanning the inky blackness, he found not the bat shaped bundle of data and binary code he was used to seeing everyday, but instead saw a small light blue blob-like creature with ear-like appendages that it used to cover its red crescent moon-shaped eyes as it shook in fear. It seemed that in an attempt to make him easier to….'digest', VenomMyotismon's darkness had degenerated his best friend into his prior form, Pagumon.
Despite the situation, he couldn't help but think that he looked rather adorable in that form.
'Just like when we first met,' He thought. He found himself wondering how long ago that was.
He had been eight when he first fell into the digital world, much younger than the digidestined when they first set foot there and unlike them, he wasn't lucky enough to just stumble into a digimon willing to help him out. He had nothing but the clothes on his back and his cheap, two-button gameboy that had somehow fallen with him, despite it being the reason he ended up there in the first place. He wandered through a dense and dark forest, alone and terrified, for a day and a half before he was eventually 'rescued' by one of Etemon's lackies. While that may not seem like a long time to most, to a scared eight-year-old who didn't know which way was up, it was an eternity. Being the adorably naive toddler that he was, he was so grateful to the Elvis copyright that he saw no downside to pledging his undying loyalty to him.
It wasn't until a year later that he realised the orange monkey was completely off his rocker and by then it was too late. It was during that one year gap that he met Pagumon or rather, caught him after Etemon threw him into a crowd of digimon he had threatened into listening to him sing. Etemon, the king of dramatic flair that he was, loudly declared them partners, stating that "the Almighty Funk" had deemed it so. He then proceeded to sing an hour long song about partnership and funky friendship.
They were hesitant to interact at first, both being awkward and having a reputation for not meshing well with others, but seeing as no one else wanted to be around them at the time, they didn't really have much of a choice. It was either become friends or tell Etemon he was wrong, which never ended well for anyone. As jolly and, dare one say, comicall as he could seem, his temper was notoriously short and he had a talent for quite literally yelling someone to death.
Not wanting to go through another 'concert', the two sat down on opposite ends of a tree stump that may or may not have actually been a sleeping Woodmon, and had their first ever conversation.
Or at least tried to. It took a few minutes, but once the initial awkwardness had faded and Woodmon stopped chasing them, they discovered that they actually had a lot in common. They both had a delightfully twisted sense of humour, they were both incredibly mischievous and, most importantly, they both loved to cause trouble, specifically the kind that involve other people.
For a while, things were going great. They were inseparable. They spent all their time either going over the details of their next prank or implementing said prank and laughing their little butts off while their victims either hightailed it to the nearest restroom (which was usually a bush) or screamed about their hair being on fire.
It wasn't until he turned twelve that the problems really started.
He was there when the digidestined defeated Etemon. He had watched from his hiding place among the scattered debris of the pyramid base, eyes wide in awe and disbelief, as Etemon, screaming, cursing and promising his return, met a grizzly end.
Once the dust had cleared and the so-called 'heroes' had moved on, he was left alone, lost and purposeless, he found himself thinking 'what do I do now?'
He supposed he should be happy about this, right? He was free now, able to go wherever he wanted without having to look over his shoulder for fear of being dragged back by Etemon's goons. He could leave and have a life….
And that was the million-dollar question: what the heck do they do now? where do they go?The only places in the digital world that he knew were Etemon's pyramid base and the forest he arrived in and he really didn't want to test his chances of surviving there on his own.
And say they did find somewhere to squat around in. Then what? The only life he had known since his untimely arrival into the digital world was as Etemon's lacky, and not even a very good one, only ever been trusted with menial chores like cleaning and serving food to the bigger, meaner digimon. Now that he thought about it, the most exciting thing they had done was acting as Etemon's jester after he killed the last one for making jokes about his singing voice.
He wouldn't lie and say it was a glamorous or even easy life, but it was simple, doable, and that was all he really needed. He didn't have some great ambition to carry out, a desire to be remembered as anything more than what he was. With Etemon he had a purpose, an identity. He was Etemon's lackey, nothing more, nothing less. He never strived for anything more, never needed to. He never wanted to.
But now all that was gone, stolen from him by seven jerks who couldn't accept how things were.
So what if Etemon wanted to rule the digital world? That's life! The strong will always seek to control the weak and the clever will always manipulate the foolish. That was one of the first things he had learned under Etemon. Why did they have to change that? Why did they have to ruin everything?!
Angry, confused, scared and tired, he did the only thing he could think of. He wept. He fell to his knees and cried for hours on end until he ran out of tears. After that he just wanted to sleep. The emotional turmoil combined with the day's events had taken its toll, leaving him mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. Lacking the motivation to go back to the now desolate base he had once called home, he let his body fall to the ground like a puppet cut from its strings. Knowing, but not caring about how much his body was going to hate him when woke up for not finding a more comfortable spot to take a nap, he closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.
He didn't know long he had slept for, but when he woke up, his body sore and his mouth tasting like sand, he was surprised to see Demidevimon, who had digivolved a few weeks after his tenth birthday, staring down at him with a confused look on his face. When the virus-type asked him what his problem was, he responded with an equally confused expression before gesturing to destruction around them.
Demidevimon scanned their environment before shrugging, stating that the place always looked quite trashy to begin with and that he knew of a town not too far away where they could sell some of the junk Etemon had stolen.
"Trust me, kid, you stick with me and we'll go so far, even mega levels will have nothing on us!" It was not really the words that won him over, but rather how they were said. Demidevimon always had a charisma of confidence that could convince him that he knew what he was doing even when it was obvious he did not. It was one of his favourite traits about the digimon.
As time passed, his memories of the 'real world' growing more and more vague as the days passed, he slowly began to get used to the world around him. They had tried their hand at honest work, a casual job as delivery boys in a little town on the fringes of what was once Etemon's territory, but growing up working for a wannabe tyrant had made them….. opportunistic.
It started small, just some simple curiosity. They weren't looking for trouble, really they weren't. They were just seeking answers to harmless questions.
"Why is this package so heavy?"
"What could Raremon want to do with this?"
"Doesn't she have a boyfriend for this?"
"Wait a second, this isn't where he lives."
With every secret they uncovered, each one juicier than the last, ideas began to form in the back of their heads, like little devils whispering in their ears.
"I bet Sunflowmon would be very grateful if we told her about this."
"I bet the authorities would pay good money for this information."
"How desperate do you think he is to keep this a secret?"
It didn't take them long to build up a small fortune in information and blackmail material, trading secrets for money and favors, and at the end of the day they'd sit together in the abandoned shack they were squatting in and count their earnings.
Of course, this didn't give them the best reputation. It didn't take long for an angry mob to form and drive them out.
This became their life for a while, traveling town to town, using the skills they learned as henchmen, (lying, scamming, stealing, ect) to get by. They never stayed in one place for too long, the townsfolk usually caught on to their game and chased them out, not that they minded. It just gave them a chance to increase their fortune in a different place.
Then one day everything changed once again. They were approached by one of Myotismon's agents, a digimon by the name of Dracmon. He told them that his master was impressed by all the unrest they had been causing and offered them a place in his army, promising them riches beyond their wildest dreams.
In the end it wasn't a difficult decision. It was their chance to make it big, to be more than mere nuisances to the local populus. The rewards sounded amazing, but more than that, it was the fact that Myotismon had actually sought them out that made them accept.
Under Etemon they were nothing more than slaves, useless beyond anything more than physical labour, but this was different. This powerful digimon, who apparently had an entire army of other powerful digimon, wanted them specifically. Surely that meant that he knew they'd be more useful to him as something more than mere foot soldiers, right?
If he had the energy to scoff, he would. They should have known nothing would change, that they were better off on their own. They were stupid and niave, and in the end it cost them the only thing of value they had left, their lives.
Ignoring the cold biting at his skin, he began to swim through the darkness towards the whimpering little devil. It was a slow process and each movement took far more energy than it should have, but he didn't let that stop him. He reached out, his fingers lightly grazing over the digimon's skin. The touch, despite being brief, caused Pagumon to curl further into himself. The boy nearly drew his hand back himself; the digimon's body was cold as death!
The bats were almost upon them. He could see the reds of their eyes as they screeched excitedly at the sight of new prey. The sound was so loud that they might as well have been next to him. He didn't have much time. Using the last bit of energy he had left, he grabbed hold of his partner, gently bringing him closer until he was shivering against his chest. The baby digimon's weak struggles only lasted a moment before he went still.
A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he tightened his hold on his partner. Were it not for Demidevimon, he probably would've spent the rest of his life in that ruined pyramid, grieving himself to death. He'd been scared of the outside world, but Demidevimon showed him that it wasn't bad if you played your cards right. Demidevimon had always stuck by him when no one else would.
Now he would do the same.
And now that I have him….
Not a second later did their punishment arrive, eager to begin their feast. He grit his teeth as the little monsters began to dig in, tearing away at his clothing to get to the delicacy hidden underneath. Knowing what was coming, he brought his knees up and shifted into a kind of floating fetal position. Some of the bats began to bite at his forearm in an attempt to get to Pagumon, but he only tightened his hold, shielding him as best he could.
Only a few seconds passed and already the back of his shirt was in tatters, leaving nothing between the bats and their meal. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as the first pair of fangs pierced his flesh with many more soon following. Even as the swarm of teeth and claws tore through his back like a hot knife through tofu, he refused to scream, for his voice could not reach a volume high enough to express this level of pain. Instead he looked down at his partner, who looked back at him with eyes full of terror and concern, and smiled as comfortingly as he could manage, trying to let him know that everything was going to be okay, that they would make it out of this by the skin of their teeth, just like they always did.
But what his smile hid away, his eyes revealed clear as day. Ice cold tears fell from his eyes and landed on Pagumon's head, drawing a sob from his partner.
It was not going to be okay. They would not make it out of this. They were going to die here, devoured by bats inside the belly of the monster they served loyally. They had let their greed and foolishness cloud their judgement and now it would cost them everything they ever had and ever wanted.
But that was okay. Resting his forehead against his partner's, he kept smiling, even as he felt his blood run down his back. If it was like this, with his best friend safe in his arms, then he didn't mind dying. As long as they could stay like this….
….I'm never letting him again.
"So...you're going to be my…. partner?" The boy asked, shifting uncomfortably in his spot in the sand in an effort to shake free a few of the grains in his trousers.
"That's what Etemon says and I wouldn't question his decisions. He hates that," answered the little blue blob seated across him.
"Yeah, he sure is scary when he's mad." He shuddered at the memory of the concert that started all this.
"Tell me about it. I'm Pagumon by the way. What's your name?"
"My name….?" He tilted his head to the side, as if just now remembering that he had a name.
"Don't you remember your own name? What are ya', brain dead?"
His face flushed bright with embarrassment. "I-I remember it. It's just….I haven't really said it in a long time."
"Well can yea say it now? It's been like, five thousand words now and I still don't know what it is."
"Never mind. Just say your name already!"
"Alright alright, geez. My name is…."
̛͏T̸Ḩis͠ ̴E̕͟҉R̀͢RǪ̷͢R͟͏͜…͘͢.̨̛͘Ha̶VE҉̀͡ ҉̧̡Ņó̸͜ N̨͟͜Á̷͘m҉e.̧.̛͝.͝͏̨.̶͘B̡̀U̧T́ ̧̢̛i͞T ͘҉̀c͏Àl̵̕͠ļ̢͜Èd͟͢͞….͘
And there it is, polished and cleaned but could probably still be better. I loved Demidevimon as a kid (still do). Ever since I picked him as my starter digimon in digimon world 2 I knew he was the perfect digimon for me. The Demidevimon from Adventure in particular always had my sympathy and I legit cried when VenomMyotismon ate him (I was like, five, okay). It's a tragedy that there aren't a lot of stories about him. IMPORTANT: There are two ways this story could continue. It could either start off immediately after the Myotismon arc or I could skip all that and go straight to Tri. It entirely depends on the feedback I get for this story. I'd also like to point out that this story didn't just come to me while I was eating a sandwich like my other stories. This one was inspired by a few other fanfictions, most of them about Demidevimon. And here they are: Conversion of Loyalties by Cho-Ran Hope for the Hopeless by ngrey651 The Whispering Little Devil by Looneygamemaster Return by CorinnetheAnime I'd like to thank and congratulate these authors for making such awesome stories. Credit where credit is due and all that. So please, click on that review button and tell me what you think!
I loved Demidevimon as a kid (still do). Ever since I picked him as my starter digimon in digimon world 2 I knew he was the perfect digimon for me. The Demidevimon from Adventure in particular always had my sympathy and I legit cried when VenomMyotismon ate him (I was like, five, okay). It's a tragedy that there aren't a lot of stories about him.
IMPORTANT: There are two ways this story could continue. It could either start off immediately after the Myotismon arc or I could skip all that and go straight to Tri. It entirely depends on the feedback I get for this story.
I'd also like to point out that this story didn't just come to me while I was eating a sandwich like my other stories. This one was inspired by a few other fanfictions, most of them about Demidevimon.
And here they are:
Conversion of Loyalties by Cho-Ran
Hope for the Hopeless by ngrey651
The Whispering Little Devil by Looneygamemaster
Return by CorinnetheAnime
I'd like to thank and congratulate these authors for making such awesome stories. Credit where credit is due and all that.
So please, click on that review button and tell me what you think!