Series Title: Division of Destiny||Story Title: Reign of the Undead King
Characters: Piemon, Vamdemon, Chosen Children, others||Pairings: Ken x Daisuke/Daisuke x Ken, Mimi x Sora/Sora x Mimi
Chapters: 1-40||Words: 2,662||Total: 2,662
Genre: Romance, Drama||Rated: PG-13
Challenge: Random AU!Competition: AU #3, divergent!AU
Summary: Vamdemon and Piemon rule supreme. Only now, ten years after their victory, are things about to change. For good or for ill.

Silence and shadows hung thick over the forest. Those few nocturnal creatures that moved did so at their own peril. Most had taken care of their business before the night grew too deep.

Not that night ever ended in this shattered world. But there were periods where the darkness thinned a little, enough so that people could see one another without the use of flashlights or torches.

There were children born now who had never known the touch of the sun, and some who didn't remember it at all.

The adults remembered. Most tried not to think about, faced with the grim reality that the sun might never shine again. He didn't want it to, and he had had matters his way for ten years now.

Everything that happened in this world and the other happened because of him. Of them. The two unquestioned, unchallenged rulers of two worlds.

Once there had been those who fought them. Stories still gusted and whispered about them, murmured only where it was felt no one could hear them. That wasn't always true. But those who fought had failed and worlds suffered for it.

Footsteps scurried along through piles of fallen leaves. A soft voice gasped in a vain attempt to catch his breath.

Where…where is he? Where are they? Large eyes turned this way and that in a vain attempt to find answers. No one saw them until and unless they wanted it to happen. Especially when the person who looked was the target of the hunt.

He leaned against a tree, fingers clutching the bark for support, breathing hard. He wished he didn't have to. It would draw them to him. He didn't think he had a chance to escape anyway, but he wanted to pretend, if only for a few more moments.

No one escaped them when they hunted. They always brought their prey to ground.

Was that a movement? He stared at where he thought he'd seen it, drawing in deep breaths, not caring how loud they were so long as he had air in his lungs. He needed that to run.

In the beginning, he'd tried to have some kind of a plan. If he could just avoid them for long enough, he could get away. He would be safe.

He should've known better. No one was safe in this world anymore.

Silver-white mist ghosted up, and his heart plummeted, his mouth drying up. No. No, this couldn't be, he'd barely had time to do anything, why did they have to find him now?

He broke. Legs pumping, hands yanking cobwebs and tree branches and leaves out of his way as he surged to one side, away from the creeping hands of fog that bespoke his arrival.

The prey didn't care about finding a way out to whatever vague, hinted at sanctuary might exist beyond their borders. All he cared about now was surviving another few moments.

He ran. He didn't think; thinking was for people, not for prey. He remembered his words now, clear and sharp as a knife in his heart.

Run as long as you like. Run as fast as you may. Run as far as you wish. But in the end, you will fall.

He hadn't wanted to believe it. He knew this had happened before, multiple times over the last decade. Rumor had it that the leader of those who'd once fought against the Undead King had been the first. He'd never put any real stock in those rumors, but now the idea thrummed hard behind his eyes.

If Yagami Taichi fell before the master of the world, then what chance did he have?

Fog swirled before him and he jerked himself out of the way of it. If he could stay out of the fog, then perhaps he would be safe. Perhaps…

He thudded directly against a powerful man-shaped thing and didn't care that he whimpered in terror. Blue eyes looked down at him, pale thin lips curved upward into a mockery of a smile.

"The hunt is over."

Other figures came from the fog; the rest of the Undead King's pack, he knew. They could do nothing to him, however. Lord Vamdemon brought him to bay; therefore, by the laws of the hunt as he'd heard them before he was released, he belonged to the overlord.

"You always win, Vamdemon-sama." There was the faintest hint of a pout in the words as the vampire king gathered his prey up in one hand and bent his head to the side.

He didn't want to hear any more of this. He wanted all of it to end. His chest ached; his legs throbbed from how fast he'd run. He'd lived for years knowing that he could die at a vampire's teeth. Now that it was about to happen, he wanted it to end.

The bite, when it came, was quick. If one good thing could be said about the Undead King, it was that he dealt with his meals quickly once he brought them to ground. The torment always came before that. Once caught, he finished it all in moments.

Tonight's prey was no different.

Vamdemon licked his lips clean of the last traces of blood. This one wasn't as well-fed as some meals he'd enjoyed in the past, but that wasn't unexpected. Humans weren't as well off as they'd been ten years ago, at least not the ones that he had access to.

He dropped the carcass to the ground and gestured toward DeviDramon. "Get rid of that. He's not worth bringing back."

"Yes, sir!" DeviDramon, who had once been his most loyal servant PicoDevimon, dragged the body away. Vamdemon never asked what became of those whom he chose not to raise again. He didn't really care to know.

Instead, he looked toward the rest of his pack. There weren't many of them, only about half a dozen. He was quite selective about those who followed him. His alliance with Piemon gave him access to the finest of options, as well. He could afford being choosy.

"Have you fed tonight?" Though his pack always ran with him when he hunted, most knew well enough they stood no chance of bringing down the prey, and took care of their needs beforehand.

"Yes." The one who'd spoken before of his victory nodded quickly. "I did, at least."

His gaze fell on the others, most of who agreed they'd fed. Only one shrugged, and he wasn't surprised at whom it was.

"I thought I had a chance." The brunet hadn't changed very much in the last decade. His loyalty to his master was unquestionable, of course, but his attitude remained much the same.

"Then go." Vamdemon didn't wait around to see him leave, but lifted into the air, followed by the rest of the pack. The night was young still and he had free time ahead of him. He didn't bother with the petty details of ruling; that was what people more suited to it were for.

So, he indicated for the pack to return to the mansion and occupy themselves in some useful fashion, while he set his course for the gateway. Few beings other than himself or Piemon dared to cross through this without permission. The guards on it never gave him so much as a look. The Undead King, the one who ruled this world without question, could do as he pleased.

Nor did the guards on the other side look at him in anything but devout fear and abject worship. He paid them no mind, turning his steps to where he knew Piemon would be.

The clown Digimon stood watching two of his servants sparring back and forth. Beside him stood his favorite minion, masked and silent as always. Vamdemon thought at times he couldn't even remember what the boy had once looked like. Not that it mattered anymore.

"And how has your night been?" Piemon didn't look up as Vamdemon came to stand beside him.

"Not as interesting as some." Vamdemon admitted, watching as the servants fought with tooth, claw, and special attacks. Whoever came out on top would be considered for a promotion. Whoever failed would return to being an egg.

Rising in Piemon's ranks required an ability and a willingness to kill that grew more and more common with each passing day in his dominion. Perhaps that was why his chief enforcers were those who'd once stood against him. They knew how to kill to survive.

Piemon watched the two battling it out, a thoughtful tilt to his head. "You had a hunt tonight, didn't you?"

Vamdemon only shrugged; he hadn't come to discuss dinner. "Have you found any trace of Gennai yet?"

For ten years the old man had hidden from them. There were others who hadn't been seen in that time as well, though if they had joined him or if they'd fallen victim to the Chosen or the Dark Masters as they'd extended Piemon's grip on the Digital World no one knew. Getting answers out of the Chosen wasn't always easy, even for their masters.

"Nothing as of yet. But Koushirou is tracing down some interesting leads, or so he told me." Piemon's lips twitched a fraction. "He and MugenDramon work well together."

"So I've noticed." Vamdemon spared a small glance for the silent blond next to Piemon. "Is there anything else that we need to take care of?"

"Not at the moment." Piemon leaned forward as one of the sparring warriors below sliced through the armor of the other, who fell back, dark ichor spewing from the wound. "I think this is it." Vamdemon watched as well; he always enjoyed a good show, and Piemon put on some of the best. The loser raked one last time toward the victor, who kicked her opponent away with a scornful glare. In moments, she was the only one who stood in the battle arena.

"Well done, Enshoumon." Piemon spoke, his voice carrying easily out there. The warrior Digimon bent her head toward him, features impassive and cold, despite the fiery attacks Vamdemon had seen her using in battle before her final strike. "Return to quarters, you'll be contacted about your promotion in due course."

Vamdemon dismissed the whole battle from his mind as Piemon turned his full attention toward his ally. "We've nearly done it."

"We have done it." Piemon waved one hand carelessly. "Whatever idiocy Gennai dreams up is nothing that we can't deal with. He could call a thousand new Chosen and we would destroy them all as easily as the first."

Vamdemon's lips thinned into a smile. "I do wish he'd try. I haven't fed from someone who could do more than run in too long." The first few years had held glorious hunts, humans who knew how to fight and clung to life desperately in order to keep it. One by one they'd all fallen. A tragedy, if only for the lack of decent meals it gave him.

"I'm certain he will. I've heard rumors." Piemon gestured for him to walk along and the two headed toward the innermost parts of the citadel. "He's been attempting to contact humans through the portal."

"I haven't heard anything about that." So far as he knew, even Gennai would have to approach the portal to communicate across the void of worlds. None of his guards had so much as mentioned anything of the sort.

Piemon's eyes hardened. "He has something in mind, but I can't get the details yet. My spies haven't wormed their way in enough."

"I'll keep a watch out." He had human servants who were skilled in such matters; it was time to put them to use. What good was ruling an entire world if one couldn't use it from time to time?

He sailed through the dark skies, casting about for anyone that might satisfy his gnawing hunger. He supposed the others were right; he should've fed before the hunt. In the last decade, so few had beaten Vamdemon-sama to the prey in a hunt that it only made sense to do so.

Still, he'd hoped. He'd tried. If the human had turned to the left instead of the right, it would've worked out in his favor.

Well, it hadn't, and he needed to feed. Those were Vamdemon-sama's rules: they all had to feed at least once a day, to avoid the hunger overcoming them. He'd seen it happen once before and it wasn't something he wanted to see again.

So, he coasted along, running his fingers absently through thick clouds, and watching for anyone who might be a good enough meal. Or as good as they were likely to get these days. Humans just didn't have anything good on their bones.

Far below, something moved. He hovered where he was, watching curiously. There weren't really supposed to be any free-range humans in this area, so why…

He moved, guided more by an instinct than by having actually seen anything. Something small and sharp flew by, and he reached out one hand to snag it from the air.

An arrow? A wooden arrow, at that, so clearly not an average hunter. He smiled, fangs glimmering. So someone thought they could play vampire hunter, did they?

He might not have beaten his master to the first prey, but perhaps this prey would be even more rewarding. He hadn't seen someone trying to hunt them in at least seven or eight years. The way he and Vamdemon-sama had torn through the first batch who thought they could end the Undead King's rule had proven how stupid that was.

Swift as he could move, he darted downward, looking for whoever had dared to fire at him. The arrow itself was too new to have a scent on it, but the archer would be there somewhere. Large brown eyes, adapted for nearly a decade to see through the shadows, searched, while his hands scrambled through trees and bushes. He didn't fear a forest; wood needed to penetrate his entire body to have any real effect on him. He would never forget the idiot who thought by luring him into a thicket that he would be weakened or defenseless.

That idiot had made a fine meal at that.

There! His eyes brightened for a moment and he shot closer, silent as a leaf upon the wind. The would-be vampire hunter bit off a few words under his breath and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The vampire didn't know where he was going, but he doubted the other would make it. How could he, with Vamdemon-sama's most skilled hunter on his trail?

Yet the other did seem to know a little more than the vampire thought he would, racing through the trees at a speed few humans could match. He'd clearly put some time in learning how to run away from vampires. A good trick; the pack were the only vampires in this world.

But he couldn't run forever; a clearing up ahead would give the vampire a good chance to grab onto him and then it would be all over but the feeding.

He swooshed ahead, coming down to rest on the far side of the clearing, wanting his prey to at least think that he was safe. It would make it all the more enjoyable once he knew that he wasn't.

He waited…and waited…and waited.

And there was no sign of the hunter. The vampire frowned; he hadn't heard the other running since he'd sped ahead, but he hadn't expected to. Was he somewhere else? Had he turned around and gone the other way?

Thin lips moved into a smile. A prey who knew how to think? To plan? This looked like it could be more interesting than he'd first thought.

Yagami Taichi licked his lips. This would be the best meal he'd had in years. All he had to do was find it.

To Be Continued