Vocalia — Roleplayer Guild

Alphamon gazed at the fleeing Digimon, sighing softly as she watched them hightail it down the road. For a Royal Knight, petty criminals posed no challenge whatsoever. They just had the misfortune of trying to cause trouble while she was in town and, foolishly enough, attempted to gang up on a group of Rookies and In-Training who were just enjoying the day. She didn’t even have to call upon her trusted blade; a sight of her was enough to send the sane packing and the foolish up for the pickings. No matter how big or small, she felt it was her duty to stop evil where it stood. This was no exception, even if it didn’t trouble her in the slightest.

Glancing to the town behind her, Alphamon recalled how she had hoped she could have a peaceful time away from the castle and see how the other Digimon were doing. They were having a festival of sorts and the Knight, curious and hoping to enjoy the short festivities, had come while disguised, hoping that the other Digimon wouldn’t be too intrigued about her identity. Then again, considering she came while looking like a walking mound of cloak and clothes, she admitted in hindsight that she didn’t exactly think of her disguise too thoroughly and it was later proven after she had to shed it to attack the thugs.

The Royal Knights played their part in keeping peace as a bigger picture and many did so with the noblest intentions, but they were mostly legends to the eyes of common folk, their names being bearer of shining myths and legends. Strange as her habit was to her comrades, she still liked to go incognito and see how the Digimon they protected were doing. Examon and Imperialdramon had often voiced objections to her, the former more vocally so. She could hardly blame them, of course, but she trusted the other Knights to be able to handle matters in her occasional absence.

Looking at the Rookies and In-Training, Alphamon could see that they were scared. Perhaps the bandits’ presence left more of a mark on the young ones than she had originally thought. Turning to them, she crouched down and extended her hand. “It’s alright. They won’t bother you anymore,” she said to them, her voice gentle, yet deep and brimming with authority.

However, instead of being reassured, an Upamon among the group squeaked and shirked away from her hand. The other In-Training were less nervous, but just as scared. The Rookies seemed to handle her presence better, but they way they looked at her…

Alphamon felt a deep sting inside her chest.

Why did they fear her? Had she done something wrong?

“T-Thank you!” Alphamon’s attention turned to a Biyomon who had mustered the courage to approach her, clearly trying to break the ice. “Thank you, Alphamon!”

The sting subsided, if just a little bit.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, gently patting the Rookie’s shoulder with all the care in the world. She then watched as the others took the Biyomon’s lead and finally let their voices out, her attitude towards the pink Rookie certainly helping her case. A hidden smile as she heard them laugh and watched them look up to her adoringly, but there was an unmistakable nervousness that she couldn’t help but notice. As she watched them leave, a nagging thought she had been having crept up to her, one that had haunted her for quite some time.

“Who are we to those we protect?” she asked herself. “Are we truly nothing more than authority? A name spoken to pave way to obedience? A name announced to strike fear?”

She tried asking the same questions to her fellow Knights, but she herself couldn’t come up with an answer.

And a forlorn emptiness filled her armored chest.

---
Zei blinked again. And found herself staring the plain mirror in front of her, along with ivory white tile wall of her apartment bathroom. She was home in a blink of an eye, once again seeing a familiar surroundings. However, looking at her reflection brought a painful reminder of her current state: bloodshot eyes, black bags, and pale skin. 

She didn’t recognize the red stains on the edges of the sink, however.

She also didn’t recall keeping a small translucent orange container anywhere on her sink either. It’s filled with capsules. Were those medicines? Why did she keep them here?

For some reason, Zei felt numb. Her entire head felt empty, but there was an unmistakable sting of pain somewhere on her body. Without her willing to, she cast her eyes down. 

While Zei was no stranger to cuts and bruises, she had mostly received them from another party, be it from her enemies or by accidentally bumping into things.

Yet here she was, right hand holding a bloody cutter, the other clutching onto the sink, blood slowly trickling out of the wound on her arm, one that was implied to be self-inflicted. It didn’t appear to be an isolated incident either; multiple scars adorned said arm with the freshest one adding another tally.

Her vision wavered again just as she heard Dorumon yell at her. She turned to see her running towards her, her eyes wide with shock and worry. Just before her vision faded, she noticed a male figure racing towards the bathroom as well, his voice bearing an unmistakably familiar British accent.

---
Dorugoramon blinked again. This time, her vision was finally cleared.

In fact, it was more than just her vision that had been cleared. The horizon in front of her had also been cleared.

Cleared of life. Cleared of signs of civilization. Cleared of existence.

It was a dark vision of finality, one that Moon=Millenniummon would ideally bring upon the human world. Nothing but dirt and ash remained in her sight and the air was still and suffocating, even for a Mega Digimon born partially out of a Dark Digivolution. Reflecting the desolate Earth, the sky above was a shade of charred black, lacking the beauty or even the solace of a true night’s sky. Dorugoramon looked around, hoping to find something, anything she could recognize.

But nothing appeared.

Seeing nothing but an empty land, she let out a loud roar, trying to find someone. Enemies, bystanders, allies, Examon. Anyone. 

But nobody came.

She was alone, confused and alone once again.

Fear led to grief and that grief found the loneliness buried underneath the dragon’s scales.

Dorugoramon let out a soft, high-pitched cry. Already disoriented by the fog and confused by the sudden change in environment, relieving the loneliness inherent to her components reignited the rage that codified her early stages of existence. In a maelstrom of fury and gripping primal will, she then let out a loud roar, the sound akin to steel blades being ground against one another.
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