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Observation Log 1.X

It was a few hours later that they'd managed to repair Skyler's file enough that it could be safely run. A much smaller subsection of Archive's database, scanning them for any latent executable was a simple task, but one they still didn't like the exertion of. It always came with a jumble of short term memories, flashes of events without context and even complete imagery.

Things Arca had put away for a reason.

A purple and pink wire-frame appeared on the podium, startling Tulty from a thoughtful doze where he'd been on the edge of Archive's platform. He'd insisted on coming with once they'd all realized Skyler had been dusted by Requiem... again. Even though Arca would've preferred for once he go back to his own podium and stay away from theirs.

"They're okay?" he asked.

"Of course," Arca flatly said, watching Skyler blink disoriented eyes open.

"What happened?" They looked around, pink pupils flicking between Archive and Tulty. "Last I remember, I was at Requiem's podium."

"He hacked my database," came Arca's hiss, "through you."

"What do you mean?" Sky frowned. "I remember falling asleep, like usual."

"That explains the access records you found, I believe." Tulty pushed himself up. "It would appear that Requiem has been using you like this for a while."

"But..." Sky's gaze met Archive's, unusually firm compared to the usual discomforted glances they'd exchange. "How'd it take you this long to notice, if that's the case?"

"Because this time he accessed my locked files." Arca's voice was low. They made no attempt to lighten it even as Sky took a half-step back. "He wouldn't have been able to do that without practice. Lots of it."

Skyler slipped their hands into their pocket, frown hardening into a metered look.

"Okay. What can you do about it?"

"What can I do about it?" Archive lunged, claws hooking around the faux polyester fur of their jacket model. "You're the one who ignored me every single time I told you going near that freak was a bad idea!"

Hanging from Archive's claws, they somehow managed to look calm. Don't they know this is serious? Archive could feel threads snipping in Sky's jacket— a memory of some cheap jacket neither of them could recall how it had first been acquired. A ghost in data, attached to the specter of Skyler.

"So... it's about this again, then, is it?" They didn't like the calm wash on Sky's expression. "I apparently get turned into a backdoor entrance with who knows what consequences on my own file integrity, and you're more concerned that your secrets are out than why I keep visiting the others."

Archive's grimace would have looked more at home on Wrath's puppet.

"I let you leave Subspace, even though if anything ever happened to your file it could corrupt my entire database." They pulled Sky up, legs dangling, face to face with them. "You're the one that keeps coming back here like there's anything for you."

"And what else am I gonna do about it?" Sky hung on to their belt-clad wrists. "There's not a world for someone who isn't human or Digimon, unless you chose to forget that too."

"Would the both of you cease?" Tulty interjected, taking a step closer. "This is doing neither of you any good."

"They're the one that won't let me cut them off!"

"You're the one whose Digicore formed around human mental data!"

"Please," Tulty shouted. It was too late to stop this argument from happening, though.

"Maybe you should've died in the Human World like a human, then!"

The blow was low, but Archive didn't feel like trying to reign it back in, even as Skyler's face turned pale. Their grip loosened on Archive's wrists, and no words matched the hollow look that bored into Archive's own.

"Archive." Tulty took another step closer—

"Maybe," Archive said, interrupting him with a loud hiss, "I should convince you to take what freedom you can get and leave. For good."

Krrrrrrrrrrrip! Sky fell a few inches before Arca grabbed now onto them, rather than their torn jacket.

"Since you're too stupid to get it, I'll spell it out for you. I don't want you here. Not in my database, not in Subspace, not anywhere I ever have to see you again. One of these days I'll figure out how to separate the both of us, and then all I have to do is dump you in some forgotten Digital World. And that's it, it'll be the end of it."

Even seeing them tear up, Archive plowed on, too angry to stop.

"If this doesn't convince you, though, nothing will. But I'm not afraid of locking you up like the rest of the dead files in my database."

"Arca," they choked out, hurt the only mask for their own anger.

"See how much trouble you can get into on a tether." Archive threw their body into their nearest claw, which swallowed them like a gulp of air."I have a security breach to repair."

As Skyler dissolved into data within the claw, Arca's hands balled into bleeding fists at their side. This was an option they hadn't want to employ, but Skyler had left no other choice on the table.

Next to them, stunned and helpless, Tulty's cape twitched before curling shut around him. There was a long moment of silence before he had the words to voice his concern.

"Was that... necessary, Archive?" His voice was low, barely a whisper.

"What else am I supposed to do?" They snapped at him, finally bearing the anger in their yellow eyes upon him. "Requiem accessed one of my locked files, through Skyler. And now I have to do a full database scan, pray he didn't leave any remnant data behind, then make sure it can't happen again."

"What about..." Tulty hesitated, incapable of sustaining eye contact with Arca. He looked away, at the closed claw they'd thrown Skyler into.

"If they can't be responsible enough to stay away from Digimon that want to hurt them, then they get to stay put like the rest of us."

Tulty's posture straightened.

"You're the only one that has made that choice for yourself," he said in an even voice. "You can't make it for Skyler. Especially not like this."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Let Requiem hack me, an Apocalymon still capable of exploding? I don't want to die, Tulty. I won't let him format me."

It was sound enough reason for caution, yes, but Tulty still watched Archive with disappointment.

"Skyler is partnered to all of us, Archive. We may never know why, but that hasn't stopped them from trying their best." He sighed, stepping towards his own claw at the podium. "I understand that you are scared, but lashing out the way you did will only do damage in the long run." When he saw Archive about to respond, Tulty interrupted, "And that does not mean I am any more comfortable with the premise of them running so recklessly into danger. I simply believe there are better options than threatening the same curse our species-type is born to upon them. Better options still than something worse."

At that, they had no response, deflating with a hint of shame and frustration. They looked away, signaling the conversation was over.

Observation Log 2.X

Sky came out of the connection kicking the claw their model loaded on, shrieking profanities at the top of their lungs with little care for the audience whose podium they'd appeared at.

A purple cable extended from the back of their neck to the center of the pentagonal claw, a promise that Archive's words hadn't been exaggeration. Of course not. For once, Skyler's problems had crossed the threshold into Arca's, and now they were once more nothing more than a curiosity to be tied to Archive's body like a dog.

"I know you can hear me!" they screamed up at the claw. Tethered, Arca could probably hear a pointed thought. "I hope this hurts you as much as it does my stupid model!"

Sky punctuated their complaint with another sore kick to the metal beneath them. Their entire body shook with anger they hadn't felt since Arca'd found the data of their corpse. Maybe they'd felt this furious off before, but they couldn't remember. They couldn't remembermuch of anything before they'd ended up here, and that was the heart of this whole matter.

Cheeks wet with tears and red with emotion, even as digital as they were now, they had to stop soon enough, panting with exertion. Every byte of ram they could use was now rate limited. This sense memory, the feeling of exhaustion like a blanket of pain was among the worst of their few remnant memories.

It was silent, save their pulse in their ears as they waited, the situation slowly settling into the aches of their joints.

Until, that is, the Crimson Apocalymon spoke up.

"Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you this pissed," he commented, the pinch in his pitch somewhere between condescending and believably surprised. "What'd they do?"

Skyler said nothing, instead turning their attention to the arrangement of the claws around them. Archive wouldn't let them go to Requiem, that much was clear; Tulty, they were uncertain if he would indulge them so much as a message to their largest neighbor. But they needed to get back to Requiem. They needed to see this through, even if they'd only gotten this far by the grace of a glitch in the process.

We were so close this time. I know it.

Getting their body trapped in his claw, even if it would cut the connection and render the model dissolved (and Skyler back at an even angrier Archive), would still send a fairly clear message: won't be by for a while.

Archive's claw was only adjacent to Tulty's. The others dangled over edges further away. Sky wondered if they'd been petty enough to move their claw before leaving them on this podium.

"Seriously, what's wrong with you?"

"Not like you give a shit," Sky snapped. "Do me a favor. It's simple and it'll probably be cathartic."

"Tch." Apocalymon scoffed, looking away even as Sky stamped up to his podium.

"Go on, snip this cable and throw me into Requiem's claw."

"The cable that's keeping you loaded in?" He sneered. "Like I want Archive to sic their buddy on me. I like having access to the Network, thank you."

Sky dug their palms into their eyes with a groan, stepping away and towards Requiem's claw. As they'd suspected, the length would've only been enough to get to Tulty's, even on this smaller podium.

They considered it, briefly. Then, they considered also the idea of trying to run and snap the cable with their own strength.

They gave it a tug, much to their disdain at the sharp pain that radiated from where it connected to their head. It felt sturdy, but maybe...

"Okay, stop." They wouldn't have, were it not for Apocalymon grabbing their arm. "What did they do?"

"What do you care?" Sky tried to pull out of Apocalymon's grip. "You said as much yesterday, you don't want me touching you. You've never wanted anything to do with me. So just let me through."

"And let Requiem do whatever the hell it was he tried again?" His grip was tight. "Contrary to what you all think, I am capable of caring, you know."

"It's only a problem because he managed to unlock Archive's database, not mine." Even if they put all their weight into pulling away, all it would get them was more pain. They refused to look at Apocalymon. Not while their face was still stained with frustration and tears.

"And you want the giant freak picking around your head like an autopsy?" They could hear the judgmental grimace in his tone. "Maybe I should ignore you, yeah. Get all this over with a bit quicker since you want to hand him a free bomb."

"I'm not convinced that's what he wants." It was difficult to speak evenly.

"That's what he says he wants."

"And what you said you wanted was for me to get off of you." They tugged with emphasis at where Apocalymon still held them. "We don't all say what we mean."

"That makes you think you know what he wants, then?"

"Not like you'd believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

Shocked at Apocalymon's persistence, Sky glanced over to be met with a sober expression. As best as he could manage, both eyes were focused on them, his mouth a thin line. Even the collar of his cape was still, when normally it twitched and angled with agitation.

"I don't... I don't know what he wants," they admitted in a frail voice. "But I can tell that if they'd wanted to do the worst, they would've already."

"Lot of faith to have in someone that, might I remind you, hacked you like a calculator." His grip loosened— not enough to escape, but enough that it stopped hurting. "How can you trust him like that?"

Sky sighed, tapping the fingers of their free hand against their chest.

"Same way I know when to back off with you, usually," they said. "Or that Archive needs me to indulge a silly idea, or Tulty wants to tell me about some weird fact he learned."

Apocalymon was quiet a moment, before lowering his arm and podium alike. Sky followed, grateful for the chance to sit down even if it went unspoken.

"I thought... it was one way," he admitted in a murmur. "It's hard to tell, sometimes."

"What?"

"Where yours and my anger separate." Seeing the look on their face, he added, "As you were rendering, though, I'd never felt it so clearly. Is that..."

He looked away again, a grimace on his face.

"Do I scare you?"

"No, not really." It was the truth, despite everything Apocalymon had put Skyler through. "Sorry if that's disappointing."

"I've never felt someone else's negative emotions like this," his hand tensed as he spoke, "where it doesn't bring me any pleasure at all."

It was Sky's turn for silence now, finally recognizing the vulnerability in Apocalymon's posture. This time, when they pulled away, he let them. They turned to face him fully, grabbing his claws with tentative care.

"You're scared," they said simply, feeling the anger drain from them, concern rushing into its void.

Apocalymon winced. He didn't snatch his claws back, though.

Sky's parting words from yesterday wrapped around their throat.

"I'm sorry," they said, suddenly. "For yesterday. What I said was cruel."

"It was right, though."

"No." Sky took a deep breath, some semblance of their senses reasserting themselves. "Look. You deserve better. I really mean it. And even if I can't remember, I know I've been in shit like this before. Getting mad at you for being mad is only going to make it worse."

Apocalymon seemed confused by the logic. "I'm darkness incarnate. What are you expecting? Sunshine and rainbows?"

"No. I'm just saying Arca is wrong. About you and Requiem." They were face to face, Apocalymon sunk into his podium as he was. Sky took their hands back slowly, before meaningfully cupping them in front of his face.

The look he gave them was incredulous. He played along, though.

"If for nothing else than spite, I'd like to prove it to them."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Apocalymon asked as Sky's hands went to his helmet.

"You're going to have to work with me a bit. It starts with you recognizing that you're more than an unpleasant pit of darkness." He tolerated them gingerly polishing the dome of his helmet. It was a welcome distraction from the faint tremor still reminding them of how angry they were. "Or, well, whatever it is you described yourself as when we met."

Apocalymon made a displeased grumble at that.

"What's your point? Get to it so you can get your greasy human hands off of me."

"You give off light, you know."

He jerked, as if contemplating pushing them back.

"More than you might think."

With a feather-light touch, they drew over the circuitry on his helmet. The red lines glowed, rarely oscillating as if data exchanged through them. They were smooth to the touch, though, like Apocalymon's helmet was covered in resin. It was strange. It was familiar, in a way that Sky couldn't place in any of their post-death memories. Another reminder of what wasn't remembered.

"But here's the thing: even if you didn't, even if you were as bad as you say you are, would it justify a moment of the cruelty you all have experienced?"

It wasn't pity in their voice, but a genuine anger so precise they knew it could be missed if they hadn't literally grabbed Apocalymon's attention.

"What does this have to do with proving Archive wrong?" he asked. "What's it got to do with anything?"

"You want your Roaming Mode, don't you?"

He leaned against where their hands braced his helmet. He didn't want to beg for it— they both knew that. But he was listening.

"If you and I can figure out what's been keeping you from it, what's been keeping you from tapping into our partner bond, then we'll have proved Archive wrong. We'll prove that Tulty and them aren't the only ones capable of change."

For perhaps the first time since they'd met him, Apocalymon rested his eyes, a gravelly sigh making its way out of him.

"I would like that," he murmured.

"Then let's figure out where to start."

"Ugh." He opened his eyes to see a warm smile on Sky's face, utterly genuine. They wondered if he could feel the sincerity in the gesture. When they moved to pull their hands back, however, he set a claw to stop them. "First thing: I want a name."

"Okay?" It hadn't even occurred to them, but he was the only one of them without one. "Wrath" had always been a placeholder, after all. "What did you have in mind?"

"If you tell that smug asshole any of this, I'll find a way to load you," he snapped, but the anger was cold and insincere. Sky watched him, urging Apocalymon to continue. "...I liked what you said. That I give off a bit of light, despite being born without any."

"So?"

"You're the one attached to a database made out of creative junk. Figure something out."

"What? You didn't have an idea for yourself? Arca and Req named themselves, you know."

"Yeah, and Tulty let Arca call him some stupid derivative of 'the ultimate evil.' I think the bar's at the center of a black hole."

Sky snorted at that.

"Something that's in between, huh?" they mused aloud. "How about Eclipse?"

He lit up at the suggestion, as if clockwork had clicked into place, and smiled.

Observation Log 3.X

It was not often that Tulty visited Requiem's podium. If he could help it, in truth, he avoided the large Apocalymon much the same way Archive did. The only difference, however, was that it was not out of disgust, as Archive seemed intent to feel, but out of shame.

After all, of the four of them, Requiem was most similar to Tulty, no matter how much he had changed since recovering from his own explosion years ago.

"You are not the human," Requiem plainly observed, angling a look towards Tulty with utterly no emotion in the gesture. Disdain nor joy. Absolutely blank. "Have you come to donate data to our mass?"

"No." Tulty sat at the edge of his superstructure's claw, lifting one metal flat just high enough to comfortably dangle his legs. While his Digicore was not in this puppet, he preferred to take no risks in allowing Requiem to reach it. "I wished to speak with you."

Requiem, ever taciturn, simply turned the beak of his mask fully towards Tulty. His eyes had no internal movement, so it felt much like being scouted by some bird of prey. Tulty figured he was as much a morsel to Requiem as a mouse to a hawk, unfortunately.

"We speak freely enough with the charge of us all," Requiem said. "Their tardiness speaks to the consequence of my discovery, no doubt."

"It does, in fact. Why did you do that?"

Silence. Tulty supposed that would be the answer. Requiem was a mon of secrets, after all.

"Archive is quite angry at you for using Skyler like that."

"And what matters their feelings toward us?"

"Is what you desire isolation?" The metal feet of Tulty's puppet crossed at the ankle, a casual gesture that had taken months of familiarity with his roaming mode to perfect. To Requiem, he knew it would look far too human. "You won't see Skyler again, if you continue like this."

Tulty knit his fingers over his knees, watching Requiem's body language as best he could. The larger Apocalymon had always been much more experienced at obfuscating his own intent. Each movement felt like the carefully-sculpted movement of an animation— painstakingly crafted for weeks, despite its spontaneous appearance. It didn't surprise Tulty that Skyler had been tricked.

Then again, Tulty wasn't sure if Skyler had been tricked.

"Keeping yourself closed off from the rest of us will only promote animosity." He frowned. "If your goal is as you've stated, even after all this time, does it not benefit you to take what alliances you can, instead of driving them away?"

"Your method of persuasion is ineffective." Hearing the rattle of chains, Tulty reflexively looked to ensure his claw was clear, even as Requiem continued. "We contain no ill will to you and the others of younger generation. The goal is always the same. The goal will always assert itself, in the end. I am patient."

Tulty sighed.

"Maybe once I would've understood you, but all I feel is pity. Do you not wish to see the Digital Worlds before they are nothing?"

"Sight is one such sense permitted to those of us contained with the Idea."

Tulty closed his eyes contemplatively. Ah, yes. The Idea. He was familiar, too— the Idea is what had spawned him as well, and yet...

"Do you believe we are limited by it?" he asked, listening to the rattling of his host's chains.

Green eyes met yellow eyes. Silence. Of course.

"Have you still not noticed how Homeostasis changes only to stay the same?" Tulty continued, "How then do we define ourselves, if that is the nature of their world? Are we not then a part of it, through that born of the Other, which yet craves stillness?"

"What do you remember of that which lived within you?" The vocal response was a surprise.

Tulty parsed the words. Most of his database had deteriorated into noise before he grew conscious. Nothing more than the shape of grief. Things that wanted to live on without having to change, over and over.

But a smaller section of his database... He spoke little of it to others. Even Archive was not privy to the whole extent of it.

"We were alone in Subspace, once," Requiem continued. He leaned towards Tulty, as close as he could reach in his direction. The shock at such animalistic paralanguage didn't stop Tulty from checking the distance of his claw perch. That didn't seem to bother Requiem. "We were alone, and a form diminutive yet stubborn pressed through into the dark alone, with naught but stolen light and pity to us, a broken wretch."

Tulty could pay no more mind to moving, matching the intensity of Requiem's stare now. Some element of shock pulled at them both. The sight of it on Requiem spurred unease into his digicore.

"You ask because you recall something before," Tulty said, "am I correct?"

"This indeed. Familiarity, nested in the one which connects our kin."

"I see." Tulty was stiff, all expectation for this conversation twisted.

"It was not us. It was not you. Yet it was, all the same."

"How do you figure?"

"One does not see the body but in parts from memory." Requiem's arm curled meaningfully towards Tulty. Red claws like stiletto knives pointed without hostility at him. "The plausibility of poor recollection is a triviality to be expected. It is memories given from the eyes of another that show us as we are."

"You are saying," Tulty whispered, "that Skyler remembers?"

"That which is shared is validated by files locked within them. And the body which was seen was neither that which you stand upon nor center of your digicore."

"Then what was it?" he asked, even as he suspected the answer.

"At once in one, it was both."