Five years have passed since you were summoned to the Digital World, a parallel realm carved from the very data of Earth's global network. A world of surreal beauty, where continents, seas, and mountains can change shape, malleable under a sufficiently powerful will. That same volatile nature made it a coveted prize for unscrupulous humans eager to subjugate its inhabitants, the Digital Creatures, or Digimon. You, however, decided to raise your sword as their defender.

Currently, you walk through a valley of green meadows that stretch into the horizon. The sky is a vault of perfect blue, dotted with cottony clouds that drift lazily by. It is a serene day, a balm attempting to wash away the memories of the war unleashed two years ago. Obstinate humans forced a DNA Digivolution, giving birth to MasterMon, a being of colossal power and, due to that manipulation, a mind plunged into a destructive frenzy. The catastrophe took a bitter toll on lives, both Digimon and human. Your crowning moment came when you forged a digital bond with her, risking your very existence in a forced De-Digivolution that shattered her fused form. Now, you enjoy this temporary peace, knowing it's a respite, not the end. But there's a constant reminder of that event, a consequence that upends your daily life.

Suddenly, a sharp voice, laced with ice and sarcasm, shatters the tranquility. "Hey, chicken-winged sanctimonious woman. Do you even know the term 'walk'? You don't have to fly every damn second as if stepping on the ground will burn your holy heels."

It's Lady Devimon. She advances with a mixture of feline grace and restrained aggression. Her long platinum-blonde hair, so similar to a waterfall of light, flutters in the wind, in violent contrast to her dark essence. She wears a tight black leather suit that molds every curve of her slender, voluptuous figure, with strategic tears revealing her pale skin. Dark chains and evil spirits crawl and float around her body, whispering sinister promises. Two large bat-like wings emerge from her back, functioning as an ominous cloak. A black leather mask covers the upper half of her face, revealing a sensual mouth from which a sharp fang protrudes, and eyes that glow a deep, defiant red.

Floating serenely a few feet above the ground, Angewomon responds with a calmness that fails to hide a hint of offense. "Always so disrespectful, sister. And to correct you, I am an Angel. One with infinite patience, to endure the outbursts of someone like you."

She is the living antithesis of her counterpart. Her beauty is ethereal, dressed in a pristine white gown that accentuates her toned and noble figure. Eight majestic white-feathered wings extend from her back, proclaiming her high rank as an Angel Digimon. On her left ankle glitters a Sacred Ring, a symbol of her divine status. A silver helmet obscures the upper part of her face, from forehead to nose, focusing attention on her serene lips and the determination emanating from her posture. Her hair, as platinum blonde as Lady Devimon's, seems to catch the sunlight, shining with a heavenly purity.

You simply let out a deep sigh. This is the daily reminder of your greatest feat and, at times, you feel, your greatest damnation. When you undid MasterMon, her essence didn't dissipate, but rather fractured into two diametrically opposed beings: Angewomon and Lady Devimon. Both swore loyalty to you that day, a pact forged in the catharsis of averted destruction. 2 Digimon incarnated as two sisters who hate each other with every fiber of their being, but who, to your fortune and despair, fight as a team with terrifyingly perfect synchronicity.