Ajak's words hung in the vast, echoing silence of the Uruk-inspired throne room, the implications of her request settling over the polished marble floor. I kept my expression perfectly neutral, my eyes locked on the two Eternals kneeling before the dais. I did not let myself show any immediate signs of agreeing or disagreeing, leaning my chin against my armored knuckles as if I were merely pondering a logistical puzzle. Internally, however, my mind was racing.
*Take Ikaris as a concubine?*
The suggestion had caught me completely off guard. Why would she ask for this specifically? But as I let the heavy silence stretch, I forced myself to examine the proposal strictly from Ajak's perspective. It only took a few moments for the tactical brilliance of her request to click perfectly into place. This wasn't just about securing a generous reward for her little brother, although I knew she cared for him deeply. This was calculated politics.
I was soon going to be building an empire within this Divine Space. As my divine energy grew and the dungeons flourished, I would inevitably create, recruit, or subjugate many more Divine Servants. I needed an army to manage the myriad worlds I planned to bridge and create. And not all of those future servants would share the Eternals' core values, nor would they necessarily get along. Factions would inevitably form. Vicious political battles for my favor, for resources, and for influence were a certainty. Just because the Eternals were my first creations did not guarantee they would maintain their high standing in the hierarchy of my future court.
However, if I took Ikaris as a concubine—my absolute first at that—their faction's position would be virtually unassailable. Ikaris, who was fiercely protective, ruthlessly efficient, and unconditionally loyal, would never allow his siblings to be pushed out or marginalized by newer, potentially more powerful servants. Ajak had been alive for roughly a month, yet she was already projecting centuries into the future. She had formulated a plan in mere moments after hearing my question that perfectly benefited her family while ensuring I received something deeply satisfying in return. She truly was a born leader.
And if I were being completely honest with myself, it was a highly appealing arrangement. I had never particularly cared about the gender of my bed partners, so long as the chemistry was right and they were skilled enough to keep up with me. Between the miserable, isolating end of my previous life on Earth and my relentless, obsessive focus since reincarnating into this divine body, I was enduring an agonizing dry spell. If I combined my time here with my past life, it added up to about four months since I had last had sex. My enhanced, divine physiology certainly wasn't helping curb my naturally high sex drive.
I could, theoretically, shift back into my human form, slip through the gate, and find a quick one-night stand in NY or nearby cities. But this was the DC universe. I knew exactly how that usually ended for ordinary people, let alone a fledgling god radiating unknown divine energy. You go to a club in Gotham or Metropolis looking for a good time and you end up taking home a crazed magic-wielding witch, a shapeshifting eldritch abomination, or some ancient alien overlord scouting Earth for a covert invasion. Absolutely not. The mortal world was a minefield of cosmic hazards right now.
Keeping my physical entanglements in-house with someone who was literally programmed to be unconditionally loyal worked out perfectly for all involved parties.
I focused my attention back on Ajak and Sersi. The extended, oppressive silence had clearly begun to fray their nerves. They were visibly worried. Sersi shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting to the floor, while Ajak's confident posture wavered. They clearly thought that Ajak had severely overstepped her bounds and had made me angry by presuming to direct my personal desires.
Just as Ajak opened her mouth, undoubtedly to beg for forgiveness, I raised a hand and interrupted her.
"I agree to your suggestion," I said, my voice resonating with calm, undeniable authority.
The tension evaporated from the room so quickly it was almost palpable. Sersi let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and Ajak's shoulders dropped in profound relief.
"After Ikaris returns from his current task, he will be given the opportunity to be the first to join my harem," I continued, offering Ajak a small, approving smile to ease her lingering anxiety. "You have my thanks for the idea. You two may go now."
"Thank you, Lord Amir," Ajak bowed deeply, her voice trembling slightly with gratitude and reverence. "We live only to serve your will."
As they rose and gracefully exited through the heavy oak and gold doors, I allowed myself a genuine grin, happy that the tense conversation was over with. With my immediate to-do list finally clear, I could just kick back, monitor the dungeon, and watch the show until Ikaris got back. I could have some real fun later, because there was absolutely no way Ikaris was going to say no to his reward. I settled deeper into my throne, waving a hand to bring the holographic surveillance screens of File Island back to the center of the room.
***
I stared at the empty patch of grass where Ikaris had been standing just moments before. The blinding flash of golden light had faded, leaving behind only the gentle, persistent hum of Primary Village and the soft rustling of the digital leaves overhead. My mind raced, my detective instincts trying to categorize the sheer intensity of the Eternal's departure. He had been called away by the Creator himself. The mystery God, Lord Amir.
Beside me, Wally let out a low, breathy whistle. "Okay, so... that happened. Did you guys see his face? He looked like he just won the lottery and found out he could run at the speed of light at the exact same time."
"He was summoned by the being who gave him life," Kaldur said, his voice measured but laced with a profound, lingering unease. "We cannot easily comprehend that level of devotion. But it is clear we must be very careful with how we speak of this Lord Amir."
"Careful is an understatement," Conner muttered, his fists clenched tight at his sides. "He practically worships the ground this guy walks on. It's creepy."
Before I could analyze the psychological profile of the Eternals any further, a shrill, highly energetic laugh echoed across the courtyard.
We all turned to see Piximon floating slowly toward us, his tiny wings buzzing rapidly. He looked a bit disheveled, his pink fur ruffled, clearly having just managed to escape Ogremon's overprotective, suffocating attempts at nursing him back to full health.
"I can tell just by looking at your faces!" Piximon chuckled, twirling his spear with practiced ease as he approached. "You got your first look at Ikaris fanboying over the Creator, didn't ya?"
I narrowed my eyes behind my domino mask. "Fanboying is certainly one word for it. It was like a switch flipped in his head."
"Most are just as shocked the first time," Piximon said, settling down on the edge of the large stone fountain. He dipped his small feet toward the crystal-clear water, looking surprisingly relaxed for someone who had nearly been crushed by SkullGreymon yesterday. "For someone so usually serious and arrogant as him, it's very shocking to see such a side at first. But you get used to it once you understand where he's coming from. Just be careful not to easily bring up the Creator in casual conversation, and you'll be fine."
"Got it. Thanks for the tip," I said, filing the behavioral warning away in my mental database. Pushing Ikaris on the subject of his god was a tactical error I would not repeat. "But before Ikaris started his impromptu sermon, I actually still had a few questions. It's probably for the best I ask you guys instead."
Tentomon fluttered down from a nearby archway and landed squarely on my shoulder, his large green eyes blinking curiously. "Go ahead, Dick. We'll answer as best we can."
"Yeah, ask away!" Gomamon added, splashing his flippers in the fountain beside Piximon.
I crossed my arms, organizing the data I had gathered since arriving on File Island. We were about to head to the general store to spend our Dungeon Coins, but the sheer alien nature of this world kept bothering me.
"There are just a few things I wanted clarification on before we went shopping," I began, looking between Tentomon and Piximon. "Like, how long do Digimon usually live? Because I've yet to see an elderly Digimon besides Jijimon in all the time we've been here. I'm starting to think you guys just don't do the whole dying of old age thing."
I meant it as a half-joke, a probe to see just how far their aging process worked on a radically different scale than human biology. Kaldur, Wally, and Conner nodded in agreement; they had clearly been wondering the same thing.
But the reaction we got was entirely unexpected.
Tentomon tilted his head, his antennae twitching erratically. Gomamon stopped splashing. Piximon blinked, leaning forward with a look of pure, unadulterated confusion. They were staring at me as if I had just spoken in reverse, or suddenly switched to a dead language.
"I can easily answer this question, child," Piximon said, scratching the side of his round, pink head. "We Digimon are immortal unless killed. But I must admit, I didn't understand the last part of your sentence either. There is something wrong with the Digivices' natural translation abilities, or the words you speak just don't exist in our language."
The team fell completely silent. My mind snapped the puzzle pieces together in a fraction of a second, but Kaldur voiced the realization first.
"Of course," Kaldur murmured, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at the device clipped to his belt. "We never really thought about why you all spoke the same language as us. It turns out you don't do so at all."
"So Piximon, you say our Digivices are translating for us," I said, tapping the sleek metallic casing of my own device. "That makes perfect sense. It interprets our intent and projects it in a way you understand, and vice versa."
"And of course there would be a few words that just don't exist, or the meaning is too different for the translation to go through," Kaldur concluded, looking at Piximon with profound understanding. "As a species that is naturally immortal, you wouldn't have such a phrase as dying of old age, because it's physically impossible for you."
It was a staggering realization. We had been so caught up in the physical survival of this world, dodging corrupted monsters and mastering our crests, that we had completely glossed over the fundamental, existential differences between our species. We were fragile mortals fighting alongside beings of perpetual, undying data.
"Yes, it is very interesting to think about the difference in our languages," Piximon said.
But the playful, curious lilt in his voice suddenly vanished. The warm smile dropped from his face entirely, replaced by a grim, hardened expression that belonged to a veteran commander who had survived centuries of brutal warfare. The shift in atmosphere was instantaneous. The soft sounds of the village seemed to mute. Wally shifted his weight off his recently healed leg, Conner's jaw set like granite, and I instinctively dropped my center of gravity into a more balanced stance. We couldn't really relax. Not yet.
"But I think that's enough small talk for now," Piximon commanded quietly, his eyes locking onto mine with piercing intensity. "Go ahead. Ask the real question you've been wanting to know all day but didn't get to ask Ikaris before he left again."
We all knew exactly what he meant. The shadow hanging over the Server Continent. The phantom threat that had been whispered about since we first got our crests and then before defeating Devimon's forces in this very square.
"Yes," Kaldur said, stepping forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me, projecting his authority as our team leader. "We know Ikaris talked to you about it before we met. Before you both were rushing to get us ready. But now..."
Kaldur didn't need to finish the sentence aloud. The tension radiating through the air said it all. We needed to know about the Mega-level threat that was supposedly waking up beneath the continent, the catastrophic force that was supposed to be here possibly tomorrow at the earliest. Etemon and Myotismon were terrifying enough as Ultimates, but a Mega was a world-ender.
Piximon looked at the four of us, taking in our battered but resolute postures. He gripped his staff tighter, his gaze distant for a fraction of a second as if recalling a nightmare.
"Yes," Piximon finally said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight that sent a profound chill down my spine. "That won't be a problem... for now."