It is an older age of the digital world, governed by the raw elemental forces that offer purpose and home to the Digimon that resided here. This tale takes place across a single continent; one perhaps recognisable in shape, but in a healthier state, with nations spread out across its surface. Like many neighbours, they have their frictions. It is in the nature of Digimon to compete, after all. But right here, right now, there is a time of peace.
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In a vast armoured barricade to the south, the Fire Kingdom reside. An established military might born from the embers of an ancient monarchy, they have grown from strength to strength, and have become the first port of call for many a smaller nation to settle disputes and build links. The scale of the walls and the central fortress do little to belie the true complexity and efficiency of the mechanisms that keep this place running.
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While many of the inner workings of the fortress remain underground, far from prying eyes, the central fortress remains the hub of national visitations and grand ceremonies. Many a welcome, graduation, victory and memorial has been held here, and the rooms within are decorated with records of events and generals past. There is something mystical about this place; the congregation of every flame wielded by the Fire Forces, empowering and connecting them all. And it is the responsibility of the Fire General to maintain that connection, recognising its power and distributing it with a strong and just hand.
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The Northern Tribes consist of many decentralized locations spanning the entirety of the frozen north of the continent, overseen by the Silver Citadel and a few royal strongholds in the most windswept plains. There are all kinds of dwellings; hardened villages, underground stores and walled outposts. They maintain contact with one another, but the residents are frequently forced to be on the move due to the harsh conditions, so it's not uncommon to come across an empty outpost. Although, perhaps not one as ravaged and desolate as this one...
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Spanning the breadth of the continent, the rail terminals provide ways for even the most reclusive of villages to communicate and travel at breathtaking speed. With the Spokes Districts at their very centre, their origins are shrouded in speculation. All anybody can be sure of is that, somehow, they derive their power from the great force at the very centre of the Spokes, and from the mysterious metallic creatures that reside within their pillars.
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Secluded away in a northern corner of the continent, one needs to see the interior of the Spokes Districts to truly understand why they are called a wonder of the digital world. Housed within a temperate dome, the towering structures form a home for thousands of citizens, each district utterly resplendant and entirely unique. Recently, it's been rumoured that more of the structures than usual are beginning to tumble, and cracks are showing in the pristine exterior. In the outside world, they can be only rumours. Only the citizens that live here could speak to the truth of the place.
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Any nation with the history of the Spokes has its own resplendent wonders, and the capital building stands proudly at the centre. A shining beacon to the status the Sovereignty has held since its inception, and even further back, with the snaking carvings and shimmering panels a hallmark of the sacred beginnings of this structure. Now, it is the reception place for many an ambassador and dignitary throughout the digital world; displayed front and centre for all to admire.
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Away from the shine and resplendence of the districts above, the understorey of the Spokes is a mashup of splintered rods and half-collapsed structures, built up over many centuries. A hazardous and dismal place to make a living, and far out of sight of the many citizens above. But for those with nowhere else to go, there are places here to provide shelter, community, and cover from prying eyes. Places where they can heal, and make plans for the turbulent times to come.
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There are deep, ancient powers dotted around the digital world. Places and structures tied to the very foundations and elements that make up this chaotic world. Below the ornate spires and pristine panels of the capital building, lie the tunnels. Winding their way around and through and past one another, moving and shifting of their own accord...or the accord of someone attuned to their movements. And if one delves deep enough, they may find strange images left behind for a curious traveler. Heroes. Beasts. Cataclysms and events. Just waiting in the gloom for a witness.
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The Spokes have always had an archivist. For a place with such rich history, there has to be somebody to catalogue the achievements, losses, battles and turning points of this illustrious nation. The archive itself contains many relics and secrets too advanced for the lay Digimon to understand, but they nonetheless lie safe and protected within the mobile walls of metal beneath the capital. It is an endless library, a treasure trove, and the perfect hiding place for those with something to conceal.
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Sometimes diplomacy has its limits, and in that eventuality, the scoundrels and perpetrators may find themselves facing the Sovereignty directly, within the courthouse of the main capital. From their pillars they can stand, and witness, and hear all a defendent has to say. All four must be present for a trial to reach an end, for all four must give their verdict. And if their verdict is guilty, they are permitted to use the internal power of the Spokes itself to ensnare the accused within the deep, dark catacombs beneath.
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The power inherent within the Infernal Fortress permeates through every aspect of its structure. From the divine flames circling the Grand Hall, to the deep underground armouries and laboratories where the most powerful and intelligent can put it to use. Especially so the deeper you go, closer to the roots of Yggdrasil and the forces that make up the world. And if you delve deeper still, you may hear screaming.
