Chapter III: Call It Courage

"The sacrifice which causes sorrow to the doer of the sacrifice is no sacrifice. Real sacrifice lightens the mind of the doer and gives him a sense of peace and joy."

- Mahatma Gandhi

"Will somebody please explain to me what the hell just happened!?" Daisuke's voice hit a surprisingly high pitch, too high for comfort within the tight confines of Yamato's small, black Toyota Corolla. Yamato winced; Daisuke was sitting forward in the back seat, directly behind the driver's seat, mouth only inches from the older boy's ear. It was the third time he'd repeated the question since Taichi's sudden departure, and Yamato's already troubled mind had had enough.

"Daisuke! Shut up and sit back! No one can answer your stupid question because no one knows the answer! Now just, shut up and let me think or so help me, I will choke the living daylights out of you!" That being said, Yamato sat back in his seat and inserted the key into the ignition. The car roared to life, a slight vibration rattled through the steering wheel around which his left hand was clasped tensely.

In the rearview mirror, he could see Hikari and Takeru's faces, both as tight and pale as his own had become. There were soft tears glistening in the corners of her auburn eyes. Hikari was crying, though so softly no one but Takeru could tell. What they had feared, and somehow felt was coming had indeed occurred. Yamato understood them now, couldn't even try to doubt the seriousness of the situation. "What the hell did just happen?" His mind voiced the same question that he'd just smashed Daisuke for asking. But still, even if the question couldn't be answered for now…

As he put the car into reverse and screeched out of the parking garage, he glanced to Sora beside him in the front passenger seat. She was pale, like everyone else… but maybe even more so. She hadn't spoken since the apartment, just hurried along with the others with a stricken expression plastered across her pretty features. She looked like the world was ending about her.

Yamato slumped into the soft upholstery of the drivers seat and unconsciously lightened the pressure on the accelerator. This wasn't right; they shouldn't be reacting this way. It was time to act, not sit here letting the situation spiral out of control. Someone had to take charge and start rallying the others if they were to have a chance at solving this bizarre crisis. Everyone had to have their heads on straight. Usually this would be Taichi, but since all the trouble centered on their absent leader, it was up to Yamato.

"Alright guys," He craned his neck around to see the others. The three destined in the back seat responded to his words, were giving him their full attention. It was harder to tell with Sora, but he continued. "I need you to start calling the others. Tell them its urgent, cancel anything else. Tell them what they need to know, but make it as quick as you can. Takeru, you call Koushiro, have him contact Gennai first and see if anything is wrong with the Digital World. That might give us a clue as to what's going on. Hikari, call Joe, we'll probably need him once we find Taichi. Daisuke, you call Cody. Sora… Sora!"

He couldn't tell if she was listening. Her head was turned aside, bright auburn hair shielding her face from his eyes. She wasn't responding to his words. Gently he reached out and grasped her shoulder. "Hey, Sora, talk to me. I need you to listen. We all have to be here for this. What is it?"

He felt her trembling. "Sora?"

Before he could say anything else, a cell phone went off in the car. Hikari dove into her white handbag and retrieved her phone. "Hello?… Miyoko? Miyoko, I'm glad you called! We've got an emergency, Taichi just… What? You saw him?…"

The others were listening with bated breath, only one side of the conversation comprehensible. Daisuke looked to be on the point of snatching the phone in impatience. "Where?…" A much longer pause. When Hikari spoke again, her voice sounded small and frightened, much more so than previously. "Was he sure?… Alright, I'll tell the others and we'll be there soon, stay in touch."

She hung up the phone. Yamato did his best to stay on the road and still look the younger Yagami in the eye through the rearview mirror. Everyone was silent, waiting for Hikari to fill them in. "Ken and Miyoko saw Taichi uptown. Ken's following him, their heading towards the park."

Yamato began to smile. Finally, things were coming together. But the smile was short-lived. "Ken said that a gate opened somewhere near the park. He could feel the Dark Ocean through it. He thinks that's where Taichi is heading."

The silence in the car was unbearable. No one seemed capable of movement. Hikari's words had stolen the ability to move from everyone. "The Dark Ocean…"

Yamato jerked himself forward in his seat and punched the accelerator with his foot grimly. At least they knew where to go now… "Start making the phone calls!" They were still frozen. Yamato felt anger pulling at the corners of his mind. This wasn't like them; they were Destined for crying out loud! "Now guys! Make the damn calls now!"

They complied… Takeru, Hikari, Daisuke… Sora?

Sora still hadn't moved. For a second time since entering the car he reached for his girlfriend's shoulder and gave her a shake, this time less gently. When she finally turned her face to him the quiet desperation in her eyes nearly floored him. It was echoed clearly in her voice. "Yamato, I'm scared. I can't lose him! We can't lose him! We need him far too much for him to leave us! I…" Her eyes were so distraught. It would have broken Yamato's heart to see his usually so strong girlfriend in such a state. But for now the situation was too critical for him to completely understand the depth of feeling in her words.

"Sora, we're not going to lose him! We're going to find him and bring him back. Then we're going to figure out what's going on! You sound like he's already lost, but he's not! He needs us to be there for him right now!"

"Or maybe she's right, maybe it's us who need him?"

It was ridiculous. He had begun to think as if he really thought that they could lose their best friend. Something was wrong, yes, but Taichi was still here, well, out there at least. They would find him, find him and fix whatever had gone wrong. Yamato was sure of it. They would get to the bottom of this strange change in their leader.

Except… when he looked into Sora's eyes, that feeling of surety seemed to fade away.

It was all so frustrating. A van in the opposite lane wailed on its horn at the black Corolla, calling Yamato's attention once more back to the road. In the back seats, he could hear quick, terse conversations starting. But still not in the front seat. "Sora!?"

Her voice sent chills down his spine. "Yamato, we can't lose him!"

Scout 3rd Class Marin Keal despondently peered into the gloom of Thorsedon's eternally shadowed streets and longed for a warm, cheery fire and a hot drink. He felt chilled, chilled and depressed by three long, tense weeks in the dark, stalking and being stalked by Eastern soldiers amid the ruins on this sun-forsaken island. And, gates of wrath, his time here had only begun! The usual term of service on the island front lasted a full six months. He might as well have been sentenced for life.

Marin shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position for his back against a rough chunk of masonry as he clutched his short sword tighter. No sign of any Easterners. The streets were empty, as far as he could see, as was the decrepit city's central courtyard. That was as expected. What really caused him anxiety were the massive, ruinous buildings that overshadowed the open passageways. Who could tell in this place of shadows whether the myriad of gaping apertures and windows concealed the blunt, ugly frame of an enemy crossbow….

Thoughts of that nature made his palms sweaty. It wasn't as though he was a stranger to war and sudden, violent death. He'd fought with the Lightfoot Company, one of the Western Army's finest, at the 7th battle for Red Glacier, when the Easterners had thrown a whole battalion against the north pass of the Cinder Mountains. That fight had been no simple skirmish, unlike the majority of the border fights during the long years since the war had started. Red Glacier had lived up to its name singularly well that day.

Marin had been proud of his part in that battle, and of course spent endless hours bragging throughout the taverns of Whitespire with his companions. He had every right to boast; he'd played a man's part, killed four Eastern soldiers and survived without a scratch. And it was gratifying to see the townspeople hanging on to his every word…

…But there had always been one or two men, grizzled veterans of a war that had lasted over fifteen years, who held more experience than Marin and his friends could have appreciated. They'd kept their seats at the back of the bar, listening silently without being impressed, nursing their ale or smoking long, black pipes. And always that one word, one name would escape their lips when the youngsters' stories had been told.

Thorsedon.

Then they would smile, a particular smile only possessed by those who'd been to the island city. It's very grimness spoke volumes that no man could ever articulate with words. The everlasting night fighting in Thorsedon was matched by no other battlefield. And though they'd pretend to the contrary, even the densest of Marin's friends would feel the hairs rise on their necks.

"Knock it off, Marin."

He mentally kicked himself for having let his mind wander. Three weeks in the dark had taught him one thing at least- a distracted mind meant one less scout would emerge from the ruins when the squad left this hellhole. Marin had already seen it happen twice. The more recent of the two deaths had occurred the day… or night before last. His name had been Ralf, also Scout 3rd Class, a native of the city Rift, and a decent soldier as far as Marin had seen.

Ralf and Marin had hit it off well on board the boat that had ferried the scouts across the inland sea. Both young men had seen action before, and spent the trip retelling stories of high honor… and discussing Scout 2nd Class Anna Hall, the only female member of an otherwise all male squad, and a beauty at that, in hushed but still ribald terms. Her rank was also higher than either of the two young men…

They'd stuck close after that, both suddenly realizing upon disembarking that their combined experience meant less than nothing in this kind of battlefield. Maybe they would have become fast friends if they had been together longer. But Ralf had been downed by the iron shaft of an Easterner's crossbow bolt while walking point for the squad. They had been farther north, amid a clearing that had once been a terraced garden. Ralf's foot had skittered a piece of debris, an error unforgivable amid Thorsedon's slowly decaying stones.

It had never occurred to Marin that a crossbow, or any other projectile weapon would be effective in the dark, at least not at the ranges that were common here. Having been a Swordsman before, and a new Scout now, he'd never had much experience with marksmanship. Master Scout Baiden, the squads grim, quiet old man, enlightened him and the other first timers soon after Ralf's demise. Soldiers of the Dark, men from both sides who'd been within the city for long periods of time, relied more on sound and a vague second sight than physical eyesight. "You live long enough, you'll learn." Baiden never had looked like a man full of comforting words. But the Master Scout got his point across well to his anxious neophytes- there existed no safety within the Dark. Marin especially took Baiden's words to heart. He intended to be one of those survivors, adaptive, smart, lucky. Someday, he too would be a Soldier of the Dark.

But that was the future. For now, here he crouched, tired and cold and miserably afraid, standing guard outside the west side of a mostly collapsed building, the only accessible entrance at his back and the inky Darkness all about. Within the shaky doorframe and down a broad hall, an oddly intact staircase wound down to a basement, in which his squad-mates rested, shielded from enemy eyes and enemy weapons… and enjoying a warm, cheery fire and hot drinks.

"Curse words…"

Why had Baiden chosen him of all his people to stand guard tonight? The Darkness seemed especially oppressive, as if it sensed that men were within the building, attempting to ward off its influence with pitiably small tongues of fire. It pressed inward, softly but powerfully, hungry and malicious…

Or maybe the Dark felt more terrible in his mind, knowing that the light and warmth he so desperately desired resided such a short distance away…

Marin felt something nearly imperceptible, a change in his surroundings or an awareness that he was no longer alone. Nothing had caught his attention, no sounds or movement, nothing he could place his finger on, but still… Cautiously, almost painfully so, he turned his head to his right, straining his eyes to discern what had caught his attention. Still nothing.

By his ear, right from where he'd instinctively looked, a soft, gentle voice spoke in hushed tones. "That's good Scout, you caught on faster than I'd thought you would. Now relax, you don't want to draw any unfriendly attention."

Now that he'd heard her voice, the slim form of Scout 2nd Class Anna Hall seemed to materialize out of the shadows at his elbow. She had her scout's hood pulled back; he could just discern her short, dark hair shielding the rest of her girlish face from sight. Her own short sword lay draped across her lap, close to hand and half out of its sheath. She had been sitting right next to him.

"How long ?"

He could just imagine her grinning at him. "About five minutes. Don't worry, the fact that you even discovered me is good. Most of the other first-timers wouldn't have. We'll make a Darkie out of you for sure."

Marin remained silent, both pleased by her praise and the break in his solitude, and disturbed that she had arrived without his notice. Had she been an Easterner…

"Baiden sent me." After a moment she continued. "You concealed yourself well. It took me a while to find where you were, even though I knew you'd be out here."

He would have asked her just how she had found him, but having offered her final words of praise, Scout Hall ended any further conversation. "No more talking. We've done too much already." Then she faded from his sight like a wisp of mist.

She hadn't moved, he would have noticed had she done so. But she had withdrawn in some other way, blending into the ever-present night in a way he could not identify. It was funny, he thought to himself as he returned to his watch over the vacant streets and courtyard, that such a pretty, high-spirited girl could have such an affinity to the surrounding darkness. On the boat ride over, he would have sworn that she too had never before entered Thorsedon, regardless of her higher rank. But though no one had indicated to the contrary, her ability to blend with the dark and travel without being seen amid the city streets, and her quiet confidence in such tension-building surroundings, made Marin doubt his initial evaluation. She was too good to be a first timer. She too was a Soldier of the Dark.

Marin tilted his head slightly to the left, comfortable now to watch the south and leave the streets to the north to Anna's capable gaze. South meant the sunken courtyard and mausoleum beyond. Anyone coming from that direction would have to access the courtyard by the descending stone steps on either side of the mausoleum, a moment that would leave them exposed and vulnerable for several seconds. Plenty of time to stage a cold reception. For the first time in hours, Marin felt a semblance of control over his circumstances.

Time passed, but without any change in the surroundings Marin found it hard to gauge how long the two of them had been sitting silently. In the distance, the wall of some decrepit building collapsed, echoes of the descending crash reverberating across the streets. Still nothing changed in their immediate area. Marin had begun to wonder just how much longer the Scout Master would wait before sending others to take their place on watch.

Then something did change.

Gradually, so gradually that Marin nearly missed it altogether, the courtyard began to fill with mist. Grey and wraithlike, it rose from a now invisible point within the courtyard, filling the sunken ground like steam from a cauldron. His damp skin felt the cold touch of a breeze, the first movement of air that he could recall experiencing since entering Thorsedon. A slight tang plucked at Marin's nostrils, gathering in intensity as the mist grew denser.

"A sea breeze?"

Eyes locked on the fast disappearing courtyard, he broke the silence. "Anna? You want to look at this."

She already was. "I see it. This hasn't… I don't think this has happened before… Stay here, I'm going to get Badin."

Then she was gone, leaving Marin alone, watching the encroaching mist. She had only been gone for seconds when the air became charged with sudden and purposeful expression- malice and glee and a Dark Will. A city finally showing it's true face. All about the city, the shadows began to stir. They rose up in a thick vapor, black and inky, and began to intertwine themselves with the gray sea mist.

The Dark greeting the Dark.

Marin watched in rapt fascination. This was totally different, totally unexpected. The shadows were coming alive. Inanimate, ethereal, physically harmless shadows, suddenly rising up impossibly as if summoned by some evil wizard. He had never thought of the Darkness as something alive…

He rose unsteadily to his feet, legs rubbery and barely functioning as he groped blindly for his sword. This was beyond his capacity. He wasn't a Soldier of the Dark; he was barely a Scout, a novice in a battlefield he wasn't ready for. Why was he the one up here? It should be someone else, like Baiden, or Anna, or one of the other veterans, not him.

With a final pull, his sword came free, but his trembling hands wouldn't hold to the grip. With a dull clatter of metal on rock, it slipped from his clammy fingers and fell. Marin grasped for it like a drowning man grasps at a piece of driftwood. Gates of wrath, he needed to get away!

Forgetting the rest of the squad within the depths of the stone cellar, Marin bolted. Not up the road to the north; that was the area Ralf had died. He couldn't go there. To the south then. If he could reach the stairs, skirt around the side of the courtyard and the swirling Darkness and mist, he could get away. He needed to…

No longer careful to muffle the sounds of his movements, Marin leapt from the shattered masonry and down into the courtyard. The cracked flagstones thundered hollowly under his boots, like a brazen gong. The Easterners had used a gong like that at Red Glacier, to signal retreat, calling back their shattered forces, scuttling away like cowardly swine… The gong was sounding now for Marin.

Halfway across the courtyard, Marin's flying retreat came to its end.

To his left, at the center of the maelstrom of black and gray, Dark water exploded outward from a fountain, exposing an inky void through which the mist had risen. Now came an up-thrust of sea water that embraced the whole of the enormous courtyard, blinded Marin's vision and soaked his leather clothing. Choking on the salty brine that filled his throat, he fought to remain standing.

When the waters and his sight had cleared, Marin saw the newcomers to his world. The Dark Ocean's first emissaries had arrived.

Red eyes surveyed the courtyard, taking in the city of night, the crumbled and decrepit buildings and empty streets. Waist-high figures, ugly and blunt as wild mountain boars surrounded a hunched, compact figure of stone. Mounted high upon the central figure's broad shoulders, one on either side of the brutish head, stood small creatures, their forms hard to discern amid the shadows.

But the voice of the creature on the monster's right shoulder sounded clear and precise to Marin's ears when it spoke. "We're here…" The voice was feminine, soft and rich and melodic. A man could fall in love with that voice had it emanated from a pretty young woman or girl, and not a dark form seated upon a monstrosity. It held a promise of beauty far removed from the scene from hell at hand. "We have work to do. Tsukaimon," The other shoulder mounted creature stirred at the strange name, "You have your assignment from the master. Enjoy your games."

An eerie, playful laughter rang out from the creature called Tsukaimon, a child's laughter of delight and joy, but horribly tainted, mixed with some vibrancy that promised a cruelty of mind and spirit.

Tsukaimon rose from his perch on wing-like ears, a dark-shaded rodent creature, to all appearances cute and harmless. But the laughter… had been anything but cute and harmless. With a steady beat of wings, it hurdled into the shadows, a bat escaping from hell. Wherever it was going, hell would arrive with it.

"Now… Our turn." The female voice spoke again, her tone one of anticipation and promise. "Let us find the… 'friends….' who called on the Master. Right Goblimon?" The crowd of short creatures laughed, a hard, brittle laugh, like rocks tumbling down a slope. It was a sound as ugly and unappealing as their squat figures, a perfect match. The hulking, brutish figure remained silent, red eyes still gazing off into the city streets.

Marin could no longer cross the courtyard, not with those monstrosities so horrifyingly close. They were moving now, angling past where he stood in the shadow. The ground thundered under the heavy, rocky footfalls of the central hulk. The smaller creatures stepped about with a lighter clicking of claws on stone. The closest would pass perhaps twenty paces from him. Maybe he wouldn't be spotted; the shadows were so thick here along the fringe of the courtyard. Maybe…

"Wait!" Her voice, commanding, yet soft and velvety; Marin could see her red eyes peering toward his position within the shadows from atop her living perch. Light, musical laughter echoed about Marin's frozen form. "You can't hide from cat's eyes. Come here." Marin continued motionless, but the voice was persistent. "Don't be scared… at least not yet. You could be one of ours. And we wouldn't want to lose any time getting… acquainted, now would we? Let me see your face."

He was trembling violently now, the short sword clenched tight in his gloved hands. Maybe if he ran, maybe Anna would be back with Baiden and the others. Maybe… "Golemon! Closer! I want to see his face!" The Golemon stepped closer, the gloom and shadows receding before it. Heavy, powerful stone hands and arms, large stone legs, compact stone torso, and stone head, partially covered by metal plating. Now, dwarfed by its sheer size and mass, he could see it, and the owner of the beautiful voice as well. Peering down at him from the behemoth Golemon stood a black cat, paws sheathed in darkly colored gloves. Except for the voice, it could have been any cat, with human garb added by some playful child.

But there were no children in this city…

Her eyes were alight with an aggressive eagerness that broke through Marin's frozen state. He had to do something. But the best that came to mind was to pull his short sword from its sheath. Not that it would do much good.

Even before his hand had alighted on his sword's hilt, the cat had caught a glimpse of his face and her eyes lost their eagerness. She shook her head slowly, but with a finality that spoke volumes. "He's not of the Dark. It was others who called out to us." That beautiful voice sounded disappointed, even saddened. But her last words sounded different; they were detached and disinterested... and cold. "Free him from the city, Golemon…"

One of the many Goblimon was staring right at him, mouth wide in an ugly smile. It was leaning forward, anticipation and delight not even slightly disguised. The smirk on his ugly features made her meaning very clear. Only blood could make such a devilish creature so happy.

With a cry, he wrenched himself backwards, just in time to miss a massive swinging fist that shattered the rock wall beside which he previously stood. The smaller creatures crowded around, laughing and pointing as the Golemon raised its other fist high overhead. It had punched through a thick wall of massive stonework. The cold stone of the courtyard poked hard and unyielding against Marin's back, as hard and unyielding as the massive fist would be when it descended...

"Marin! Marin move! Get up!" Anna's voice, sounding as horrified as his own mind felt, echoed from the streets behind.

Arrows, sharp and accurate, sang out of the shadows and into the courtyard. The closest Goblimon's laugher broke off with a gurgle, leaving its comrades staring hollowly at a feathered shaft protruding from its wide-open mouth. A moment later, the slain monster disappeared in a cloud of particles. The remaining arrows found their mark against the Golemon, ricocheted with a bound off the giant's stone hide. The monster didn't even flinch; it was doubtful that it had even felt the multiple impacts.

Silence and stillness reigned together for a brief moment, but to Marin, they lasted forever. From his prone position he could see upwards toward the catlike creature upon the Golemon's shoulders. In the frozen impression of the moment he could read every aspect of her face. A sudden interest, almost a picture of mesmerization. She was staring hard, her gaze intense and riveted on the shadowy streets from which the arrows had emanated. Whatever she could see…

But that was all Marin could see, and the moment ended. With mind-numbing war-cries, the Goblimon leapt past Marin, waving about clubs of wood and metal and forming small balls of fire within their palms. Marin hadn't noticed the clubs before. How had he missed seeing them? And what had the cat been staring at? Could it have been….?

He would never know the answer. Marin's thoughts ended abruptly as the Golemon too leapt forward behind the Goblimon, its rocky foot bearing down on the young Scout of the West.

It was a truly odd phenomenon, one that would be remembered for years to come by those bystanders in the park who noticed. The wind whipped about savagely, clawing at anything which would yield to its strength- leaves, dust, various debris. Surprised park-goers clutched at their hats, or if their head were bare, attempted to return their hair to some semblance of order. One unlucky young man found himself too close to one of the madly fluttering swings, resulting in a knock-out blow to the chin… But the truly odd phenomenon was not the wind, but the lack of wind, at least in the one corner of the park nearest the sandboxes. A young woman, battling the sudden airflow with a tenacity that would have done credit to a bulldog, slipped past an invisible point and suddenly found her surrounding calm; mere feet away, her girlfriends barely kept to their feet amid the onslaught. People scurried about, gathering their chaotically rearranged possessions and retreated for cover. But several children playing about the pair of sandboxes continued to build meticulously planned castles, oblivious to the bedlam in their general vicinity.

It really was odd… at least for those who could not see the spiraling passage of fire about ten meters from the sandboxes, facing outward towards the rest of the park and the city beyond. This spectacle alone could explain both the ruthless wind and also its selective absence. But only one person was present whose eyes could see.

Taichi Yagami stood before the aperture in his world, his back as erect as a well-trained soldier, still and upright despite the pressure pouring from the gate. Like the portal he gazed into, his presence was unnoticed by the bystanders. The children about the sandboxes were too wrapped up in their project; the other park visitors too distracted by the gusts currently making their lives unbearably interesting.

Far in the distance of the gate, well beyond the fire, illumination faded away into an inky Darkness. The Darkness of the Dark Ocean… the Darkness of the city of ruins… It was there that he needed to go; through the gate, through the Dark. Not long ago, such an act would have appeared complete madness to the destined of Courage. But that was before. Now, there was little doubt that he would enter; he had already received the call, and responded to it. The faces of unknown companions beckoned him from beyond the fire, and he felt an overwhelming desire to go to them.

But standing here, on the threshold of departure, with everything familiar on one side and everything dreamed of on the other, his mind became clear as to the choice before him. To forgo all that he had built his life upon for the sake of some attachment and need, even so strongly felt… "I don't understand. Who are you, and why have you called me? Why do I need to follow you're call? Everything I know is here, my family, my friends, my partner, my responsibilities."

Though it might sound impossible, the spiraling flames before him appeared to slow their movement in response to his thoughts, as though the fire heard him and pondered his words. "I recognize your faces, I recognize your world, I recognize your need. But why me? I am a defender of this world, and the Digital World. If I leave, what will happen to my friends who I leave behind? You ask a great deal from me."

Taichi allowed his words to echo within his mind, waiting for some clarity to reach him, something that might help in this difficult situation. "Can't you at least answer one question? Why have I been called?"

Taichi let his head droop and his hands fall limply at his sides. If only he could understand… the choices would be so much he received no answer from those he called upon.

His answer came from the twisting fire of the Gate itself.

"They can not answer you now Courage. Events have called them to action. The long waiting has ended. If you chose to join them, you will find that it has already begun." A harsh, intense voice sounded throughout his mind, resonating about his consciousness without ever having utilized his ears. It spoke directly to him, a mental link from the fires of the Gate, sounding very much like fire itself; abrasive, hot and powerful. This impression was only emphasized by the pitch; it penetrated sharply like the sound of a raven or bird of prey. But despite the grating harshness of the voice, Taichi could vaguely pick up a surprising undertone to the words, one which sounded amazingly like affection and respect… and pity.

He hadn't been expecting a reply. The young man's words had been a way to voice his own inner turmoil and confusion, nothing more. Confronted by this sudden response, his previous powers of speech deserted him. But the voice seemed to sense this. "You don't understand what is happening, do you Courage? It has often been that way for you, and for your comrades, receiving summons without explanations, being thrust into situations you know nothing about. Such was your experience when you first entered our world in your childhood."

"No, I don't understand. I have a life here, friends and family who are dear to me. But… I think that I must go. But I want to understand. Why?"

The sadness and pity in the voice enveloped Taichi gently as it responded to his heartfelt plea for clarity. "Because you are Courage. You love the Light, and all who chose the Light over the Shadow. Through both destiny and personal choice, you have become its greatest champion, a protector, strong and good and noble. Does it not make sense that the Light would appeal first to you when its children fall under the Shadow? And is it any wonder that you respond to its plea, regardless of whether you understand the need or no?"

The slight spark of illumination began to burn within Taichi's mind. "I believe that the dreams are a summons. I believe that you 'know' the faces of your dreams because they are of the Light, and you intrinsically recognize this. Without your help, their light will be extinguished."

"They need me."

The voice remained silent. The fiery being whose power held the gate open, exposing the movement of Darkness, knew that no further words were needed, nor had he the right to speak them. It was his only to facilitate and enlighten; he had completed both tasks, and now could only watch the final choice of the young hero with sadness and pity.

Taichi remained lost in deep contemplation for an eternity of a moment. Faces flashed about his mind, friends, family, his partner… Sora… They flittered about his consciousness, conflicted with other faces, the faces from his summons. No words could convey the war fought about the recesses of the young man's mind.

"I am sorry, but your choice must be soon. My power holds this gate open, but it cannot be sustained for long. It is unstable as it is; an artificial breach between your world and the gate that the Darkness has opened. It will collapse once a being has passed through it… It will collapse even if nothing passes through it."

Taichi's bowed head came up slowly, a fire burning in his hazel eyes, replacing the faraway look that had previously reigned over his gaze. The voice's words had cut through the confusion in his mind. He was Light's defender. He had become so because of the choices he had made throughout his life, none of which he regretted. Now the Light called him to leave the people and places he loved. But had he any right to refuse? If he did, wouldn't he be refusing the very thing which made him who he was? His friends might need him. His departure might hurt them. They might not understand why. But even so, if he failed to respond to the call of the Light, wouldn't he be failing his friends too? They knew him as Courage; if he failed in his duty as Courage, then he would no longer be the young man who rightfully led them. He would no longer be a leader worth following…

…So be it, even if it cost him everything that he held dear. He would continue to be Courage. "I understand. I serve the Light. And I accept whatever must be done to safeguard it from the Darkness. Thank you." He spoke these words aloud, his voice carrying past the wind pouring out through the gate. The children playing in the calm of the sandbox glanced curiously in his direction; the tone of his voice far more intense and potent than any they had heard before. They saw only a young man gazing piercingly into an unseen distance, eyes alight with a glow none were experienced enough to understand.

If the voice had heard Taichi's final words it gave no sign, unless maybe that the fires of the Gate burned with a greater intensity. He stepped forward, raising his right arm as he did. It passed within the fire of the Gate without even the slightest burning sensation. Instead the fire felt warm, comforting. Before the eyes of the startled children in the sandbox, Taichi's arm disappeared from sight.

"Taichi Stop! Don't do it!" Someone was yelling to him, a different voice from the one before and far less controlled. It also seemed to be coming from a great distance, like the echoing voices of people trapped far underground. Or maybe Taichi was the one underground, and the voice reached him faintly from the distant surface. It held no force to his ears, its words failed to hold upon him.

"Wait! Don't do anything that you haven't thought through carefully yet!"

"But I have thought it through carefully."

"We need to wait for the others! The Darkness is up to something, and we'll need everyone's help! Koushiro and I can figure out what's going on! Then we can decide what to do about it! Taichi!"

"I already know what must be done."

"Taichi! Can you hear me?! Back away from the gate! Taichi!?"

Taichi never turned from the gate as he spoke. "It's alright Ken. I know what has to be done. Tell the others I'm sorry. And tell Agumon… tell him to wait for me. We'll fight alongside each other once again before this is over. Goodbye Ken."

"Taichi!"

The children in the sandbox stared in further shock and amazement as the young man with the glowing eyes and peaceful expression vanished after his missing arm.

Sorry this chapter is so late, and not as long as the others either. Life's been pretty crazy recently. Mea Culpa. But whatever, that's just the way it goes sometimes. It's up at least. A big thanks to everyone who reviewed the first two chapters, especially Frozen Twins. Major help from that cool dude. And once again, give me more reviews! It's not like I'm writing this for myself ya know. Next update is… forthcoming. Later.