Digimon Inheritance: A Heroic Lion's Turbulent Times (Finished)

SparringX3: 44.25 Str, 36.75 Fort, 40.5 End, 33 Agi.
Void-Step TrainingX1: 13.5 Endurance, 18 Spirit
Tiger BloodX2: 18 Str, 20 Spirit, 24 Agi
Magic Training: 25 Special, 18 Spirit

Strength: 18,823.75->18,886
Fortitude: 15,600->15,640.5
Endurance: 15,540.5->15,594
Agility: 13,023->13,080
Special: 13,225->13,250
Spirit: 11,629->11,685

Slide Evolution (Vertical) : 24/??? ->25/???
Void-Step: 73.5/???->75/???
General Fighting: 291/540->295.5/540
Martial Arts, GrappLeomon *Maul* Style: 230/540 ->234.5/540

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[] Spend it in meditation. You'll need to be calm and collected for the battle ahead. It'll let you enter the fight with full stamina and spirit.



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You slowly take in a breath of air, letting the deep stream stretch your chest over several seconds as the first half of a steady rhythm. A moment later your muscles contract, expelling it outwards in a steady flow.

In and out, in and out, the pattern repeats itself time and time again, the sole focus of your mind. Playing in tandem with this, your body gradually begins to relax, starting first at the extremities and moving inwards, releasing the tension of your muscles.

Time passes by in an inconsequential manner, seconds, minutes, hours, none of it has meaning.

A void of utter nothingness beckons, its sultry voice promising peace and relief if you just surrender to its tender mercies.

However you pull back from the still pool of comforting darkness. That is not why you've come.

In and out.

Instead your will marshalls itself on the task to come. This day will see you perish, or bring your oaths to fulfillment.

There will be no room for hesitation, your strikes will be true.

In and out.

There will be no room for mental weakness. Your emotions will flow strong, but controlled.

In and out.

Trepidation is curtailed, doubt is washed away.

My Mind Is Clear.

Wrath is bound, its overwhelming fires saved to fuel justice

My Heart Is Calm.

All that remains is purpose. To save your family, to avenge your home.

My Fists Are Heavy.

===Authors Note: This is a little teaser. Hehe, don't worry. I'll be posting a full update tonight!

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It's with pure calm that you listen to the Mayor's battle-plan. Each of your purposes for the coming battle is made clear, and you trust each of the others to follow through... which is admittedly because your master has sketched a visual representation of what to do in the ashy ground. Even rookies would be able follow his crisp diagram to the letter.

Groundramon gives your mutual teacher a respectful bow, then stomps off, looking for a good place to start digging. Shortly thereafter his power begins to fade, before finally vanishing from your senses.

Sparks gives a low chuckle and tosses his book into the air. A moment later, and both have vanished into thin air.

You slowly rise up, finally letting a shred of tenseness back in. Staying wholly relaxed will be detrimental when it comes time to fight.

It's only a matter of time before Count and his honor guard stop at the Gloaming supply base, tired and weary from days of traveling. And when they seek to rest…

That is when you'll strike.

=

Sparks pops back into existence several feet in front of your group, a wicked grin over his face.

"Hehehe, those bastards took the bait!" *MayorTyrannomon* nods in affirmation, and shuffles closer to the cluster of gathered Ultimates.

"Roho! Perfect! Now bring us-"

*Whoosh*

The world shimmers suddenly, blurring between moments as the Wisemon's power takes hold. In the space between breaths, your various forms warp across reality, teleporting from an ash-hewn ring, into the sky hundreds of kilometers away.

"-to the fight!" The MasterTyrannomon finishes just before starting to fall. You turn away as he and the others catch themselves, having already anchored yourself the very moment Sparks' teleportation ended.

No, your eye is only for the enemy base below and the battle going on within its walls.

A stark-white keep of bones lays in shambles, its massive form broken and crushed by the rampaging form of Groundramon. The stocky dramon lays about in *mindless* fury, roaring much as a feral might as it crushes a crowd of panicked Vilemon beneath one claw. Dozens of champions surround him, the Gloaming's staple chafe yes, but also a full score of more potent champions such as Witchmon and Boogiemon. You even spot a mixture of Growlmon and BlackVeedramon, clearly hailing from the Hazard Coast.

Not that their power as champions really matters here.

Dark bolts, hazardous fire and even the long blades of a Matadormon bounce harmlessly off his thick scales, while a nine-headed snake digimon struggles to keep his tail restrained. For all intents and purposes, your fellow student looks unstoppable.

"Tear Arrow!"

That is until a long, sparkling icicle plunges through the thick armor and stabs into his shoulder. Groundramon flinches from the sudden pain, his faux roar of anger warping into a very real cry. In that moment of weakness your brother strikes, bowling his massive half-metal frame into your ally's wounded side and knocking his tremendous body over. The outer wall of long femurs and ribs crumbles under his weight, showering the air with white powder.

Your sister, blurs to the WarGrowlmon's side within the space of a millisecond and raises her weapon to the Ultimate's head, ready to deliver the coupe de grace. You rush down towards them in an attempt you know to be futile.

Only, instead of driving a second arrow through his skull, the Crescemon nudges her weapon away at the last moment, leaving it to instead burrow into his chest. A painful, but distinctly and intently non-lethal wound. The sudden mercy brings several conflicting emotions to your mind, relief that Groundramon has been spared, surprise over her actually sparing him and more than anything hope.

She must have realized his purpose here…

Luna turns alongside Thresh to your look at your descending party. While your brother's eyes flash with glee, hers look… pleased? Her look brings many questions to your mind, but they're cast aside.

There's no room for that, not now.

Your fellow students (and MarineDevimon) descend upon the gathered champions in a flurry of fire, lasers and dark lightning, tearing up vast swathes of fortress ground under their apocalyptic firepower. Mon after mon are utterly incinerated and cut apart in the opening barrage in a display you'd have normally found horrifying.

But there's no room for that either.

"Hell Masquerade!" Beat flashes through the air towards Crescemon in sudden blur of green and black-

*Clang*

-but is stopped cold as your sister simply blocks his hastened thrust with her moon-emblazoned shield. You don't allow the display to fully register, it would only be a distraction.

Thresh locks eyes with your, his cybernetic claws shaking with excitement. You search for any hint of recognition within those yellow orbs, but there's nothing. He sees your presence here as a simple worthy opponent, nothing more.

But that's fine. Your purpose in this battle is to bring him down. If your brother chooses to focus on you at the start… it only makes your task easier.

"Ah, ah, ah ah!" Despite your intense focus, a familiar laugh whips your head around to the main base's rubble, where a well-dressed humanoid digimon is laughing to himself.

Count.

"What is this? An ambush? No, I think suici-"

"Master Fire!" The Vamdemon's monologue is cut off in its infancy by your sensei's roar. A veritable pillar of raging flames crashes into the vampiric digimon, carrying him free from his perch and through the opposite wall of bone. *MayorTyrannomon* bounds after the stream of fire, his claws glowing white with palpable power.

Your master will, as discussed, be taking the *first shot* at that despicable monster.

Moments after landing, a miraculously surviving Growlmon leaps towards your back, his energy clear and moving oh-so-slow. Once you might have felt pity for him, but now there is only the task ahead.

Just before contact you step aside, letting his claw and glowing armblade fly harmlessly past, then a simple sweep with your leg is enough to turn his leap into a tumble.

Thresh doesn't bother moving out of the much smaller champion's path either, he simply lets the eighteen foot demon-dragon bounce of his metal chest, not so much as moving him a single millimeter.

His aura is still wild, a tumultuous red mess of eager violence tinged with the hazard's corrosive strength. The only difference now being its sheer volume, surging out in a constant hungry blaze. Wisps of the hungry inferno reach out towards you, but are mercilessly repelled by a solid wall of purple. Your aura, a dense matt of unmoving purpose, will and power clashes with his own, filling the air with sharp cracks of manifested energy.

"You seem pretty strong." The mon you call brother says, his mechanical mouth open wide in an excited leer. "I guess you'll do while sis and Lord Count clean up the rest."

There are many things you want to say in response. Does he remember you? Has Count's sway over him become all encompassing? Does he want to leave that villain's service?

But all of those and more are dismissed.

No, the only words you need to pass on, will be spoken with your fists.

"Verge… want my help with this one?" Sparks' uncertain voice cuts through the tension. Thresh flinches as if struck, followed by his pupils narrowing into angry slits.

You:

=== Choose One:

[] Decline: You'll fight your brother alone, Sparks can be of more use elsewhere.

[] Accept: The sooner Thresh is defeated and bound the better.

===Authors Note: It begins!