Chapter 143: I just wanted to do it, so I did it.
I... where am I?!
The words scraped out of Impmon's throat like dry sand. Dragging himself from the suffocating depths of a hazy nightmare, he instinctively tried to push himself up. A sudden, blinding spike of agony tore through his nerves, stealing the breath from his lungs and nearly ripping a scream from his lips. He collapsed back down, panting heavily against the rough fabric of his makeshift bed.
A low, steady voice drifted from the shadows to his right. "It is best if you do not move around right now."
The speaker shifted, the sound of claws clicking softly against the stone floor. "After all, we just pulled you back from the absolute brink."
"I... what happened to me?" Impmon murmured, forcing his heavy eyelids open. He turned his head by a fraction, squinting into the dim light.
A dark silhouette sat quietly beside him. BlackAgumon.
The memory surfaced through the fog of pain. This was the Digimon he had brought into the castle alongside BlackGatomon. Most of the time, the dark reptile remained entirely silent, radiating a heavy, suffocating pressure that made others instinctively step out of his way.
Yet here he was, sitting vigil over a broken, discarded pawn. BlackAgumon's reptilian features were completely smooth, devoid of the irritation or disgust Impmon usually received from stronger Digimon.
Sensing the sheer disbelief radiating from the smaller demon, BlackAgumon let out a quiet sigh and shook his head. "Do not look at me like that. This is far from the first time I have patched someone up." He paused, a faint, almost fond light entering his eyes. "After all, you have seen the kind of company I keep."
"...No, that is not what I meant." Impmon gritted his teeth, fighting through the lingering ache in his chest. He fixed his dull golden eyes on the dark dinosaur. "What I want to ask is... why are you wasting your time on me?"
He coughed, a weak, rattling sound. "BlackGatomon acts like this, and now you..."
As the fog in his mind cleared, the brutal memories of his punishment flooded back. The cold stone floor. The merciless strikes. The absolute indifference in Myotismon's eyes. The recollection made his chest tighten, but it only deepened his confusion.
"I do not understand it. I am just a pathetic, weak Digimon. If you want data or treasure, I have nothing to give you..."
"Stop. Just stop." BlackAgumon raised a clawed hand, cutting off the self-deprecating spiral. He let out another long breath. The gaze he leveled at Impmon carried a strange mixture of resignation and a quiet, aching pity. "Enough of that."
"The reason we pulled you from the brink has nothing to do with hidden agendas or grand schemes." BlackAgumon leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "You said it yourself. You are a Rookie level. You possess no hidden power, no secret wealth, and no grand influence for us to exploit."
"If you absolutely must have a reason for why we saved you..." BlackAgumon tilted his head, his tone remarkably casual for such a heavy conversation. "It is simply because we wanted to. So we did."
He gestured vaguely toward the door. "In that regard, BlackGatomon and I operate on the exact same logic."
Impmon stared hard into BlackAgumon's eyes, searching for the lie. He looked for the familiar greed, the cruelty, the mockery that defined every interaction in his miserable life. He found none of it.
A complicated, heavy sigh escaped his lips. "...You are all completely inexplicable."
He turned his face away, staring at the blank stone wall. "You are so strange. You do not even act like Digimon from this world."
"Perhaps." BlackAgumon did not offer a single word of denial. A faint smile touched his reptilian snout. "However, we do not consider that a flaw."
He shifted his gaze toward the small, barred window, looking out at the oppressive gloom of the castle grounds. "Ever since the darkness wrapped its claws around this world, the hearts and hopes of nearly every Digimon have been in a constant, agonizing freefall. How much time has truly passed since the light faded? In this endless stretch of shadows, our kind has slowly discarded the very things we should have guarded most fiercely."
His voice dropped to a quiet, reverent murmur. "The beauty of the past. The warmth of connection."
Impmon lay entirely still, letting the words wash over him. On any other day, he would have sneered. He would have spat out a cruel joke, mocking the larger Digimon for spouting such pathetic, weak-minded nonsense.
But right now, his throat felt tight. An unfamiliar patience settled over his battered frame. He actually wanted to listen. He needed to understand the minds of these bizarre anomalies who walked alongside BlackGatomon and that strange human.
Was it simply because they had dragged him back from the abyss of deletion? Or was it something deeper, a desperate craving for the very warmth BlackAgumon was describing?
Taking Impmon's silence as an invitation, BlackAgumon continued, his voice steady and resonant in the quiet room. "I know my words sound absurd in a reality governed entirely by the survival of the fittest. The strong devour the weak. That is the law. But..."
He turned back to look at the small demon. "Are we truly meant to exist in this world solely to survive? If mere survival was our only purpose, why were we granted reason? Why were we burdened with emotion, with grief, with the capacity to care? If living was the only goal, we should have been created as mindless, pure beasts, driven only by instinct."
BlackAgumon slowly opened and closed his clawed hand, staring at the dark scales. "I have not found the complete answer to that question yet. However, by watching certain others, I have witnessed the very things I always wanted to pursue, even when I had no idea what they looked like."
"So..." Impmon finally broke his silence, his voice raspy but sharp. He turned his head back, his dark golden eyes locking onto BlackAgumon's surprisingly gentle expression. "You do not actually want to serve under Myotismon. Do you?"
Meeting the piercing stare, BlackAgumon did not flinch. He offered a single, decisive nod. "That is correct."
"...In other words, I was nothing but a convenient tool to get you inside?" Impmon asked, the words tasting like ash on his tongue.
"If that reality brings you discomfort, I am willing to offer you a sincere apology on their behalf," BlackAgumon replied, his tone devoid of mockery.
"It is fine..." Impmon forced his lips into a grin, though the expression was brittle and steeped in bitterness. "Maybe a few days ago, I would have thrown a fit. I would have been furious that you played me for a fool. But now..."
A shadow crossed his face. The phantom pain of Myotismon's casual brutality flared in his chest, bringing with it a wave of deep clarity.
"Now, I suddenly feel like... having enough value to actually be used is not such a terrible fate."
He let out a dry, hollow chuckle. The true terror was not being manipulated. The absolute worst nightmare was being utterly worthless. Being a piece of trash that no one even bothered to pick up.
The merciless beating at the hands of his so-called master had shattered his delusions. He finally understood why his frantic efforts, his desperate groveling, and his wholehearted loyalty had never earned him a single glance of approval from the vampire lord.
To Myotismon, he was less than dirt. Even that defiant, rebellious Gatomon held infinitely more worth in the dark lord's eyes than Impmon ever would.
The realization was a jagged pill to swallow, but it grounded him. He let the silence stretch for a long moment before speaking again, his tone entirely flat. "Since that is the truth of the matter, my usefulness to your group should have expired the exact second I got you past the front gates. Right?"
"From a purely tactical standpoint, yes. That might be true." BlackAgumon watched the small demon closely, seeing the dead, ashen look in his eyes. He leaned in, speaking with deliberate, unyielding clarity. "But Impmon, do you remember what I just told you?"
"The reason we pulled you from the rubble was not born from some grand, complicated scheme." BlackAgumon's voice carried a quiet, absolute conviction. "It was simply because I wanted to. Or rather... I looked at you, and I felt that I could not just stand by and watch you fade away into scattered data. So, I acted."
He straightened his posture. "That is all there is to it."
Having delivered his piece, BlackAgumon decided it was time to let the injured Digimon process the revelation. "Alright. You have exhausted enough energy for one day. You need time to rest and let your data stabilize. We can save the rest of this conversation for another time."
He pushed himself up from the chair, his heavy footfalls completely silent against the stone as he turned toward the door.
"Hey..." Impmon's raspy voice cut through the gloom, halting the dark dinosaur in his tracks. "Are you not worried at all?"
BlackAgumon paused, glancing over his shoulder. "Worried about what, exactly?"
"Are you not terrified that I will drag myself out of this bed and report your little infiltration to Myotismon?"
A low, rumbling chuckle escaped BlackAgumon's throat. "It is fine. Go ahead and tell him if you wish."
He turned his head forward again, raising a clawed hand in a casual wave. "After all, I have already given you my answer."
"I acted because I felt it was the right thing to do. Correspondingly, I am fully prepared to face whatever consequences my choices might bring down upon my head." He stepped into the doorway, the shadows of the hall reaching out to swallow his silhouette. "As for what you choose to do with your second chance... that is entirely your own business."
With those final, heavy words, BlackAgumon stepped out of the room, never once looking back.
He left Impmon alone in the dim light, the small demon's face twisted in a storm of conflicting, agonizing emotions as he stared in absolute silence at the empty doorway.
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