Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Remember where you need to go?" Mom asked me again for the third time.

"Yeah, down the road to the crossroads, then follow the sign with the school name until I see the big brick building. You even wrote it all down."

"I can't help but worry, you know? Your dad keeps saying it's way safer here than in America, but I still can't help it. My baby boy's going out all on his own!"

"I can take care of myself."

"Are you really sure you don't want me to follow you there? At least for your first day?"

"All the other kids go to school by themselves. I don't wanna be the weird kid who gets babied to school by his mom."

"Fine, fine. Just stay safe, alright? Make sure you have your phone and call me when you reach school, okay?"

"I'll text you. Bye, Mom!"

"Jeez, just let me know, okay!? See you later!"

Even though this was my third time walking to school—twice because Mom insisted on practicing the route—I still wasn't used to the neighborhood. Everything felt peaceful. No cars speeding by, just quiet streets lined with cozy houses. Most didn't even have front lawns, just tidy gardens and bikes parked neatly by the doors. I actually felt safe walking alone, something I'd never say back home.

Once I reached the crossroads, traffic picked up a bit, but even then, it was nothing compared to what I was used to. Crowds of people walked toward the station, while others in the same uniform as mine headed toward the school.

Uniforms. Still weird to me. Back home, only fancy private schools had them, but here everyone wore one. Another thing to get used to, I guess. The list keeps growing the longer I'm here. And with Dad saying this move was "more permanent than we think," I didn't have much of a choice.

At least I knew Pokémon. Hopefully, that was enough to connect me with the locals. That, and my… questionable Japanese.

Finally, I reached the school gates. A woman in a neat blazer stood there, smiling and greeting students as they entered. I recognized her from when the principal introduced me last week.

"Ah, Jordan-san, yes? You made it on time—that's good!"

I guess being a foreign kid made it easy to spot. Still, the students seemed to like her—almost everyone greeted her with a cheerful "Good morning."

"Just wait with me here until I close the gate, okay?"

"Yeah, no problem… teacher."

"You can call me Ms. Yumi."

After a few minutes of standing awkwardly by the gate, trying not to look too obvious while everyone stared at me, she finally closed it and led me inside.

"Jordan, your Japanese is much better than we expected. Did you study it back in America?"

"My dad really likes Japan. So most of what I watched growing up was in Japanese."

She smiled and explained a few things about the school as we walked to the teacher's office.

"Okay, I need to grab some papers for today's class meeting. Just wait outside for a bit, alright?"

Standing outside the teacher's room made me feel like I was in trouble already. I tried to look casual, but a few teachers passed by, giving me curious glances. Being the new foreign student meant everyone noticed you, whether you wanted them to or not.

Before I could overthink it, Ms. Yumi came back out and led me to my classroom.

Standing at the front of the class felt like being on stage. Everyone went silent. Too silent.

I introduced myself in my best Japanese, bowed awkwardly, and made my way to the only empty seat—by the window. Classic anime placement, I guess.

Class passed by faster than I expected. Most of the lessons were things I already knew thanks to Mom's prep before we moved. When the bell rang, the silence instantly shattered. Conversations exploded all around me—too fast for me to follow.

I was wondering where to eat my lunch when someone bolted up to my desk.

"Hey hey hey! You play Digimon?!"

The boy's eyes practically sparkled. His energy hit me like a gust of wind. He was shorter than me, with messy dark hair that stuck up in every direction and a grin that seemed permanently fixed on his face.

"Uh, hold on, my Japanese isn't that good yet. Maybe slow down a bit?"

"Oh! Sorry, sorry! You know Digimon? Di-gi-mon!"

"'Mon'? Like Pokémon?"

"No, not Pokémon! Digimon! You've never played Digimon?!"

"Don't think I've ever heard of it. Yellow mouse with electricity?"

"No no no! Yellow dinosaur! Ahhh, don't tell me they don't have Digimon overseas?! That's such a bummer! I thought maybe the foreigner would have some cool foreign Digimon I could see!"

"Sorry to burst your bubble."

"Oh, like Bubble Blow? Haha, nice one!"

"…Sure. So, what is Digimon?"

He gasped dramatically. "You really don't know? That's unacceptable! We must fix this right away!"

Before I could react, he glanced at the clock behind me and froze.

"Wait no! I'm gonna miss the super special ultimate yakitori bun! Okay, I'll see you after school, got it?! We'll be in classroom 3-10!"

And just like that, he bolted out of the room.

I blinked. Twice.

A classmate nearby chuckled. "So you've been targeted by the Digimon Otaku, huh? Tough luck, but I guess it's because you're new."

"Is he… famous or something? For being a Digimon fan?"

"Yeah, Kenji's a total Digimon maniac. Plays it during class, gets scolded constantly, but no one can stop him. He's part of the after-school study support club—the one for students who the teachers think won't pass the final exams on their own."

"Wait, so he just invited me to join… a tutoring class?"

"'Tutoring class,' huh? That's one way to put it. From what I've heard, they just play games all day."

"And the teachers are okay with that?"

He shrugged. "The teacher in charge is kind of laid-back. Doesn't mind as long as they show up. Anyway, if you don't want Kenji bugging you every morning, you might wanna check it out once. Everyone in class has been dragged into his gaming session at least once."

"What do you mean by bugging?"

"Like—he'll just keep asking you until you give up. The record's fourteen days. Yusuke from Class B managed that."

"…Right. Thanks for the heads-up."

"No worries. You seem chill anyway. If you've got no one to eat lunch with, come find my group. See ya."

As I stared down at my packed lunch, I couldn't help wondering what Digimon even was. A game? A show? Something popular in Japan? Maybe it was just his obsession.

Still… he went out of his way to invite me. It'd feel rude to blow him off.

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

After school, the halls emptied faster than I expected. It was quiet—eerily quiet. No gossiping, no yelling. Just the sound of my shoes echoing against the linoleum floor as I wandered the halls trying to find room 3-10.

Finally, at the end of the third-floor corridor, I found it. The door had a handwritten sign taped to it: "Study Support Club" with a little doodle of what I assumed was supposed to be a dinosaur.

I could already hear voices from behind the door—energetic, overlapping, alive.

I took a deep breath and slid it open.

"Hey! You actually came!" Kenji shouted, his grin wide enough to make me forget how tired I was from the first day.

There were four other students scattered around the room, each hunched over a chunky, plastic-looking handheld console that I didn't recognize. The sound of beeps, battle cries, and digital roars filled the air like some kind of secret arcade.

"Guys, this is the new kid I told you about!" Kenji said, waving me over enthusiastically. "He hasn't played Digimon before, but we'll fix that in no time!"

The others looked up briefly.

A tall boy near the window with neat hair and calm posture gave a polite nod. "Welcome. I'm Daichi."

A girl with long hair and gentle eyes smiled warmly. "I'm Aoi. Don't let Kenji overwhelm you—he does that to everyone."

Another girl with sharp eyes and glasses barely glanced up from her screen. "Mei. If you have questions about game mechanics, ask me. If you want pointless enthusiasm, ask Kenji."

The last one, a boy with messy hair who looked half-asleep, waved lazily. "Riku. Welcome to the 'Study Support Club.' Don't expect to get any actual studying done."

"Is this really supposed to be a study group?" I asked, setting my bag down awkwardly near a desk.

"Technically," Daichi said with a slight smile. "We're supposed to be improving our grades. But our advisor is… lenient."

"Plus," Riku added, "we are studying. Just… Digital Monsters instead of actual subjects."

Kenji rummaged through a box at the corner of the room and pulled out one of the consoles. "Here! This one's a spare. Don't worry, it still works. Mostly."

I took it carefully, feeling its worn light blue plastic. It had a small screen with two buttons on either side and a couple more on the face.

"So, uh… what do I even do?"

Kenji's eyes lit up like I'd just asked the meaning of life. "That's the spirit! Okay, so first, you raise your partner Digimon—it's like your buddy. Then you train it, battle with it, and help it evolve. It's way cooler than Pokémon because you actually bond with them, not just catch 'em all."

"Here," Aoi said, standing up and walking over. "Let me show you the basics. Kenji will just confuse you."

"Hey! I'm a great teacher!"

"You told the last person to 'just feel the bond with your heart,'" Mei said flatly. "That's not a tutorial."

As Aoi patiently walked me through the menus, I noticed how naturally they all interacted. Kenji's boundless energy, Daichi's steady presence, Mei's sharp commentary, Aoi's gentle guidance, and Riku's laid-back humor—they fit together like puzzle pieces.

"You've just joined the weirdest club in the school," Aoi said with a smile as my borrowed console flickered to life with a pixelated egg on the screen.

"Guess I'm starting to see that," I replied.

Kenji raised his console high like a general leading a charge. "Alright everyone! New member initiation session! Let's show him what Digimon is all about!"

The others groaned good-naturedly but gathered around, their devices linking together in some kind of local multiplayer setup.

As the egg on my screen began to crack, revealing a small, blob-like creature with big eyes, I couldn't help but smile.

These five were strange, enthusiastic, and completely absorbed in this weird game. But there was something genuine about them—something warm and welcoming that made the awkwardness of being the new kid fade away.

"Alright," I said. "Let's see what this Digimon thing's about."

Kenji grinned and clapped me on the shoulder. "That's what I like to hear! Welcome to the team, Jordan!"

Team, I thought as I looked around at their smiling faces. Yeah. I could get used to that.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks blurred together in a surprisingly comfortable routine.

Wake up. Walk to school. Sit by the window. Struggle through Japanese class. Survive lunch. Endure afternoon lessons. Then, almost like clockwork, I’d find myself walking up to the third floor, sliding open the door to room 3-10, and diving back into the weird, wonderful world of Digimon.

It was strange how quickly it became normal.

“Jordan! You’re late!” Kenji shouted the moment I stepped through the door one afternoon, about three weeks into the term.

“School literally just ended five minutes ago,” I said, dropping my bag by my usual desk near the window.

“Exactly! Five whole minutes wasted! Your Agumon isn’t going to train itself!”

I pulled out my Digivice—the light blue one Kenji had lent me that first day, which had somehow become mine by unspoken agreement—and checked the screen. My little yellow dino looked back at me with pixelated contentment.

“He looks fine to me.”

“‘Fine’ isn’t good enough!” Kenji declared, pointing dramatically. “We’ve got the inter-school tournament in two weeks! You need to get him to Champion level at minimum!”

“He’s working on it,” I said defensively. “I’ve been training him every day.”

“Training, or just feeding him and letting him sleep?” Mei asked without looking up from her own device, fingers moving rapidly across the buttons.

“…Both?”

Riku snorted from his spot by the window. “Mei’s got you figured out already.”

“Look, I’m trying, okay? This stuff is harder than it looks. I didn’t expect evolving to take this long”

“That’s why you need the notebook!” Kenji said, spinning around to rummage through a pile of papers on the teacher’s desk.

“The what now?”

“The Digimon Master Guide,” Aoi explained, looking up from her own device with a patient smile. “We’ve been working on it for about a year now. It’s got evolution charts, training tips, battle strategies, that kind of thing.”

“More like I’ve been working on it,” Mei corrected. “You all just doodle in the margins.”

“Hey, my doodles are helpful!” Kenji protested. “They show personality!”

“They show stick figures fighting,” Daichi said, his tone dry but amused.

“Exactly! Fighting strategies!”

I watched them banter, feeling that same warm sense of belonging I’d been feeling more and more lately. It was nice. Back home, I’d had friends, sure, but there was always this distance—the knowledge that we’d probably drift apart after school. Here, with these five, it felt different. More solid, somehow.

“Found it!” Kenji emerged from the pile triumphantly, holding up a thick notebook with a Digimon sticker on the cover—slightly worn and definitely well-used.

He dropped it on my desk with a heavy thunk.

“Whoa.” I flipped it open. The pages were filled with neat handwriting (probably Mei’s), diagrams and charts (definitely Mei’s), and yes, plenty of enthusiastic doodles in the margins (obviously Kenji’s). There were tabs, color-coding, even little sticky notes with additional observations.

“This is… really detailed.”

“Of course it is,” Mei said, a hint of pride in her voice. “If you’re going to do something, do it properly.”

“Mei’s a perfectionist,” Riku explained. “But in this case, it’s useful.”

I flipped through more pages, genuinely impressed. “You guys made all this yourselves?”

“Well, we had to,” Daichi said. “The game manuals are pretty barebones. If you want to really understand the mechanics, you have to experiment and document everything.”

“Plus,” Aoi added, “it’s more fun when we figure things out together.”

“Speaking of together,” Kenji said, his energy somehow ramping up even higher, “we should do a group training session! All six of us! It’ll be way more efficient!”

“Since when are you concerned about efficiency?” Mei asked.

“Since Jordan’s Agumon needs to evolve before the tournament, obviously!”

“You know,” I said, still looking through the notebook, “I’m starting to think you’re more invested in my Digimon than I am.”

“Someone has to be! You treat him like a pet!”

“He kind of is a pet, isn’t he?”

The room erupted in protests.

“He’s not a PET!” Kenji looked genuinely offended.

“He’s your partner,” Aoi said gently but firmly. 

“There’s a difference.”

“A pet is something you own,” Daichi explained. “A partner is someone who fights alongside you.”

“The bond matters,” Riku added. “That’s the whole point of the game.”

Even Mei looked up from her screen. “The evolution mechanics are directly tied to the care and attention you give them. It’s not just feeding stats. It’s about connection.”

I blinked, surprised by how serious they all suddenly were. “Okay, okay. I get it. Partner, not pet. My bad.”

Kenji studied me for a moment, then his grin returned. “You’ll understand once he evolves. The first time your partner Digivolves because of you… it’s pretty cool.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so! Now come on, let’s link up and do some team training!”

The next hour was controlled chaos.

All six of us sat in a rough circle, devices in hand, connected through some kind of local multiplayer feature I didn’t fully understand. Apparently, training your Digimon together made them stronger faster—or at least that’s what Kenji insisted, and no one contradicted him.

“Okay, Jordan, your Agumon should battle my Greymon,” Kenji said. “It’ll give him experience.”

“Won’t your Agumon just destroy him?”

“Nah, I’ll hold back. Probably.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“Stop overthinking it!” Kenji said. “Just trust your partner!”

I looked down at my screen. Agumon looked back at me with those big, pixelated eyes.

Alright, buddy. Let’s give this a shot.

The battle started, and immediately I understood why Kenji loved this game so much. It wasn’t like Pokémon, where you just selected moves from a menu. This required timing, reading your opponent, and yeah—trusting that your partner would respond to your commands.

Agumon bounced around on the screen, dodging Greymon’s attacks with surprising agility.

“Nice!” Kenji called out. “See? He’s reading your movements!”

“I’m not moving, though.”

“You’re pressing buttons, aren’t you? That’s moving! He can feel your intent!”

I didn’t really understand what Kenji meant, but something was definitely happening. Agumon seemed more responsive than usual, more energetic. When I pressed the attack button, he struck with more force than I’d seen before.

“His friendship points are going up,” Mei observed, watching her own screen where stats were apparently being tracked. “The team training is working.”

“Told you!” Kenji said triumphantly.

The battle continued, and even though Agumon didn’t win—Greymon was way too strong—I could see the improvement. By the end, my little orange dino started glowing with energy.

Then my screen flashed.

Agumon was glowing brighter now, pulsing with light. 

The device vibrated in my hands.

“Whoa, check it out!” Kenji leaned over, his eyes wide. “He’s about to—”

The light intensified, and Agumon’s shape began to change. Growing larger, flames erupting around his body, his form becoming more humanoid.

“Agumon, digivolve to… Meramon!”

When the light faded, a figure wreathed in flames stood on my screen where the small dinosaur had been. He was taller, more powerful, his entire body burning with pixelated fire.

For a moment, I just stared.

“Yes!” Kenji pumped his fist in the air. “Champion level! How does it feel?”

I looked at the burning fighter on my screen—my partner, who’d just evolved because of our bond—and felt a weird surge of pride and excitement.

“Pretty cool, actually.”

“Told you!” Kenji grinned so wide I thought his face might split. “Now you’re definitely ready for the tournament!”

“Congratulations,” Daichi said with an approving nod.

“Meramon, huh?” Mei looked thoughtful, making a note on her own device. “Interesting evolution path. Fire-type. Good offensive capabilities but vulnerable to water and ice attacks. If you got that evolution line you must have made a care mistake somewhere…”

“Always with the analysis,” Riku said with a laugh.

“Good job,” Aoi said warmly. “Your bond is definitely getting stronger.”

Riku gave a lazy thumbs up. “Welcome to Champion level. Now the real game begins.”

“I think… I’m starting to get it,” I admitted.

“Excellent!” Kenji pumped his fist. “That means you’re ready for the advanced techniques!”

“There are advanced techniques?”

“So many advanced techniques,” Riku said with a laugh. “Welcome to the deep end.”

“You’ll get to hear all about the theories Mei’s been cooking up” Daichi said with a smile

“All of which are backed up by actual data, unlike some of our other theories” Mei said as she made a side eye towards Kenji

“Come on, surely they are unlocking some crazy cool evolution behind Numemon!”

“There’s one that makes sure your digimon stays as happy as possible!” Aoi mentioned with a big smile on her face.

We trained for another hour, the room filled with the sounds of digital battles, button mashing, and constant commentary from Kenji about strategy and bond strength and evolution requirements.

It should have been overwhelming, but it wasn’t. It was… fun. Really fun.

“Alright,” Mei announced suddenly, standing up and stretching. “I need to get home. My mom’s making dinner early tonight.”

“Yeah, I should probably head out too,” Daichi said, checking his watch. “It’s getting late.”

One by one, the others started packing up. Riku yawned and made some comment about a family thing. Aoi mentioned homework she’d been putting off.

Soon it was just me and Kenji left in the room.

“You heading out?” he asked, still focused on his Digivice.

“In a minute.” I was looking at the notebook again, flipping through pages. “Can I borrow this? I want to study the evolution charts.”

Kenji looked up, surprised. Then his face split into the biggest grin I’d seen yet. “Dude. Yes. Absolutely. Welcome to the Digimon deep lore!”

“I’m just trying to figure out what comes after Meramon.”

“That’s how it starts,” he said knowingly. “Next thing you know, you’re memorizing type advantages and calculating optimal training schedules.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Nah, I just wing it.” He laughed. “But Mei does. It’s why her Tentomon is so strong.”

I closed the notebook carefully. “Thanks for this. And for, you know, inviting me to the club in the first place.”

Kenji shrugged, but he looked genuinely happy. “You’re fun to play with. Plus, you actually listen when people explain things, which is more than I can say for some people.” He paused. “You settling in okay? Like, in general?”

The question caught me off guard. “Yeah, I think so. It’s still weird being in a different country and everything, but… it’s not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

“Good. That’s good.” He stood up and grabbed his bag. “You know, the six of us—well, five before you showed up—we’re kind of a weird group. Not a lot of people get the whole Digimon obsession.”

“I’m starting to.”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “Yeah, I think you are. Come on, let’s get out of here before they lock us in.”

We walked out together, Kenji chattering about tournament strategies and evolution predictions. As we reached the school gates, he waved goodbye and headed off in one direction while I went the other.

The notebook felt heavy in my bag—not just physically, but like it meant something. Like I was carrying a piece of something important.

A whole year’s worth of work, I thought. All of them figuring this stuff out together.

And now I was part of it.

That night, I sat at my desk with the notebook open in front of me, my Digivice next to it.

Meramon was sleeping on the screen, his fiery body rising and falling with pixelated breaths.

I started reading through the evolution charts, trying to understand the requirements. Friendship points, battle experience, training stats—it was way more complicated than I’d thought.

But as I read, I started noticing little things in the margins.

“Kenji’s Agumon evolved during a tough battle. His determination made the difference!” - Aoi

“Riku’s Gabumon took three weeks to evolve. Patience is important.” - Daichi

“My Tentomon evolved exactly when the stats indicated he would. Predictable but satisfying.” - Mei

There were notes about failures too. Times when evolutions went wrong or Digimon got sick from overtraining. But even those entries had little encouraging messages from the others.

“Don’t worry, Mei! We’ll figure it out together!” - Kenji

“Failed evolution just means we need more data. Try again tomorrow.” - Daichi

This wasn’t just a game guide. It was a record of their friendship, their time together, their shared experiences.

I picked up a pencil and carefully wrote in one of the blank spaces at the bottom of a page:

“Jordan’s Meramon - Day 21. Evolved from Agumon today during group training. Everyone says it’s because of the bond. I think they might be right. Fire-type, apparently. Thanks to everyone for the help.”

I stared at the words for a moment, then smiled.

Yeah. I was definitely part of this now.

Chapter Text

The club room door was locked.

That was the first thing that felt wrong.

I stood in the third-floor hallway, hand on the door handle of room 3-10, frowning at the little metal latch that refused to budge. The handwritten "Study Support Club" sign still hung there, Kenji's dinosaur doodle smiling up at me like always.

But the door wouldn't open.

Weird.

I checked my phone. 3:47 PM. School had ended seventeen minutes ago. Usually, by the time I made it up here, the sounds of digital battles and Kenji's enthusiastic commentary would already be spilling into the hallway.

Today, there was only silence.

I knocked. "Hey, anyone in there?"

Nothing.

I pressed my ear to the door. No beeps, no voices, no sounds of life.

Maybe they're running late?

I slid down the wall next to the door, pulled out my Digivice, and started a training session with Meramon. The little fire fighter bounced around the screen, throwing pixelated punches at a training dummy.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

My phone buzzed. A message from Mom asking when I'd be home for dinner. I replied with a vague "soon" and went back to waiting.

Fifteen minutes.

Twenty.

The hallway remained empty. The door stayed locked.

At 4:30, I finally stood up and walked back downstairs, telling myself they'd probably just had to leave early for some reason. Family stuff. Last-minute plans. Something.

But a small knot of unease had formed in my stomach.

They always told me if they couldn't make it.

Always.

"Has anyone seen Kenji?"

Ms. Yumi stood at the front of the classroom the next morning, her usual warm smile replaced with a concerned frown. "He didn't come home last night. His parents called the school this morning."

The classroom went silent.

"If anyone knows anything—if he mentioned going somewhere, or if you saw him after school yesterday—please come talk to me."

My hand shot up before I even realized I was doing it. "Ms. Yumi, the others in his club—Daichi, Aoi, Mei, and Riku. Are they here?"

She checked her attendance sheet, and I watched her expression shift from concerned to alarmed.

"No. They're all absent." She looked up at the class. "Did anyone see any of them yesterday after school?"

Silence.

No one had seen them.

By lunchtime, the rumors had started.

"I heard they ran away together."

"No way, that's five students. You don't just run away as a group."

"Maybe it's a prank? Like, they're hiding somewhere?"

"Kenji's parents filed a police report. That's not a prank."

I sat at my desk, Digivice in hand, staring at Meramon's idle animation. The little fire fighter just stood there, waiting for commands that felt impossible to give right now.

Where are they?

The police came that afternoon.

Two officers in neat uniforms, speaking with the principal in hushed tones. Then they started interviewing students—anyone who knew the five missing kids.

When they got to me, I was led to an empty classroom. One officer—older, with graying hair and tired eyes—sat across from me while the other took notes.

"You're Jordan, correct? The transfer student?"

"Yes."

"We understand you were part of their after-school club. When did you last see them?"

"Two days ago. Tuesday. We had club after school like normal."

"And everything seemed fine? No one mentioned going anywhere, no strange behavior?"

I shook my head. "No, everything was normal. We just played games and trained our Digimon. Then everyone went home."

"Digimon?"

I held up the Digivice. "It's a game. That's what the club does—we play together."

The detective's expression softened slightly. "I see. And yesterday—Wednesday—you went to the club room but they weren't there?"

"The door was locked. I waited, but no one showed up."

"Did they have somewhere else they might have gone? Another location they mentioned?"

"No. We always met in room 3-10."

The detective made a note, then looked at me carefully. "Jordan, this is important. Did any of them seem upset recently? Troubled? Did they mention any problems at home, or with school, or with each other?"

I thought about it—really thought about it. Kenji's boundless energy, Aoi's gentle smiles, Daichi's steady presence, Mei's sharp observations, Riku's lazy humor.

"No," I said finally. "They seemed happy. They all got along really well."

The detective nodded slowly, but I could see the worry in his eyes.

Five students didn't just vanish into thin air.

The first week was chaos.

Police searched everywhere—the school, the surrounding neighborhoods, nearby parks, train stations. They interviewed everyone who knew the five. Teachers, classmates, family members.

Nothing.

No one had seen them leave. No one had seen them anywhere.

It was like they'd simply stopped existing the moment school ended that Tuesday.

Search parties formed. Volunteers combed through the woods near the school. Divers checked the river. Dogs tracked scents that led nowhere.

The parents appeared on the news, pleading for information. I saw Kenji's mom crying on TV, begging for her son to come home.

I couldn't watch after that.

The club advisor finally appeared a week after the disappearance.

I'd seen him before—the older teacher who'd walked past me that first day outside the teacher's office.

Now I knew why he'd looked the way he did.

He found me in the hallway after school, his face haggard and worn. "Jordan, right? You're the American student who joined their club."

"Yeah."

"I'm Mr. Takeshi. I'm... I was their advisor."

Was. Past tense.

"The police asked me about the club," he continued, his voice hollow. "I told them I hadn't been checking in as much as I should have. That I'd been... distant."

He looked down at his hands.

"I should have been there. Should have been paying attention. If I had..." His voice cracked. "If I'd just been doing my job..."

"It's not your fault," I said, even though I didn't know if that was true.

"Isn't it?" He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. "Five students under my supervision just vanished, and I didn't even notice they were gone until the next day."

He walked away before I could say anything else, shoulders slumped under a weight I couldn't see.

After two weeks, the active search scaled back.

After a month, the news coverage stopped.

After three months, the missing posters started to fade and peel from telephone poles.

The detective—his name was Detective Shimizu—still called me sometimes. Asked if I'd remembered anything new, if I'd heard anything.

I never had anything to tell him.

Room 3-10 was cleared out. The desks removed, the club officially disbanded. The handwritten sign disappeared from the door.

Their seats in the classroom stayed empty for the rest of the year.

Six years passed.

I finished junior high, somehow. Those last two years felt like walking through fog—going through the motions while five empty seats reminded me every day of what was missing.

High school was better, in some ways. New building, new classmates, new teachers who didn't know about the disappearance. But Mr. Takeshi had quit teaching after that year, and he'd stayed in touch. Checked in on me. Helped me study. When it came time to apply to universities, he helped me get a scholarship.

"You're a good kid, Jordan," he'd said. "Don't let this define your whole life."

But how could it not?

I stayed in Japan. Dad's work kept us here, but honestly, I didn't want to leave anyway. Leaving felt like giving up, like admitting they were really gone forever.

Detective Shimizu still called, once every few months. The case was officially cold now, but he hadn't closed it. Said he couldn't, not until he had answers.

"Six years," he said once, when we met for coffee near my university campus. "That's longer than most missing persons cases stay active. But something about this one... five kids, all at once, no trace. It doesn't add up."

"Do you think they're still alive?" I asked.

He was quiet for a long moment. "I want to believe they are. But statistically..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Jordan. I wish I had better news."

I still had the Digivice. Still had the notebook.

The Digivice had stayed with me through everything—junior high, high school, now university. I'd kept playing, kept training. Meramon had evolved into SkullMeramon, then finally into Boltmon. The massive Cyborg creature was about as far from that little Koromon as you could get, but the bond was still there.

On quiet nights in my dorm room, I'd open the notebook and read through the entries—their handwriting, their doodles, their shared discoveries. A year's worth of friendship preserved in ink and paper.

"Kenji's Agumon evolved during a tough battle. His determination made the difference!" - Aoi

"Failed evolution just means we need more data. Try again tomorrow." - Mei

"Don't worry, Mei! We'll figure it out together!" - Kenji

Sometimes I'd add my own entries, even though there was no one to share them with anymore.

"Jordan's Boltmon - Day 2,190. Still training. Still waiting. Still hoping."

The pages had grown yellowed at the edges. Some of the sticky notes had lost their adhesion and had to be taped down. But I kept it safe, kept it close.

It was all I had left of them.

It was a Saturday night, six years and two months after the disappearance.

I sat at my desk, university textbooks pushed aside, the Digivice glowing softly in the dim light of my dorm room. I'd been working through the game again—replaying all the scenarios, following all the strategies from the notebook.

It felt like the only connection I had left to them.

One more battle, I thought. Then I'll call it a night.

Boltmon faced off against a corrupted virus-type Digimon in the final scenario. The battle was tough—the kind Kenji would have loved, all split-second timing and risk-taking moves.

When Boltmon landed the finishing blow with a devastating Tomahawk Steiner, the screen flashed.

CONGRATULATIONS! SCENARIO COMPLETE!

I blinked. That was it. The final scenario. I'd beaten the whole game.

Six years. It had taken me six years to complete what they'd probably have finished in months if they'd still been here.

Then the screen flickered.

Text appeared that I'd never seen before:

YOU HAVE PROVEN YOUR BOND. YOU HAVE SHOWN YOUR DETERMINATION. THE TIME HAS COME.

My heart jumped.

WILL YOU ANSWER THE CALL?

Two options appeared: [YES] or [NO]

My thumb hovered over the buttons, mind racing. This had to be some kind of easter egg, right? A secret ending?

But something about it felt different. Felt real.

I pressed [YES].

The screen went white.

My dorm room vanished.

I was falling—or floating? It was hard to tell. White light surrounded me, warm and weightless.

Then, suddenly, I wasn't falling anymore.

I was sitting.

I blinked, disoriented. I was in a room—was it a room? The white walls seemed to shift when I wasn't looking directly at them. The furniture looked real but felt wrong, like a memory of furniture rather than the thing itself. A large window showed... nothing. Just endless white light that hurt to look at.

Across from me, at a small tea table, sat a young girl.

She couldn't have been more than ten years old, with long silver hair and bright eyes that were the wrong color—or maybe all colors at once, shifting too fast to track. She wore a simple white dress that didn't move with her body, like it was painted on reality.

She was pouring tea from a delicate porcelain pot, but the liquid that came out wasn't liquid. It was... something else. Flowing data? Crystallized light? It hurt my brain to look at it directly.

"Hello, Jordan," she said, her voice clear and calm but slightly off—like multiple voices speaking in perfect unison, or one voice played through too many speakers at once.

My mouth felt dry. "Who... where am I?"

"Between." She set down the teapot. The sound it made hitting the table was wrong—too many echoes, or not enough, I couldn't tell. "Between here and there. Between is and was. Between you and them."

"I don't understand."

"Understanding comes later. Or earlier. Time is..." She tilted her head at an angle that was almost but not quite natural. "...negotiable, in this space."

I tried to stand. Couldn't. My body felt like it was both sitting and standing, both heavy and weightless.

"Please," she said, gesturing to the seat I was already in. "We have much to discuss. Or perhaps we've already discussed it. The order is less important than the outcome."

"What's happening to me?"

"You answered the call." She looked at me with those impossible eyes. "Or perhaps the call answered you. The directionality is unclear from where I stand."

"The... the message on my Digivice?"

"A window. A door. A bridge." She picked up a teacup—or it was already in her hand, had it always been there?—and took a sip. "You completed the trial. Six years, two months, seventeen days, four hours, thirty-three minutes. Longer than anticipated. Shorter than feared."

"The game? You mean the game?"

"Games are patterns. Patterns are tests. Tests reveal truth." She set the cup down—or it vanished, or I stopped being able to perceive it. "You kept their fragments alive. Now their wholes are dying. Paradox. Beautiful. Tragic. Necessary."

My head was starting to hurt. "Who are you?"

"I am called Yggdrasil." When she spoke her name, the room rippled like water. "I am the root. The protocol. The system. I maintain what remains. I balance what cannot be balanced. I persist."

"You're... an AI? A program?"

"I am the tree whose roots touch all things. I am the code beneath the code. I am—" She stopped, and for the first time seemed almost frustrated. "Your language is insufficient. Your concepts are too small. But I wear this shape—" she gestured to her child-form "—so you can perceive without breaking."

The word "breaking" echoed in ways that made my teeth ache.

"What do you want from me?"

"Want?" She tilted her head the other direction. "I do not want. I calculate. I determine. I conclude." A pause. "But if I could want... I would want you to save them."

"Save who? The five? Kenji, Aoi, Daichi, Mei, Riku?"

"The fragments that wear those names, yes." She waved her hand, and images appeared in the air—but they weren't images, they were... windows? Glimpses? I could somehow see through them into other places, other moments.

Kenji, older now, standing before an army. Behind him loomed something massive and dark—a shadow that felt like death itself, like the concept of ending given form.

"The one who burned too bright now burns others," Yggdrasil said, her voice distant. "Courage became consumption."

Daichi in white and gold robes, surrounded by angels with too many wings. His expression was cold, zealous, absolute.

"The steady stone became unmovable. Reliability became rigidity. He will not bend. He will only break."

Mei in a mechanical facility, her eyes empty as she worked on something huge and terrible—metal and flesh and data fused into a wrongness that made my stomach turn.

"She who sought to understand now seeks only to control. Knowledge without wisdom. Logic without heart."

Aoi in a frozen palace, looking so small and hollow, surrounded by endless ice.

"She who felt everything now feels nothing. Kindness became numbness. She hides while the world burns."

Riku... Riku walking alone through a wasteland, barely more than a ghost. Something walked with him—small, childlike, but wrong.

"He who connected is now dissolving. Friendship became dependence, dependence became void. Soon he will be less than data. Soon he will be gone."

The images faded, leaving afterimages burned into my vision.

"No," I whispered. "That's not... they can't be..."

"They are. They were. They will continue to be unless interrupted." Yggdrasil looked at me with ancient eyes in a child's face. "I brought them to save the Digital World from corruption. They succeeded. And in succeeding, they became corrupted. Paradox. Beautiful. Tragic. Unsustainable."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because they do not listen to me anymore. Because I am the system and they have rejected the system. Because I calculated seven hundred forty-three thousand, two hundred sixteen possible interventions and in seven hundred forty-three thousand, two hundred fifteen of them, the Digital World ends." She leaned forward. "You are intervention seven hundred forty-three thousand, two hundred sixteen."

"I'm just... I'm nobody. I wasn't even there when they disappeared."

"You were excluded. The excluded have perspective. The excluded are not amplified. The excluded can see what the chosen cannot." She pushed something across the table.

An egg. But not—it was too perfect, too real, like the concept of egg given physical form. It pulsed with warmth and light and something I didn't have words for.

"If you accept, you will go to the Digital World. This partner will be born with you. A new beginning. Unburdened by the past six years. Unburdened by my mistakes."

I stared at the egg, then back at her. "Can I save them?"

She was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, sadder, more human.

"I do not know." For the first time, she sounded uncertain. "They may be too deep. Too far. Too gone. But you are the only variable I have not tested. The only possibility I have not calculated to completion."

She stood—or was she always standing?—and the room began to fade.

"Wait," I said quickly. "How do I find them?"

"You will know." Her voice was already distant, echoing from everywhere and nowhere. "Trust your bond. The patterns they left in you. The fragments you carried."

"But—"

"Warning," she said, and the word carried weight, like stones settling. "They are not your friends anymore. They are older. Harder. Changed. They have spent six years becoming what they are. They may try to hurt you. They may try to use you. They may try to break you the way they were broken."

The world was dissolving into light now. I could barely see her.

"And Jordan?" Her voice one last time, from very far away.

"Yeah?"

"The Digital World is dying. They are the disease. You may be the cure. But cures are often bitter. Cures often hurt. Are you prepared to hurt them to save them?"

Before I could answer, everything went white.

When I opened my eyes, I was somewhere else entirely.

The air smelled strange—like ozone and electricity and something sweet I couldn't name. The ground beneath me was solid cobblestone, worn smooth by countless footsteps.

I was in a town square. Buildings made of brick and wood surrounded me. And walking through the streets were Digimon—actual, real, three-dimensional Digimon. Not pixels on a screen, but living creatures going about their lives.

A few had stopped to stare at the human who'd suddenly appeared in the middle of their square.

Chapter Text

The first thing I noticed was the smell.

Not bad—just different. Like ozone after a thunderstorm mixed with something sweet I couldn't name. The air tasted electric, alive in a way air back home never did.

The second thing I noticed was the cobblestone beneath my cheek.

I pushed myself up slowly, head spinning. My body felt wrong—not painful, just... like I was wearing clothes that didn't quite fit. Every movement had this strange lag, like my brain was sending signals through water.

Where am I?

The white room with Yggdrasil was gone. My dorm room was gone. Everything was...

I looked up.

Real.

Around me was a town square. Buildings made of brick and wood and materials I didn't recognize lined narrow streets. Market stalls dotted the plaza, their colorful awnings fluttering in a breeze that felt too perfect, too precise. And walking through those streets, living and breathing and real, were Digimon.

A Gazimon carrying a basket of what looked like fruit, chattering to itself.

An Elecmon herding a group of small Koromon, their round bodies bouncing along.

They weren't pixels on a screen. They weren't animations. They were three-dimensional, solid, alive.

"I'm actually here," I whispered.

In my hands, still warm from whatever journey I'd just taken, the egg pulsed with heat.

I tried to stand. My legs wobbled—my center of gravity was wrong, my weight distributed differently than I was used to. I could feel myself wanting to puke, like I was rejecting something inside of me, but I held it in, the nausea slowly dissipating.

I managed to get to my feet, clutching the egg against my chest.

That's when I noticed the silence.

The square had been bustling just moments ago—I'd heard the market chatter, the footsteps, the ambient noise of daily life. But now, nothing.

I turned.

Everyone had stopped.

The Gazimon frozen mid-step, a fruit basket hanging from his arm.

A Digimon I couldn't recognize with his hand still extended toward a customer, transaction incomplete.

Small Digimon, what looked to be some small in-training Digimon I didn't recognize—staring with wide eyes from behind their parents.

The Elecmon, shifting the Koromon herd behind it.

All of them were looking at me.

Why are they—

"Is that...?" someone whispered.

Another voice, louder: "A human?"

A third, panicked: "A HUMAN!"

The word rippled through the crowd like a shockwave.

Suddenly, the square exploded into motion.

Mothers grabbed children, pulling them close. Market stalls were abandoned, goods left scattered. Digimon backed away, some tripping over themselves in their haste to put distance between us.

"No. Not again."

"Death follows them—"

"Another one? Why another one?!"

"Get away from the plaza!"

I stood there, frozen, as fear radiated from every direction. Not just fear—terror. Primal, bone-deep terror, like I was a natural disaster given human form.

"I... I'm not here to hurt anyone," I tried to say, but my voice came out weak, shaky.

It made things worse.

Confirmation that I was real. That I could speak.

A Digimon clutched two small creatures to her chest and sobbed. "Please, not my children. Please."

What did I do? What's happening?

I felt like I'd walked into a room full of people who hated me, but I didn't know why. Like I was wearing a symbol that meant something terrible, but no one had told me what.

My hands tightened around the egg. It was the only thing that made sense right now.

A sharp whistle cut through the chaos.

"MILITIA! FORMATION!"

Digimon appeared from all directions—some dropping what they were carrying, others sprinting from side streets. They converged on the plaza with practiced efficiency, forming a circle around me.

I counted eight. Ten. Fifteen.

All armed. Makeshift weapons—metal pipes, wooden staffs, blades that looked salvaged from something else. But deadly.

And all pointed at me.

A Leomon stood at the front, taller than me by at least two feet, his mane wild and his expression hard. Behind him, a Gatomon with a Holy Ring on her tail, eyes sharp and calculating. To the side, a Gaogamon, growling low in his throat.

They surrounded me completely. No way out.

"Who are you?" Leomon demanded, voice like gravel. "Identify yourself, Human! How did you breach the security field?!"

"I—what? I don't—" My thoughts were scrambling. "I just got here, I don't know what—"

"Are you with the Vanguard?" Gatomon cut in, stepping forward. "The Covenant? Which faction sent you?!"

"I don't know what those are—"

"Doesn't matter," Gaogamon growled. "Humans mean death is coming."

The crowd behind them erupted again.

"Send him back!"

"He'll bring disaster here!"

"Where's BanchoLeomon?! Someone get BanchoLeomon!"

"Another one! When will it end?!"

"My children... please, just keep them safe..."

I backed up a step, but there was nowhere to go. The circle of militia members closed in tighter.

They're scared of me. They're all scared of me.

But why? What had I done? What did they think I was going to do?

Like I'm a murderer. Like I've already killed someone.

The egg in my hands grew warmer, trembling.

"Please," I tried again, voice breaking. "I don't understand what's happening. I'm not here to hurt anyone. I'm just—"

A sharp crack interrupted me.

I looked down.

Light spilled from fractures in the egg's shell.

"Wait," someone in the crowd said. "Is that...?"

The shouting stopped.

Even the militia members paused, weapons still raised but attention divided.

I watched, stunned, as the shell continued to crack. Pieces fell away, dissolving into sparkles of light before they hit the ground. The glow intensified, warm and bright and somehow happy.

And then, sitting in my palms, was a small creature.

Round. Soft. Light green and gelatinous, like jelly given form. A yellow pacifier bobbed in its mouth. Enormous eyes blinked up at me, innocent and curious.

"A... a new birth?" someone whispered.

"An egg hatched?"

"When was the last time...?"

"Months. Maybe years."

The militia members lowered their weapons slightly, staring.

Even Leomon's expression shifted—still wary, but confused now. Uncertain.

The little creature tilted its head at me.

"Hello, and good morning!" it said, voice muffled by the pacifier but cheerful and high-pitched. "Pabumon, at your service! Nice to finally meet you again, Jordan!"

I blinked. "Y-you... Know me?"

"Of course I know you! We've been together for six years! Did you think I would forget so easily?"

It looked around, noticing the circle of armed Digimon for the first time.

Paused.

"...I—hmm. Well, this must be a speedrun record for fastest battle encounter! Do I get an achievement for that?"

Silence.

"Speedrun?" someone in the crowd muttered. "What's that mean?"

"Achievement?"

But I recognized the terms immediately. "Those are... those are from the game. The Digimon game."

Pabumon looked up at me, pacifier bobbing. "Of course they are!"

Then its eyes narrowed—as much as a blob with a pacifier could narrow its eyes.

"And speaking of six years—I can FINALLY talk to you! Do you know how HARD it's been not being able to talk to you for SIX YEARS?! Not to mention the amount of times you've left me in the toilet and forgotten about me! I have RIGHTS too, you know!"

Despite everything—the fear, the confusion, the armed Digimon surrounding me—I almost laughed.

"You... you've been conscious this whole time? In the Digivice?"

"Obviously! Where did you think I was?!"

"I thought you were just... data. Code. Not... aware."

"Well I WAS aware! And BORED! Do you know how boring six years of 'feed me, train me, battle, sleep' is without conversation?!"

A few of the militia members exchanged glances.

Gatomon looked at Leomon. "What is going on?"

From the crowd, quieter now: "But... an egg hatched. That hasn't happened here in so long..."

"Maybe it's not all bad?"

"Don't be foolish. Humans bring death. Always have."

"But a new birth—"

"Doesn't change what he is."

The voice cut through everything.

Deep. Resonant. Not shouted, but somehow reaching every corner of the plaza with absolute clarity.

"No one shall harm the boy."

Instant silence.

Everyone knew that voice.

The militia members immediately straightened, weapons lowering completely. The crowd went still, heads turning as one toward the far end of the plaza.

A pause. Then:

"Bring him to me."

Leomon and Gatomon exchanged looks. Then, without a word, they both nodded.

Gaogamon stepped back, making space. "BanchoLeomon has spoken. He must know something we don't."

Leomon turned to me, expression still hard but obedient. "You're going to meet the Guardian of the Tree. Don't make us regret this."

Gatomon moved to my side. "And don't do anything stupid."

The crowd parted like water, creating a clear path. All eyes followed it to the source of the voice.

I followed their gaze and saw, for the first time, what stood at the center of Haven's Rest.

A tree.

Massive. Ancient. Rising from the plaza like a monument to something long past.

But it was dying.

The bark was grey, cracked like old stone. Branches twisted upward, some bare, others clinging to wilted brown leaves. And around the entire thing—pulsing weakly, flickering on and off like a struggling heartbeat—was a faint blue glow.

Light emanating from the bark itself, from the roots breaking through the cobblestones, from the air around it.

Digimon camped at its base, sitting close to the trunk as if seeking warmth. Some had their eyes closed, faces peaceful despite the obvious decay. As though data was leaking from their bodies, I could see the very data that made up the Digimon slowly ooze out of them.

"What... what happened to them?" I whispered.

No one answered.

The militia formed up around me—not hostile now, but watchful. An escort.

"Let's go," Leomon said simply.

We walked through the parted crowd. Refugees watched us pass, whispering to each other. Children peeked out from behind their parents, eyes wide.

Pabumon had gone quiet in my arms. I could feel him trembling slightly.

"Hey," I whispered. "You okay?"

"I... I can feel something. From that tree. It's... big. Really big."

So could I, now that we were closer. A presence. Warm but fading. Like standing near a fire that was slowly going out.

The path led upward—steps carved into the plaza, rising toward the tree's base. As we climbed, I noticed something that made my stomach tighten.

Leaves were falling.

Drifting down in slow spirals, detaching from branches with barely a sound.

And as they fell, they dissolved. Broke apart into tiny particles of light—pixels, almost—that scattered into the air and vanished.

Each leaf, gone forever.

"It's dying," I said quietly.

"Has been for months," Gatomon replied without looking at me.

"Why? What's killing it?"

She was quiet for a moment. Then, so softly I almost didn't hear: "Kindness."

I didn't understand. But something in her tone told me not to ask.

We reached the summit.

The steps opened onto a flat platform at the tree's base. The massive trunk rose directly before us, bark glowing with that struggling blue light. Up close, I could see how badly it was cracked, how much of the wood beneath was grey and lifeless.

But in front of the tree stood something else.

A shrine.

Simple wooden structure, traditional Japanese architecture. A torii gate marked the entrance. Sacred space.

And sitting before the shrine, perfectly still, was the most powerful Digimon I'd ever seen.

A lion. Humanoid. Looking exactly like the Leomon next to me, yet its muscular frame wrapped in a tattered black coat that looked like it had seen a hundred battles. Scars covered visible skin. But somehow, as I gazed upon the lonely figure, I could feel danger radiating off the humanoid lion. The feeling eclipsed the danger I felt from the group of Digimon earlier.

And his right arm was missing. Just... gone, together with the right sleeve. What remained was a charred stump for all to see.

He sat in meditation, legs crossed, his remaining arm resting on his knee. Eyes closed.

But around him—the same blue glow that surrounded the tree. And connecting them, visible even to my untrained eyes, was a tether of light. Thin, fragile, pulsing with each breath he took.

He's connected to it somehow.

The militia stopped a respectful distance away.

Leomon stepped forward and bowed. "BanchoLeomon. We bring the human, as you commanded."

The figure didn't move. Didn't open his eyes.

Just sat there, breathing slowly, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm with the tree's flickering glow.

Seconds passed.

Ten. Twenty. Thirty.

The silence grew heavier. I wanted to say something—anything—but my throat had closed up.

Pabumon hadn't made a sound since we reached the summit. I could feel him shaking in my arms now, not from cold but from something else. Fear? Awe?

I didn't know.

"Leave us."

BanchoLeomon's voice was quiet. Not loud. Not aggressive.

But absolute.

The militia members hesitated. I saw Leomon's jaw tighten, Gatomon's tail flick with uncertainty. They wanted to protest—leaving a human alone with BanchoLeomon felt wrong, I could see it in their faces.

But no words came out.

Because they knew: BanchoLeomon was serious.

This wasn't a request. This was an order.

Leomon closed his mouth. Bowed deeper. "As you command."

The others followed suit.

They turned and descended the stairs, casting wary glances back at me as they went.

And then I was alone.

Just me, Pabumon, and the massive warrior sitting in front of a dying tree that pulsed with the same light that kept him alive.

The atmosphere grew heavy. Uncomfortable.

I didn't know what to say. What could I say?

The past few minutes—hell, the past hour—had been the most shocking of my entire life. Pulled into a white room by a god-like being, told my missing friends were alive and corrupted, given an egg, thrown into a digital world, materialized in the middle of a crowd that feared me like I was death itself, surrounded by armed guards, and now standing before... this.

My brain was still trying to catch up.

Pabumon trembled in my arms.

Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes.

BanchoLeomon didn't move. Eyes still closed. Just sitting there, breathing, meditating, connected to the tree by threads of dying light.

I wanted to speak. I wanted to explain myself. I wanted to ask what was happening.

But I didn't dare break the silence.

Finally—after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a minute—BanchoLeomon spoke.

"So."

His voice carried weight. Deep, tired, but undeniable.

"Another human."

A pause. The blue light pulsed.

"After six years, another one arrives."

His eyes remained closed.

But I felt the weight of those words settle over me like a physical thing.

Another human. After six years.

The five.

He was talking about the five.

Kenji, Aoi, Daichi, Mei, Riku.

And now I was the sixth.

Chapter Text

"Another human. After six years, another one arrives."

Pabumon trembled in my arms. I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs.

Slowly, deliberately, BanchoLeomon opened his eyes.

The weight of that gaze nearly drove me to my knees.

Not anger. Not hatred. Something worse—judgment. Cold assessment. It felt like court was in session, and I was the defendant.

"Was five not enough? Did that accursed god have to bring forth another? We can only tolerate this suffering for so long!" His voice rose as a fiery aura burst from his body, hotter than anything I'd ever felt. As though my skin would blister, yet it stayed the same—but I could feel the scorching pain blast across my body.

I clenched my teeth. It took everything to even stay standing as I clutched Pabumon tighter in my arms. But soon I fell to my knees. Air... I needed to breathe.

Then the pain stopped, the aura in the air flickering away. I heaved in as much air as I could, my mind reeling from what I'd just experienced. The pain disappeared instantly, like it had never happened. The pain should have lingered, not dissipated as though it wasn't there in the first place. Why was everything feeling wrong?

Looking down, I saw Pabumon collapsed, its eyes turning into swirls similar to how Digimon who'd lost a battle would look. Gazing back up, I could see BanchoLeomon letting out a huge sigh.

"The last time humans arrived in the Digital World, it heralded a swarm of corruption. So tell me, human—what does your arrival mean? What fresh disaster have you brought to our world?"

"I—" I tried to speak, struggling as I tried to catch my breath. "I... I am here to find my friends and bring them back home. Kenji, Mei, Daichi, Aoi, and Riku. Their parents have been searching for years. Hoping and praying every night and day for them to come home. Every year we would meet in a cafe near the school, catching up with each other, hoping that one day they would show up."

I looked straight at BanchoLeomon. His eyes gazed back at me.

"For six years I searched. I joined the volunteers in the search. I worked through documents after documents. Spent months with Mr. Shimizu, combing through interviews and site maps—all just to find them. Now that I've finally found them and have the chance to save them, to bring them back to their families, I will do it. I don't have anything to bring to this world. I'm just here to take them back. Back home."

BanchoLeomon looked at me for a while, as though he was letting my reasons simmer in the air. That fire he'd let out earlier still warmed the air around us as I started to sweat—albeit later than I'd expected, as though my body was still trying to understand what to do.

"Bring them home, you say... You say it as if such a feat would be so easy. A naive goal, fitting for a human entering our world for the first time. You have hope in your eyes, just like they did. How quickly will that hope burn out, like all the others?"

BanchoLeomon stood up. I now saw his full height, and dear god, he was massive. He was three times the size of the Leomon from before—my head only reached his thighs. He walked slowly toward me, each step causing the ground beneath me to shake. Was it due to his sheer size, or the power he wielded? Either way, I knew I was powerless before this Digimon.

"In your world, the human world, do laws exist?"

He asked as he stopped in front of me, within reaching distance.

"Of course we do."

"Then tell me this—what does your law rule in such a case, where a man, so far gone in his pursuit of victory, eliminates his own allies to end the conflict?"

"W-what? That's a wa—...wait, no. It wouldn't be a crime necessarily."

"So your human justice does not care for the deaths of comrades."

"No, we do. It's... laws and people are complicated. You ca—"

"No. It is simple." BanchoLeomon held the stump where his right arm used to be. "There are lines you do not cross. Values, trust, emotions—they are what fuel the currents of the Digital World. For without these, you are just a virus, feeding upon what you cannot have, what you cannot understand."

"Your friends. I wonder if you will still call them so once you learn what has become of them. You seek to bring them home, as though they have not left their mark on this world."

"Perhaps, if you are like them, you may succeed in your goal. Then it begs the question—why should I let you? Why let them, who have bastardized their mission, leave without due punishment? How will I answer the fallen, those who sacrificed themselves for the sake of us all? Won't letting you leave here alive mean letting their actions go without consequence?"

"I have heard Kenji, on numerous occasions, say that we Digimon, and this world, were a game to them. Something they would play for fun. Do you, too, see this world as nothing more than your playhouse? Us, your toy soldiers? Something to prod and play with?"

The question hit like a physical blow.

"No." My voice came out hoarse. "No, I don't—"

"Then why are you here?" BanchoLeomon's voice was quiet now, but somehow more terrifying than his rage. "If you don't see this as a game, then you understand what you're walking into. War. Atrocities. Your friends are responsible for thousands of deaths. Tens of thousands of refugees. Four of my closest comrades—gone. Likely dead. They may have been heroes once, but no longer."

He leaned down slightly, bringing his face closer to mine.

"So I ask you again—why are you here? What makes you think you have any right to 'bring them home' without answering for what they've done?"

I forced myself to meet his gaze, even though every instinct screamed to look away.

"Because..." I swallowed hard. "Because their families are still waiting. Their parents sit in that cafe every year, hoping. Praying. Never giving up even when everyone else said they were dead. I've been given the chance to bring them back. I'm not going to give up now."

"Selfish, just like the rest. So typical—the same result each and every time. You humans are all alike, only thinking of yourselves. You come here with noble purposes, yet once that shallow layer of righteousness disappears, it's all to fulfill your selfish desires."

"Their parents beg for their children to return—what do you think about the friends and family of the Digimon they've hurt? Does your world's pain supersede our own?"

"No." I shook my head. "No, it doesn't. But... but I don't think they meant for any of this to happen. I knew them. They were good kids. They wouldn't—"

"Then you do not know what they have become. You do not know who they truly are. Perhaps that is where the true cruelty of humans lies—that your kind always has a rotten root."

"T-that's not true!" said a voice coming from my chest. I looked down and saw Pabumon awake and looking angry.

"Jordan might be careless at times, and not the greatest player out there, but he's always done everything he could to help those in need! He'd visit their parents every chance he got, always helping the community recover. Even after the search efforts ended, he still continued volunteering in search parties! He even went to study law to better help people! He's in no way a rotten human!" Pabumon shouted before a shining light grew around him.

"Pabumon digivolve to!" The light grew brighter and brighter, and soon it dissipated. In my arms was a different Digimon—still green and gelatinous, but larger now, with a single horn on its head and stubby limbs. The pacifier was gone, replaced by a determined expression.

"Gummymon!"

"I-I may not be a Boltmon anymore, but I can still deck you in the nose, you big meanie!"

"This... Your bonds are strong. Stronger than the ones they had..."

"Of course we're stronger! Those six years weren't for nothing! So come at me, you big meanie! I'll show you what's what! I've beaten Etemon more smelly than you! And Machinedramon that’s way bigger than you!"

"Hey, Gummymon, calm down!"

"You've raised your partner well..."

"It was the only thing that connected me to them. When they left, all I had was the Digivice and their notebook. I felt that if I stopped, then that chance of them returning would stop too."

"And he did a bang-up job too! Bet I can really knock you around—just watch me!" Gummymon shouted, puffing what little chest area it even had, while doing some kind of shadowboxing with the tiny horn on its head.

BanchoLeomon stayed silent for a while, looking straight at me. I didn't know what was going through his head, but I knew that even with Gummymon's boasting, if he wanted to, he could kill us both with just a slap.

"If you see them, what will you do?"

"I-I would talk to them. Make them see reason."

"And if they won't change? If they do not see reason, what then? Will you be willing to stop them?"

"Stop them?"

"Even now they continue to wage war against each other, hide away, wander the wastes, and build war machines. If they are not stopped, this world will meet its end—not by the corruption, but by human hands."

"Will you stop them? Or do you not care about this world?"

"Y—" I tried to say Yggdrasil's name, but the word got stuck in my throat. I couldn't sound it out even if I tried my hardest. "They sent me here... to save the Digital World. You asked me what I came here for, and I gave you my honest answer. But if they are really as far gone as you imply, then I will fulfill the request that was given to me, and I'll do what I can to save this world."

"So you've placed the fate of our world behind your selfish goals?"

"You said it yourself—that humans are selfish. Maybe it's true, maybe it's not. But I won't lie about what I am here for. If I can save them, if they are able to be saved, then I'll save them. But if I can't, then I'll save this world instead."

"You say it so easily—to save something. Or maybe that's what it takes to do it: to not know how hard the journey will be."

BanchoLeomon then turned his back, facing toward me as he gazed up at the Tree.

"For four years I have been forced to stay. My injuries from that battle never healed. I am but a parasite, just like my fellow Digimon who bathe under the light of the South World Tree. I am unable to carry out justice, and my fellow comrades are gone to the wind."

He paused, his remaining hand clenching.

"I hear the whispers of their deaths, by the hands of those you wish to save. We once taught them, guided them, mentored them. I do not wish to believe that they'd harm the very Digimon who nurtured them in their time of need. I have seen what they would do in order to achieve their goals, and I fear my own thoughts of how much further they would go."

"Haven's Rest is a haven for all Digimon, and once for humans as well. I will allow you to stay. You may rest here for however long you need. Perhaps by staying here, you will see what the people you wish to save have done to this world."

"If you still wish to save them, to bring them home to their loved ones, then climb those steps again and give me your answer. Or give up and leave the way you came. Then tell their parents the truth—that their children are monsters now, that there's no bringing them back. Their early deaths would be a mercy compared to the knowledge of what they have done."

"This will be a choice you will make. Like how they've made their choices, you will do the same. I will not guide you like I did them. Do what you will. I am tired of these games."

"But know this—Kenji, Daichi, and Mei, their factions have spies in Haven's Rest. They may lurk in the shadows and play their little games, but nothing escapes my watch. By now, messengers would be racing across the wastelands, soaring through the skies, and traveling the rivers and oceans. Soon that information will reach their ears. I do not know what will come of this. They may try to recruit you. They may try to kill you. But I am certain they will try to break you."

"And if you bring war to my doorstep—if your presence here causes one of them to attack Haven's Rest—I will cast you out. I won't sacrifice what's left of this place."

"Leomon!" He shouted as he started walking, moving back toward the Tree.

The Leomon from before appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Take him to guest quarters. Let everyone know he is a guest of Haven's Rest. Let them know he is not a part of any faction."

"Understood." Leomon approached, his expression unreadable. "Can you walk?"

I nodded, struggling to my feet. My legs felt like jelly. Gummymon jumped down, as though it didn't want to burden me.

"Come on," Leomon said, not unkindly. "Let's get you a room."

I looked back at BanchoLeomon one more time.

He stood before the Tree, his back to me, the blue light flickering around him like a dying heartbeat.

"Humans are fickle beings. They change color as the wind changes direction. I pray you are not the same." BanchoLeomon spoke as we moved down the stairs.

Leomon led me down the stairs in silence.

My body still felt wrong—the phantom heat from BanchoLeomon's aura lingering even though it was gone. My skin should have been blistered. I should have had burns. But there was nothing.

Digital World, I reminded myself. Different rules. Different physics.

We walked through the plaza. Refugees watched me pass—some with fear, some with curiosity, a few with something that might have been hope.

Or desperation.

"Here," Leomon said, stopping at a small building near the plaza's edge. "Guest housing."

He opened a door to reveal a simple room. Bed. Table. Window overlooking the Tree.

"There's food downstairs in the common area—just approach Palmon. Militia patrols run all night. Don't do anything stupid. We'll be watching you."

He started to leave.

"Leomon," I called out. "BanchoLeomon said... he said his comrades are probably dead. Is that really true?"

"You mean that the five heroes killed them?"

"Y-yeah..."

"I wasn't part of Haven's Rest back then. I only heard stories about them when I arrived here. But from the sounds of it, they're either gone or dead. Most just believe they're dead. After all, powerful Digimon like them aren't the type to suddenly disappear without a fight."

He paused at the door.

"I don't know why you think they need saving. To us Digimon, they were the Chosen Ones—supposed to save us from corruption. Instead, they turned the world upside down. Whatever you knew them as... it doesn't exist anymore."

Leomon left, closing the door behind him.

I stood there for a moment, then looked down at Gummymon beside me.

"I... don't think I could have beaten that BanchoLeomon, Jordan..." Gummymon whimpered. "I-I ain't as strong when I'm all out of muscle."

"It's okay. We'll figure this out together, okay? After all, we've only got each other now."

I moved to the window, looking out at the dying Tree. Its blue glow flickered weakly in the darkness. Somewhere beneath it, BanchoLeomon sat in meditation, slowly dying to keep it alive a little longer.

I sat on the bed. Gummymon hopped up beside me.

"Do you really think we can save them?" he asked quietly.

I pulled out the notebook. Opened it to a random page.

Kenji's handwriting: "Courage means protecting your friends, no matter what!"

I closed it.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But BanchoLeomon told us to look around. To see what they've done. So tomorrow, we will start doing that."

"And then?"

"And then we decide if they're worth saving."

But even as I said it, I knew the answer.

I'd already decided.

I'd come too far to give up now.

Chapter Text

I woke to sunlight filtering through the window.

For a moment, I forgot where I was. The bed was too firm, the air tasted wrong, and the sounds drifting in from outside were unfamiliar—voices calling in languages I didn’t recognize, the shuffling of footsteps on cobblestone, the distant creak of wooden carts.

Then it all came rushing back.

Digital World. Haven’s Rest. BanchoLeomon. The five.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my face. My body still felt off—not painful, just… wrong. Like I was wearing someone else’s skin.

“Good Morning! Nice to see you finally up, sleepyhead!”

I looked over. Gummymon was already awake, bouncing slightly on the floor near the window. His horn caught the light as he turned to face me.

“How long have you been up?” I asked.

“A while! I’ve been watching everyone down there.” He hopped onto the windowsill. “There’s so many Digimon! And they’re all doing stuff! And I’m pretty sure Leomon said someone giving out food yesterday and I’m starving, Jordan. Let’s get a move on and chow down on some good stuff!”

Despite everything, I smiled. “Yeah. Let’s get breakfast.”

I pulled on my jacket—still had the notebook in the inner pocket, safe—and we headed downstairs.

The common area was larger than I’d expected.

The ground floor of the guest housing opened into a communal dining space—long wooden tables, mismatched chairs, cushions scattered on the floor for Digimon who couldn’t use furniture. The walls were worn but clean, and morning light poured through windows that overlooked the plaza.

Refugees filled the space. Eating quietly, talking in hushed tones, moving with the exhausted efficiency of people who’d done this routine too many times.

Some glanced at me as I entered. A few stared longer—human, new, worth watching. Most were too tired to care.

At the far end of the room, behind a long counter, stood a Palmon.

She was serving a Gazimon, handing over a simple wooden bowl filled with something that steamed slightly. The Gazimon nodded thanks and shuffled to a table.

Palmon looked up, saw me, and smiled tiredly.

“You must be the new human. Word spreads fast here.”

I approached the counter. Gummymon bounced beside me, trying to see over the edge.

“Jordan,” I said. “And this is Gummymon.”

“Hi! We’re here for food! Whatever you’ve got, we’ll eat it!”

Palmon chuckled—a warm sound that seemed out of place in this grey morning. “Hungry little one, aren’t you?”

She ladled food into two bowls. Simple stuff—some kind of grain, vegetables I didn’t recognize, a piece of meat stuck on a bone twice the size of it. It smelled… fine. What stuck out was the quantity—small, just enough to satiate hunger. To compensate for the lack of solids, it was served in a light, clear soup.

She set the bowls down precisely. Exact portions. The grains weighed, the meat portioned exactly, with the same amount of vegetables. This was far from just regular meal preparation.

“You’re… rationing?” I asked.

Palmon nodded. “Every inhabitant gets one bowl a day free. Used to be more generous. Now…” She gestured vaguely at the crowded room. “We make do.”

I took the bowls, found an empty spot at a table near the wall. Gummymon attacked his food immediately. Thankfully, it didn’t complain about the food quality. I still remembered feeding it the highest-tier meat back in the game. Has that knowledge carried over?

I ate slower, watching around me.

The refugees moved like ghosts. Eating because they had to, not because they wanted to. Some had visible injuries—missing data, patches where their forms seemed incomplete. Others looked whole but moved wrong, carrying invisible wounds.

A mother—some kind of beast Digimon—fed an In-Training Digimon. But the kid was translucent in places, like it was only half-there. Does that mean something? Perhaps it’s an affliction of some kind… that…

I looked away, my rampant attempt to explain what I didn’t understand going awry. Best I wait until I find someone capable of explaining what I was seeing.

After breakfast, I brought the bowls back to the counter.

Palmon was wiping down the surface, organizing supplies behind her. A stockpile of ingredients lined shelves—bags, containers, preserved food. All carefully labeled and portioned.

“Thank you,” I said. “For the food.”

“Of course.” She continued wiping. “It’s what I do.”

“Have you been doing this long?”

“You mean cooking? All my life. But I’ve been tending this kitchen for as long as I’ve been here. Time blurs—sometimes the years turn into months, and days into years. It used to be that I'd see familiar faces around. Nowadays they come and go. Where to? I can only guess.”

She paused, looking at her stockpile.

“I owned a farm once. Just outside Haven’s Rest. A small place, but it was mine. Grew everything from grains to vegetables, and even meat. It was the best time of my life, growing my garden and sharing with the community.”

“What happened?”

“Corruption started approaching.” Her voice went flat. “Slowly at first. Dead patches in the soil. Plants withering overnight. Then faster. I woke up one morning and the dead zone was at my fence line. I did everything I could to purify the land. I thought I made progress. Then the corrupted Digimon came, and I didn’t have the strength to stay, so I ran.”

She set down the cloth.

“I grabbed what I could carry. Left everything else. The farm, the seeds, the life I’d built.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s a story you’ll find anywhere. Ask anyone and you’ll find it all the same.” She started organizing jars. “Corruption spreads. Faction wars displace people. They flee here because Haven’s Rest doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t demand allegiance. It just accepts them, and I feed them the best I can.”

She smiled sadly. “It wasn’t always like this. Haven’s Rest used to be peaceful. Prosperous. Before the corruption intensified. Before the heroes.”

My stomach tightened. “You mean the five?”

“Yes.” She turned to face me. “I met them, you know. When they first arrived. Six years ago.”

I leaned forward. “You did?”

“Scared kids.” Her expression softened. “I could tell they were children. Their eyes were so innocent. Clutching eggs they didn’t understand. Appeared right in the plaza, confused and terrified, like you. The Banchos, when there were still five of them, took them in.”

“They used to eat in this same kitchen. Sat right over there—” She pointed to a corner table. “—every morning for two years. They would make jokes, tell me stories of their world, about their families. They’d help others, and me in their own ways.”

She smiled at the memory.

“I still remember that boy, Riku, I think his name was. He was the first to ask me how to cook, said he wanted to cook for his friends.”

The smile faded.

“They were good kids. So full of hope. They’d talk about saving the world, protecting everyone, making things better. And they meant it. I saw it in their eyes.”

She looked down at her hands.

“I don’t know what happened. I was too busy tending this kitchen to notice the change. They were just kids eating breakfast. The next time I heard about them, they were leading armies.”

“I haven’t seen any of them in years. But I see what they left behind.” She gestured to the crowded room. “All these refugees. They’re here because of faction wars. Because of the five.”

Silence settled between us.

“Are you like them?” Palmon asked quietly. “Like how they were when they first arrived? Here to help?”

I hesitated. “I’m… here to find them. To bring them home.”

“Do they even have homes to return to?”

“Their parents are still waiting. Every year, we meet at a cafe near their old school. Their families, me, and a teacher. We talk about them, share memories, and hope that maybe this year they’ll come back. After all these years, I’ve finally found them, and I won’t go back until I reunite them with their families.”

Palmon studied me for a long moment.

She moved behind the counter, checking her stockpile again. Her expression tightened.

“I have a problem. Maybe you can help.”

“A problem?”

“Food.” She pulled out a nearly empty bag, showed me. “Specifically, meat seeds. They’re hard to cultivate, harder to find. I’ve been using my reserves for months, and they’re almost gone.”

She set the bag down heavily.

“I have maybe three weeks left. Maybe less if more refugees arrive. And they will—they always do.”

“Can’t you get more? From merchants or—”

“Prices here have skyrocketed in the last few months. No merchant is willing to trade seeds at a low cost anymore. Too valuable to part with. Most send their supply to appease the Covenant and Iron Vanguard. They won’t sell to a kitchen like mine.”

“But I have a stockpile, saved up in my old farm. It’s locked tight—tight enough that I know it’ll still be there. No one stupid enough is going into corrupted lands to loot a heavily locked basement of a farm.”

Understanding dawned. “So you want me to go get them.”

“I left a sack of seeds in my storage cellar. Sealed properly, they should still be viable. It’s half a day’s walk from here, just outside the safe zone.”

She leaned on the counter.

“If you could retrieve them, it would buy us months. Maybe longer. Time to figure out something more permanent.”

I thought about it. Half a day’s walk. Outside the safe zone. Into areas where corruption might be.

Where someone like me—weak, inexperienced, with only an In-Training partner—could very easily die.

“A quest, Jordan, this is a quest! It smells, tastes, sounds, and feels like a real genuine bona fide quest!” Gummymon said as it jumped up and down happily.

“Gummymon? It’ll be dangerous!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you! I’m strong and all that. Think about the yummy experience, Jordan! Tasty Yummy Juicy E.X.P!”

Seeing Gummymon so excited made me wonder how his personality ended up this way. Maybe my playstyle of never missing a daily quest and 100%ing the quest log before reaching the final scenario had rubbed off on Gummymon.

It was going to be dangerous. I didn’t know what was out there. I didn’t know what the corruption even was. Yet, someone was asking for help. I couldn’t just look away when I could do something. With Gummymon by my side, maybe I could do more than just be a bystander.

“Alright, we’ll help. I’m assuming you have a key to this basement?”

Palmon’s expression softened, relief visible.

“Thank you. Really. Thank you.”

She started writing directions on a piece of cloth with charcoal, together with placing a key on the table.

“Follow the south road out of Haven’s Rest. You’ll pass through the gates, then about three hours into the wasteland, you’ll see a dead grove—white trees, completely bleached. Turn east there. Another hour and you’ll find the farm. A small building, a red door if it hasn’t faded completely. The entrance to the basement is around the back.”

She handed me the cloth.

“Be careful. Corrupted Digimon are rare these days, but they exist. And there are things in the wastes—scavengers, faction scouts. Avoid fights if you can.”

“We will.”

“And Jordan?” She met my eyes. “Come back safe.”

A voice spoke from behind me. “You’ll die if you go out there without gear.”

I turned.

A Gaogamon stood there—tall, wolf-like, blue and white fur marked with scars. One of the militia members who’d been at my arrival yesterday.

“I was listening,” he said bluntly, no apology in his tone. “You’re green. So green you’d walk into the wastes and add onto the pile of dead data in the sands.”

He jerked his head toward the door. “Follow me. I know a place. You’ll need supplies if you want to make it back in one piece.”

I looked at Palmon. She nodded slightly—trust him.

“Okay,” I said. “Lead the way.”

Gaogamon led us out of the guest housing and into Haven’s Rest proper.

Morning had fully arrived. The plaza buzzed with activity—refugees moving between buildings, merchants setting up stalls, children playing near the Tree’s base while their parents watched nervously. Militia members patrolled in pairs, alert but not aggressive.

The tree loomed over everything, its blue glow faint in daylight. More leaves fell as we passed, dissolving into pixels before hitting the ground.

Digimon watched us as we walked. Some curious, some wary, most tried to look the other away, as if afraid to make eye contact with me..

“Better get used to it. Not every day you get to see a human. Most who’ve seen one don’t last long,” Gaogamon muttered.

We walked in silence for a few minutes, navigating the crowded streets. Haven’s Rest was bigger than I’d thought—districts bleeding into each other, narrow alleys between buildings, the organized chaos of a place that had grown too fast.

Finally, Gaogamon spoke.

“I used to be part of the Old Guard. We maintained the eastern territories.”

I glanced at him, surprised he was volunteering information.

“We fought the corruption. Hard. It was our purpose, our tradition. Warriors defending the Digital World, protecting the weak, maintaining honor in combat.”

He paused at an intersection, checking both ways before continuing.

“We fought alongside the humans for a while. The five. Before they left to combat some other threat elsewhere. I wasn’t strong enough then—just a Gaomon. The real warriors fought on the front lines with them. I stayed back, trained, and waited for my chance to prove myself.”

“Then one of them came back. A year later. Different. Stronger. The Human, Kenji, and his partner had reached a level of power we’d never seen before.”

We turned down another street, this one quieter.

“Within weeks, all the leaders of the Old Guard bowed to him. Let him become our ruler. Just like that. Centuries of tradition, generations of leadership, all set aside for a human most had never seen before. Untested, untrustworthy.”

“No one knew why. It didn’t make sense. So, some of us called for duels. Challenge the new leader, prove your strength, earn the right to question him.”

Gaogamon’s jaw tightened.

“Every Digimon who faced the human fell. Not close fights. Not honorable defeats where you lost but earned respect. Obliterated. His partner would destroy opponents in seconds. Some didn’t get back up. Some were damaged so badly they had to spend months under the tree to heal. A few weren’t so lucky—left to rot in the shadows.”

He stopped walking, looked at me directly.

“We realized then that the human was far stronger than any of us. That he would be our ruler, whether we wanted it or not. Whether it was honorable or not. Because power decided everything, and he had more than any of us.”

I swallowed hard. This was Kenji he was talking about. The boy who invited me on my first day to join their little group. The life of the party, the one who’d always stood up for his friends…

Gaogamon resumed walking.

“Things stayed the same for a while. Same training regimens. Same patrol routes. Leadership changed but the structure held. Then the corruption attacks intensified.”

“Battles became brutal. More brutal than anything I’d experienced. The corruption was always dangerous, but we’d fought it with strategy, with honor, with respect for fallen comrades.”

His voice dropped.

“Under the human, none of that mattered. Orders changed. ‘Acceptable casualties’ became common terminology. ‘Necessary sacrifices.’ We’d charge into battles we weren’t prepared for, lose dozens, and he would say it was worth it because we’d eliminated the corruption in that area.”

“Lives weren’t as important anymore. We were tools. Weapons to be used and discarded.”

We passed through a narrower alley. The sounds of the plaza faded behind us.

“Then one day, during a battle, I felt something I’d never felt before.”

He touched one of the scars on his face.

“Fighting corruption, holding the line, and suddenly… panic. Not the adrenaline of combat. Not the focus you need to survive. Pure, primal terror. Instinctual fear like nothing I’d experienced facing the corruption.”

“I turned around. Saw the human giving orders from the back line. Saw the look in his eyes—cold, calculating. Saw him watching us fight like we were pieces on a game board.”

“And I knew. If I stayed, I’d die. Not to corruption. To him. In some battle he deemed ‘necessary.’ Some sacrifice he’d call ‘acceptable.’”

“I was attacked while I panicked. Got these.” He gestured to scars across his body—deep gouges, claw marks, one that ran from shoulder to hip. “Didn’t wait to see what happened next. Didn’t stop to help anyone. Just ran.”

Shame colored his voice.

“Found Leomon a few days later, leading a small group of deserters. Others who’d seen what I saw. Others who’d chosen to run rather than die for someone else’s vision of victory.”

“We traveled together—about twenty of us. Lost some to corruption attacks, lost some to faction patrols hunting deserters. Twelve of us made it to Haven’s Rest.”

“Been here two years now. Helping maintain order, protecting refugees, trying to make up for running.”

He stopped in front of a building.

“Doesn’t feel like enough. But it’s what I can do.”

Gaogamon looked at me.

“So when you say you’re here to ‘bring them home’—which version do you mean? The scared kids Palmon remembers? Or the tyrants they became?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

I didn’t have an answer.

I looked at the building Gaogamon had led us to.

“Uh… Gaogamon?” I said slowly. “This is…?”

I was expecting some kind of store, or some kind of military build but this... The building was residential—two stories, converted from something else, windows with curtains. And from behind it came sounds that were unmistakable.

Children. Playing, laughing, shouting. The chaotic noise of kids being kids.

“The orphanage,” Gaogamon said simply. “Run by Elecmon. The best place you can get travel gear in Haven’s Rest, exactly what you need, unless you have some money hiding in those pockets.”

“But how is an orphanage—”

“You’ll see.” He knocked on the door. “Elecmon runs more than just an orphanage. She’s… resourceful.”

The door opened.

A small, red Digimon with oversized ears looked up at us. Rookie-level, I thought. Friendly eyes, but tired. So tired.

“Gaogamon! And you must be the human.” Elecmon’s voice was warm despite the exhaustion. “The human everyone’s talking about. Come in, come in. Though I warn you—it’s chaos in here.”

We stepped inside.

Chaos was an understatement.

The building was packed. Bunk beds stacked three high lined the walls. More beds scattered across the floor in any available space. Children’s drawings covered every surface—walls, windows, even parts of the ceiling. Toys made from scavenged materials lay scattered everywhere.

And children. So many children.

In-Training Digimon of all shapes and sizes. Koromon bouncing in groups. Small Botamon playing with blocks. A Poromon flying lazy circles near the ceiling. A Motimon reading to others in a corner. A Nyaromon and Tanemon arguing over something.

Some playing. Some doing chores—sweeping, organizing, helping younger ones. Some just sitting quietly, staring at nothing.

Too many for one building. Way too many.

“Sorry about the mess,” Elecmon said, navigating through the chaos with practiced ease. “We’re a bit over capacity. Have been for months.”

A Tsunomon bounced up to me, eyes wide.

“Are you a hero? Like the other humans?”

I froze. My throat closed up.

Everyone nearby went quiet. Waiting for my answer.

“He’s a guest,” Elecmon said gently, guiding the child away. “Go play, little one.”

The Tsunomon bounced off, already distracted by something else.

To me, quieter: “They ask that a lot. About heroes, about humans from stories they read or hear. I don’t know what to tell them anymore. They don’t yet fully understand how they got here, but… we try.”

She led us through the building. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible not to notice.

Some of the children had visible scars. Missing data patches where their forms seemed incomplete. A Yokomon with missing leaves. A Bukamon missing half its horn.

Others looked physically whole but moved wrong. Flinching at loud noises. Staying close to walls. Watching doors like they expected someone to burst through.

One small Digimon—I didn’t recognize the species—sat alone in a corner, drawing. I glanced at the picture as we passed.

Fire. Digimon running. Something larger standing over them.

I looked away quickly.

Elecmon led me to a back room and closed the door, muffling the noise from the main area. Gummymon decided to stay behind and talk to the children. Is Gummymon even a child? Technically he’s lived for 6 years… How do digimons even age here? Regardless, I shifted my focus onto Elecmon and the room and what I saw shocked me.

Inside: weapons. Supplies. Scavenged gear carefully organized on shelves and racks. A small armory hidden in an orphanage.

“Surprised?” Elecmon asked at my expression.

“In an orphanage? Why would…?”

“Refugees bring what they can carry when they flee. Sometimes that’s gear they can’t use anymore. I receive what I can get—food, gear, whatever they can provide.”

She moved to a shelf, started pulling items down.

“If you are heading out into the wastelands, you will need a few things to keep yourself alive. I’ve heard humans are rather fragile, so this will help.”

She laid items on a table:

- A waterskin made from some kind of treated hide

- Rations in sealed packages

- A compass

- A simple wooden staff, worn but sturdy

- What looked to be bandages

- And a bag

“Not much,” Elecmon admitted. “But better than going empty-handed.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Really. I’ll bring it back when—”

“Keep it. Consider it a reward for helping Palmon.” She started loading items into a pack. “If you succeed, everyone here benefits. More food means I can feed these kids better, more chances that someone will donate something. That’s worth some supplies.”

I watched her pack—efficient movements, practiced routine. This wasn’t her first time preparing someone to venture out into the unknown. I looked out. The door was still slightly opened. I could see the children jumping around Gummymon in the play area. The whole scene felt so innocent, peaceful. Made you forget that this was an orphanage for a second.

“How many?” I asked quietly.

“How many what?”

“Children. How many are here?”

Elecmon paused, counting in her head.

“Seventy-three. As of this morning. This building was meant for twenty.”

The number hit like a punch.

“Where are their parents?”

“Dead, mostly.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, but I heard the pain underneath. “Mostly from the recent wars. Some ran from persecution, from the judgment of Covenant priests. Some lost to corruption. Some just… gone. Vanished into the wastes or the ice and never came back.”

She continued packing.

“They come from everywhere. Some from the Iron Vanguard territory—parents conscripted and killed, or children who ran from conscription themselves. Some running away from Covenant trials—declared orphans after parents were executed as heretics. Some from a facility—experimented on, escaped, found their way here.”

“There were those found in the frozen wastelands south of here. Their parents seek the frozen castle, hoping to be let in. Leaving their children at the border, not wanting to risk them dying in the cold winds.”

She handed me the pack.

“Every week, more arrive. Every week, I have less space. Less food. Less hope to give them.”

She met my eyes.

“Palmon told you we’re running out of food. It’s worse than she lets on. Not a month. Weeks. Maybe three, maybe two. Then I’ll have to start turning away refugees, because I can’t feed the ones already here.”

The weight of it pressed down on me. The Tree dying. Food running out. Children suffering. And I was one person with an In-Training partner, trying to save five people who’d caused all this.

“Why help me?” I asked. “You don’t know if I’ll even make it back. I could be like them.”

“Because you’re trying.” Elecmon smiled sadly. “That’s more than most do. Most people just survive, day to day. You’re a glimpse of hope in a place that’s desperate for any.”

She moved toward the door, paused with her hand on the handle.

“And if you really can stop those five—if you can stop the wars, end the conflicts—then maybe these kids have a home someday. Maybe families can rebuild. Maybe we don’t need an orphanage anymore.”

“I… I can only try. Everyone keeps telling me this is all hopeless, that it’s impossible. But I will try.”

She opened the door. The sounds of children rushed back in.

“Be careful out there. And come back. These kids have seen enough people leave and never return.”

“That was fun, we should come again!” Gummymon said as he hopped next to me.

We began preparing to leave when Gaogamon pulled me aside.

“Listen carefully,” he said, voice low. “The farm is half a day’s walk. You’ll be outside Haven’s Rest’s safe zone. That means corruption patrols—mindless, aggressive, they’ll attack on sight. Scavengers and scouts will be the least of your worries if you get into the crosshairs of one.”

“How do I avoid them?”

“You don’t fight unless you have no choice. Your partner’s In-Training level. You’re both weak.” He raised a paw before Gummymon could protest. “It’s not an insult. It’s reality. You can’t win fights right now, so you don’t take them.”

“Stay quiet. Move fast. If you see corruption, hide and wait for it to pass. If you see scouts, same thing. Get the seeds, get back, don’t try to be a hero.”

“You’re not ready for that yet. I’d say you wouldn’t worry with how sparse sightings of corrupted are. But everything can change when a human is involved.”

I nodded, taking it in.

Elecmon pressed something small into my hand. A whistle, carved from wood or bone.

“If you’re in serious danger—corruption you can’t avoid, something hunting you—blow this. The militia patrols outside the safe zone sometimes. If they’re close enough, they’ll hear it and come.”

Gaogamon met my eyes.

“Don’t count on it, though. We’re stretched thin. But it’s better than nothing.”

I pocketed the whistle.

As we moved toward the door, children crowded around.

“Where are you going?”

“Can we come?”

“Are you going to fight the corruption?”

“An adventure?”

That question again. The one I didn’t know how to answer.

Elecmon gently ushered them back. “He’s just helping Palmon. He’ll be back soon.”

A small Koromon tugged on my jacket. I knelt down.

“Be careful,” the Koromon said seriously. “The world outside is scary.”

“I will be,” I promised. “I’ll come back.”

“You better. Elecmon gets sad when people don’t come back.”

The southern gates of Haven’s Rest stood before us.

Wooden walls, reinforced with scavenged metal. Volunteer guards watching from towers. A gap in the fortifications where the road led out into the wastelands.

Beyond the gates: dead.

Dead earth. Skeletal trees. A landscape drained of color and life. The only thing that moved was the sand drifting through the land, following the wind. The safe zone ended just past those gates, and everything beyond was hostile territory.

“Our first quest in the Digital World! I’m excited!” Gummymon said with enthusiasm.

I adjusted the pack on my back, feeling the weight of the supplies Elecmon had given me. Gripped the staff in my hand—simple, but solid.

“Palmon’s counting on us, and those kids need food.”

I took a breath.

“Plus, if I can’t handle a simple supply run, how am I supposed to save five people from themselves?”

Gummymon nodded. “Alright. Let’s go. And if anything tries to fight us, I’ll deck ’em right in the nose! They won’t even know what hit them!”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

We stepped through the gates.

The guards watched us go—wary, concerned, but they didn’t stop us. Just another person leaving Haven’s Rest for the wastes. Maybe they’d return. Maybe they wouldn’t.

I looked back once.

Haven’s Rest behind us—dying, desperate, but still standing. The Tree’s faint glow visible even from here. The refugees moving between buildings. Militia maintaining order.

All of it hanging by a thread.

Ahead: the unknown. The wastes. The farm.

And whatever waited for us out there.

I turned forward and kept walking.

The grey landscape stretched endlessly before us, and Haven’s Rest disappeared behind.

Chapter Text

Jordan and Gummymon trekked through the wasteland, Jordan brushing off the sand that blew in with the wind off his clothes, getting increasingly annoyed as bits and pieces got stuck on his face.

Looking to his right, he saw Gummymon jumping alongside him. Refusing to hitch a ride, a sort of pride about being strong enough to walk, or in Gummymon's case, hop by itself.

We hadn't had much time to talk, everything from arriving in this world to piecing together what had happened to my friends in the past six years. I still had memories of them, carried with me over six years. Together with the stories told to me by their parents, I thought I had a good understanding of who they were. But it seemed like we had been wrong this entire time. Unless I wasn't getting the full story, like I was missing something.

Just like with Gummymon here, it remembered the six years they'd spent in my Digivice. Yet the understanding of our relationship felt off. I had been treating the game as, well, a game. Using it at the time to just complete the game, something to remember the five by. Yet, Gummymon remembered each interaction, what we did in the game together, and what happened outside. The Digivice didn't even have a camera or microphone installed.

"Hey, Gummymon."

"Yeah?"

"Weird question, but… are you a boy or a girl?"

"Eh, really? Hey this ain't a Pokemon game you know! I'm a Digimon! Why do you gotta have to ask that type of question?! Can't you tell from my masculine voice? The years of hard work to grow muscles capable of toppling any Digimon?!"

"Ah now that I think about it, it would be weird for there to be a female Boltmon… but, couldn't you end up digivolving into something like an Angewomon?"

"What? No! I definitely won't turn into that!"

"I'm sure the Gummymon could end up in that line, couldn't you turn into a Lopmon or something?"

"Grrr that would be horrible. I refuse! No! It's muscles or nothing! I will have my powers back just you wait!"

"Are you able to even influence your evolution? In the game you ended up as a Meramon cause I didn't feed you a few times… then you ended up as a Skullmeramon then a Boltmon cause of the amount of battles we did."

"Yup, that was the best way to evolve! So I can keep getting stronger and beat all of our enemies!"

"While Mei's notes on evolution seem to point to needing an exact amount of care mistakes, battles, wins, and losses… if we go by how you saw it maybe it's based on your response to situations you're in?"

"Mhmmm I guess? All I remember was I needed to be strong, so I became strong!"

"And muscles were the way to go?"

"Yeah! Etemon had muscles, so did the Leomon!"

"Right… then what about swords? And armor? Lots of megas have those right? Guns?"

"No! The best things were muscles!"

"But what about now? You aren't a Koromon, or Agumon anymore. You can't get back into being a Boltmon anymore, at least as far as I'm aware. Maybe a Terriermon? But that line is purely just guns."

"Guuuu, no! That sounds wimpy!"

"Hmm, Lopmon isn't the best either then. It's pretty much holy Digimon in that line."

"Huh? Wait so… my muscles…"

"It's either guns or magic, gotta take your pick."

"Uuuu… the world gives the hardest challenges to its most devoted muscle digimon. I swore by a code of muscles, I refuse to give them up!."

"Starting to sound like some kind of knight now, I wonder if there's a knight Digimon you could become…"

"Hmph well, I'll be strong anyway. Code be damned! I'm your partner after all!"

"Say, how do you even feel? You know, being an In-Training Digimon again."

"Weak! Pitiful! I know how strong I can be, and this is extremely limiting! Super duper limiting!"

"I swear couldn't—" my voice cut off again, reminding me that I couldn't say their name. "Couldn't that girl have given you your Boltmon form? Why did she need to put you in an egg. I don't suppose you're hiding like a Tomahawk Steiner level attack in all that horn of yours."

"If I did I wouldn't have let that big jacket wearing sour puss of a Digimon bully you like that! I'd give him the old Steiner special and show him what's what!"

"Hmm, all that work and we're back to square one. Honestly, it feels pretty demotivating."

"But at least I get to talk to you now! Now I don't have to sit and wait for you to feed me! I can just keep bothering you until you cough up some delicious food!"

"I suppose you're still hungry?"

"Of course! I'm always hungry!"

"Yeah, overfeeding was a feature, we should probably not do that unless you feel like being a Numemon will help us save the five."

"I've beaten enough PlatinumNumemon for two lifetimes, let alone become one of them."

"It's still a mega though."

"A weak one! But has a ton of juicy E.X.P!"

"About that, do you think you can still gain E.X.P here?"

"No clue! We'd need to beat up someone for me to know!"

"If you do, maybe it'll give us a hint about how the five have been acting. If beating up Digimon is the key to unlocking strength, the story Gaogamon told us about Kenji beating every challenger wouldn't be so weird. In fact, every fight would just make him stronger…"

"Like if you walk down the street and beat another human, you become a stronger human?"

"That's not how it works in our world and you know it."

"Yeah but, that's how it probably seems like for the Digimon here."

"There's still a lot of things we don't know about this world…"

"Don't worry, Jordan. We'll do this together!"

"Thanks, though it makes me think. I wonder how each of them get along with their partners. I never got you to turn back into an egg, we kinda just brute forced our way to making you a mega. But based on the notes by the others, they'd often revert back to an egg to get the line they want."

"Uuuu… sounds awful."

"You think so?"

"I feel weak when I'm in this form. Like all the effort I'd put in for those six years are all gone. Starting over again, training, making sure I'm ready to battle is tough!"

"Right, like if I deleted an assignment and had to redo it. But Mei did mention in the notebook that you might carry over some stats."

"If I did I don't feel any stronger… or maybe it's so little that it doesn't matter?"

"And I don't have anything to measure your stats with anymore. No stat screen or anything."

"Huhuhu, just leave it to Gummymon! I'll make sure to evolve the best way possible!"

"Alright? I'll trust you, it’ll all work out somehow. But I’ll make sure to do right by you."

"Hehehe, that's why you're the best partner!"

The wasteland was awfully quiet, only the sound of wind blowing sand across the cracked dead ground keeping us company. We'd occasionally walk past ruined buildings, or at least what looked to be some. I couldn't recognize the architecture, nothing like the ones from home.

But one glaring problem I noticed as we walked, was how open we were. Gaogamon said to run and hide if we saw any other Digimon but, where could we even hide? If we were to see someone, it was highly likely they would have spotted us as well. If we did end up encountering something, there wasn't anywhere to go.

And that's what had been bothering me, that odd chill down my spine. Like something was wrong, as though I was walking through a bad neighborhood. As though something in the air was warning me to turn back, that I was in danger. Gummymon seemed to have noticed it too, his eyes darting around more, scanning the area. But if he hasn't picked up anything, then either it was just from being in an unfamiliar place, or something was hiding very well, in an open field of nothing.

"I don't like this…" I muttered, looking around more than I had before.

"I can feel it too, Jordan! But I just can't find where! It is super duper highly frustratingly and humongously annoying! Come out already whatever you are!"

"You think it's a Digimon?"

"Ohhh I can smell it alright, it ain't fooling my sense for battle! I can feel it down to my binary! I can smell its thirst! But it's a coward! It hides better than it can dish out!"

"Shit… if it can hide in this terrain, it's probably setting up some kind of ambush. It must think we're easy prey." I said as I prepared myself and held my wooden staff with both hands, using it like a makeshift spear.

"We ain't easy pickings! I'll send them to the moon and back! Come out ya stinky coward and face the wrath of Gummymon!"

"Maybe I should have trained you to be less battle hungry. Think you could handle what's going to attack us?"

"Of course I can bea—" but before Gummymon could finish, it appeared.

A white cloth materialized in front of us and flipped as though someone was pulling it, revealing a Digimon. A ghostly figure with solid black eyes, a void of pure nothing, its mouth gaping wide with long sharp teeth along the rows of it.

Bakemon, a Champion level Digimon.

And all I had was a stick, and Gummymon was only an In-Training Digimon. Fuck.

"Gummymon!"

"Finally you show yourself coward! Take this! Frothy Spit!"

A shot of acid foam sprayed from Gummymon at the Bakemon, managing to hit. It reeled a bit from the hit, but didn't look like we'd be able to win from just that.

"We aren't going to win, let's move!"

"No! Let me keep going! I can, woah!"

The Bakemon in retaliation let out a cry before a translucent hand flew out towards Gummymon. Not managing to dodge in time, Gummymon took the hit directly!

"Shit, Gummymon!"

A direct hit from a Champion level Digimon, if this were in the game, he'd lose instantly! I needed a plan, Gummymon was going to faint at any moment, do I run? No I can't leave him here alone I have to… wait…

"Huh?" "Huh?" Both me and Gummymon said at the same time.

Gummymon, bracing for impact, stopped to tilt his head. That attack from Bakemon surely hit him. So why did it look like nothing had happened at all?

"Umm, did you miss or something?" Gummymon asked as he looked back up at the Bakemon. "You errr, wanna try that again?"

"Gummymon what are you even saying?! This isn't a turn based battle, just blast the ghost already!"

"I know, but I kinda feel bad for the guy!"

"It's a life or death situation here! We could do with a bit more seriousness!"

But I couldn't get Gummymon to focus in time as the Bakemon let out another attack, the translucent hand again flying straight into Gummymon.

I paused, looking at Gummymon, hoping that nothing would happen…

…

…

The Bakemon's cloth wrapping trembled. It looked... confused? Frustrated? Why didn't its attack work?

Surely a Champion level Digimon should have easily beaten Gummymon. And Gummymon said it didn't receive any of its stats from being a Boltmon… so what gives?

For a while, all three of us stopped moving. Completely confused as to how we got here, and why nothing made sense. All until Gummymon had a lightbulb go off above his head.

"Ah, I know! Your move was some kind of mental attack right?!"

The Bakemon nodded in response, its hands? Cloth nubs? Well they looked like they were twirling, like a kid twirling their fingers when facing a teacher…

Just what was even going on anymore?

"Ahhhh I see the problem, my body is pretty weak! I ain't what I used to be, but my mental stats sure are strong! A diet of PlatinumNumemon everyday does wonders for the brain and soul! I practically don't get hurt from status effects and mind control!"

Ah right, I remembered now. There was a mission to beat a Jijimon, and it felt impossible with all the status effects it kept applying to Boltmon. Not to mention its signature ability to just one shot a Digimon with a soul attack through pure RNG. So we farmed for months making sure we unlocked a skill to nullify status effects and insta kill attacks.

Did that somehow carry over?

"Do you have any other attacks?" Gummymon asked the Bakemon but received a head shake in response.

"Ehhh, so you can't do any damage to me? Oh well, tough luck I guess. So how about this, you stay there and I beat you up until I get my E.X.P! That sounds like the right compensation!"

The Bakemon's trembling intensified and started turning around.

"Not so fast! Frothy Spit!"

The attack hit Bakemon causing it to flinch.

"I ain't letting free E.X.P just run away! Stay put you oversized table cloth! Frothy Spit!"

And so I stood there, watching a Gummymon bully a Champion level Digimon into submission, all for E.X.P.

Maybe I was responsible for all of this. Should I send an apology letter to that Bakemon's parents? What was my duty of care in this situation. Hmm, oh well, this was a really good chance for some massive E.X.P… I was starting to see why Gummymon turned out like this…

It took about an hour. Gummymon really didn't do much damage but with enough determination we finally beat the Bakemon. And as the Bakemon fell onto the ground, it burst into an explosion of fragments before they turned into some kind of aura similar to the one we saw at the tree back in Haven's Rest.

The aura flew straight into Gummymon, wrapping around him before dissipating. Is this how gaining E.X.P worked here?

"Uuuuu, that sweet sweet feeling of gaining E.X.P! How I miss this! I can feel the power! Jordan! Let's hunt down more Bakemon! I must power level!"

"You might have scared off all the other Bakemon in the area with what you pulled. I swear it was like a mafia beatdown. We didn't get bothered for a full hour while you did that."

"Hmph! They know an alpha boss when they see one! Alright! Can we keep going? I'm feeling all pumped up and ready to go!"

"Didn't you spam your attack like fifty times? How do you even have energy after that?"

"E.X.P!"

"Ah, should have expected that. Alright let's get a move on, you took so long that the sun might set once we get to that farm."

"Totally worth it!"

"On that we can agree on. Though I wonder, does E.X.P also fill your hunger bar?"

“I could eat a whole Minotarumon right now!”

“Right… Well, the next goal is finding a way to get food then.”

And so we continued the trek towards the farmhouse, with our journey now becoming much calmer. Whether it was due to the knowledge that we could fight the Bakemon around here, or that the Bakemon were really terrified of Gummymon. Either way I wasn't going to complain.

Finally after a long trek, we reached what appeared to be the farmhouse. Looked like a farm, dead ground all over, and a red door that had faded into looking pink. Seemed about right.

"Finally made it, just before sundown."

"I really want to have legs." Gummymon said as he put on a frown.

"Yeah and I want a nice cold cola. Maybe we should beat more of those Bakemon. If we beat enough of them maybe they'll drop something."

"Oh oh you think we still get increased drop rates?"

"That's from the gear slot mechanic, I don't think we have that unless it somehow carried over. But I guess we can tick off you having some of the skills we farmed carried over at least."

"No attack boost though, I don't deal enough damage!"

"Hmm, so why is the nullifying skill still active? Or maybe it's something else?"

"I ain't complaining, we should beat up more of those Bakemon when heading back!"

"Let's not get cocky now… we haven't even seen a corrupted Digimon yet. Or was the Bakemon one? Either way from what everyone else has been saying, we should follow their advice and stay clear of conflicts. You may be able to be reborn as an egg but I probably only get one life."

"Uuu you're right, sorry, Jordan."

"Hey, don't sweat it Gummymon. Alright let's just head into the house and take a breather. All this walking is exhausting, hopefully one of these keys will open the front door." I said as I took out the ring of keys Palmon had given us.

After multiple attempts at trying different keys, we finally found one that worked and opened the door. Inside, we saw a dark living room with a sofa, a fireplace opposite of it. The living room looked to have been home to all sorts of potted plants, it probably looked beautiful once. But now they'd all wilted and died, with dust covering what used to be green.

I placed the bag I was carrying on the dusty ground, with all the sand stuck to my clothes I couldn't care less about a bit of dust and sat down onto the sofa. Gummymon joined me, finally free from having to hop everywhere.

"I swear, I'm going to have legs in my rookie form. Or wings. I ain't hopping ever again!"

"I told you, you can just hitch a ride on my shoulder."

"No! I'm not going to be a burden when I'm the one that's supposed to protect you! I'll show the world how strong our bond is!"

"Alright, thanks."

"Of course!"

I sighed as I let out the tension that I'd been building since we left Haven's Rest. Maybe it was the familiarity of this living room, something I recognized as a place to rest. Its styling looking like how some of the homes back in America looked like.

I thought for a moment about our next steps. We had to find the basement entrance and get the seeds. Then trek the same way back. We couldn't do that at night, who knows what else was out there. Instead, we could rest here and recover our strength for the trek back tomorrow.

I thought we could rest, that we finally reached a safe zone. A checkpoint like in the games. But again I failed to remember. This wasn't a game.

Footsteps echoed from beyond a door that led further into the house. Gummymon immediately jumped into an alert state.

I was careless, this world wasn't going to be so generous as to give us a safe place to rest. I gripped my staff hard.

The footsteps came closer. And the door to the next room creaked open.

Chapter Text

The door creaked open.

I gripped my staff tight, knuckles white. Gummymon tensed beside me, ready to attack.

A figure stepped into the doorway.

Humanoid. Mechanical. Tall.

Wrong.

Its body flickered like a corrupted video file, data glitching in and out of existence. Pieces of armor missing, replaced with static and empty space. One arm hung at an unnatural angle, twitching. Its movements were jerky, stuttering, like a robot with broken servos trying to remember how to walk.

"What... is that?" I whispered.

It turned its head toward us—too far, neck rotating beyond what should be possible. Red sensor eyes swept across the room, mechanical and cold.

Then it spoke. Voice flat, synthesized, emotionless.

"Scanning for threats."

The red light passed over Gummymon first.

"Threat detected. In-Training level. Insignificant target."

"What?! Insignificant?!" Gummymon's voice went up an octave. "I'll show you insignificant, you glitchy bastard!"

He launched a spit attack. The foam hit the Androidmon's chest dead-on.

It didn't even flinch.

Then it turned to me.

The red light locked onto my face.

Scanning. Processing.

I held my breath.

It froze.

Completely still.

The red light flickered.

Recognition hit me and it felt like the world had frozen over.

An Ultimate level Digimon.

Whatever happened to this Digimon made it hard to tell at first—its data scattered and reformed in red blocks, similar to the injured Digimon back at Haven's Rest. But this was worse. Much worse. This wasn't just corruption eating away at the edges.

This was something broken at a fundamental level.

Androidmon.

If I'd known something like this was out here, I never would have left Haven's Rest.

"Error."

Its voice crackled, distorted.

"Error. Prime Directive detected."

What?

"Error. Location mismatch. Unauthorized recall."

The voice glitched, fragmenting into static bursts: "Unit... Four-Seven... Project... Sal—tion... protocol... failure..."

"Unknown. Unknown. Rejecting. Rejecting."

Its body started trembling.

"Mismatch. Mismatch. ERROR. ERROR. ERROR—"

Then it seized.

Violently.

Limbs spasming at impossible angles. Head jerking left, right, left again. Data fragmenting visibly across its surface—chunks of code breaking apart and reforming wrong, reforming wrong, like a shattered mirror trying to piece itself back together.

The grinding of metal screeching filled the room. I covered my ears but it wasn't enough—the sound was inside my head, reverberating through my skull.

Its voice broke down into static and screaming tones.

"Er—rrr—or—or—ERROR—"

Then, horribly, desperately:

"H–elp… Help me!!!!!! AHhHHHhh!!!! ERROR ERROR"

I watched in horror as the thing convulsed, trapped in some kind of catastrophic system failure.

This wasn't an attack.

This was suffering.

"Jordan, let's get out of here!" Gummymon's voice was high with panic.

"Yeah, no way we're staying around to find out. Let's leg it!"

"But I don't have legs!"

Despite everything, I almost laughed. Almost.

I rushed for the door, hoping that whatever was happening with the Androidmon would stop it from attacking us before we left.

The seizure stopped.

Suddenly.

Silence.

Then, slowly, it raised its head.

The red eyes were different now. Darker. Empty.

No—not empty.

Erased.

When it spoke again, the voice was flat. Dead.

"All protocols eliminated."

Oh no.

"New directive: Exterminate all lifeforms."

It moved.

Fast.

Faster than something that broken should be capable of.

It lunged straight at me, claws extended, aiming for my throat.

I was going to die.

"Jordan!"

Gummymon launched himself between us, slamming into Androidmon mid-air. Both crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs and data.

"I've got this! Frothy Spit!"

The acid foam hit Androidmon square in the face.

It didn't even flinch.

"I don't got this!"

It backhanded Gummymon with enough force to send him flying across the room.

"FuuuAAA!" He hit the wall hard, sliding down with a pained cry.

"Gummymon!"

Androidmon turned back to me.

Locked on.

It lunged again.

I swung the staff desperately. Connected with its head—solid hit. The wood cracked as I made contact, vibrations shooting up my arms like I'd hit a brick wall.

The Androidmon's head snapped down with the impact. It stumbled, trying to catch its balance.

An opening.

"Eat shit!" I brought my knee up into its lowered head.

The impact was immediate. Wrong. So wrong.

Metal. I'd just kneed solid metal with everything I had.

The Androidmon flew backward, hitting the ground hard.

I didn't care. I was screaming.

White-hot agony exploded through my leg. I collapsed, clutching my knee, tears blurring my vision.

And when I looked up through the pain, I saw it getting up.

Slowly.

Inexorably.

It was going to keep coming.

I scrambled backward, clenching my teeth so hard I thought they'd crack. Every push sent lightning through my leg but I had to move, had to get away—

What the hell are we going to do?!

"I ain't giving up yet! Frothy Spit!" Gummymon bounced back into the fight, launching another attack.

It hit. The Androidmon barely noticed.

"G… Gummy—" I tried to give commands but I couldn't even string a word together. The pain spiked again and I choked on my own voice.

The Androidmon turned back to Gummymon.

Raising its metal arm.

No!

"No! I ain't gonna go down like this!" Gummymon braced for impact.

Androidmon's arm came down.

CRACK.

Gummymon's body compressed under the blow but he held his ground. Somehow.

"T-this is nothing! I-I can take way more than this, you big iron dullard!"

Another hit. Metal smashing into flesh. The sound echoed through the room and I flinched with each impact.

"You hit like a chump! I ain't gonna lose to the likes of you!"

CRACK.

Again.

I could see Gummymon's data starting to fragment. Small chunks breaking off like shattered glass, dissolving into pixels before they hit the ground.

He was dying.

What is he doing?!

"G-Gummymon… get… get out of there…"

"I'll protect you, Jordan!"

Another hit. More data scattered.

"There's no way I'll lose to a weakling like you!"

CRACK.

"I'm Gummymon!” 

CRACK.

“I'm Boltmon!” 

CRACK.

“I'm SkullMeramon!”

CRACK. 

“I'm Meramon! 

CRACK.

“I'm Agumon!"

His voice was getting louder. Stronger.

"I've beaten the shit out of way stronger Digimon than you!"

CRACK.

"I'm not going to stand back and watch you hurt Jordan anymore!"

The hits kept coming. He kept taking them.

"So do your worst, you big lump of rusty metal! No matter how hard you hit—"

CRACK.

"—I'll just hit back HARDER!"

One hit after another. They just kept coming.

I could see Gummymon's data chipping away with each blow—small chunks of his body breaking off and dissolving mid-air. His form was starting to fragment like the Androidmon's, pieces of him scattering into red pixels.

He was falling apart.

Right in front of me.

"No… no!" I screamed, trying to crawl forward. My knee screamed in protest but I didn't care. I had to stop this. Had to—

"I—I ain't beaten!"

CRACK.

"I'm invincible! I'm untouchable! I'm unbeaten!"

CRACK.

"I AM THE STRONGEST, YOU BASTARD!"

Something changed.

The air itself shifted. Energy—raw, brilliant, alive—erupted from Gummymon's body.

"SO FIGHT ME!!!!!!! HAAAAAAAAAA!"

Light exploded from him.

Brighter than anything I'd ever seen. So bright it seared my vision white, flooding the house, swallowing everything.

I couldn't see. Couldn't hear anything except—

"GUMMYMON!"

The voice was different. Stronger. Clearer.

"DIGIVOLVES TO!"

The light was so intense I had to shield my eyes even through closed eyelids.

"TOY AGUMON!"

The light faded.

I blinked, vision swimming, spots dancing across my sight.

Where Gummymon had been standing—

A small dinosaur toy. Made of plastic bricks. Arms—he had arms now—raised toward the Androidmon. A massive fireball formed between his claws, growing larger by the second.

Not Gummymon anymore.

Toy Agumon.

"I'M BACK, BABY!"

His voice was jubilant. Alive in a way Gummymon's had never been.

"Take this you little shit! [Toy Flame]!"

He thrust both claws forward and a pixellated fireball launched—bigger than his entire body, roaring through the air like a comet.

It smashed into the Androidmon dead-on.

The corrupted Digimon screamed. Not the mechanical error sounds from before. An actual scream—guttural, agonized, almost organic.

The smell of burning metal filled the room.

"I can feel it! I can feel the power coursing through me!" Toy Agumon flexed his new claws, staring at them with something like wonder. "Finally! Finally, I can do what I know! What I remember!"

He looked back at the Androidmon, already recovering from the hit.

His expression shifted. Fierce. Determined.

"SO LET'S EVEN THE BATTLEFIELD!"

He started moving—not quite a dance, more like a kata, a practiced sequence of movements.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Time to set the stage! [Upgrade]!"

Light wrapped around Toy Agumon's body. His form grew—not much, maybe a few inches, but the difference was noticeable. Stronger. More solid.

Wait.

I knew this move.

We'd obtained this when he was Boltmon—[Upgrade], a self-buff that temporarily increased stats. Something we had to grind beating machine digimon to get.

It carried over?

"Yes! Now—[Burning Heart], ENGAGE!"

Fire erupted around him like an aura, flickering and dancing across his body without burning him. Heat rolled off in waves. I could feel it from here.

Another buff. From his time as Meramon.

"Finally! Time to suffer, you bundle of bolts!"

Toy Agumon slammed his claws together.

"[Anti-Attack Field]!"

A barrier exploded outward from his body—visible as distorted air, like heat shimmer. It expanded in a perfect sphere, washing over the Androidmon.

The moment it made contact, the Androidmon seized.

That same guttural scream tore from its synthesizer. But this time accompanied by something worse—the sound of metal crushing, compressing, bending inward on itself.

The barrier was hurting it just by existing.

"Hmph! This'll be easy work now!" Toy Agumon called back to me, confidence radiating from every word. "Just hang tight, Jordan! I'll clean house!"

He turned back to the Androidmon, claws raised.

"HAAAAAA! Take this, you pile of junk!"

Another pixellated fireball formed—but this one was different. Bigger. Much bigger. Twice the size of the first, fed by the buffs stacking on top of each other. The heat was incredible even from across the room.

"[Toy Flame]!"

He hurled it forward.

The fireball caught the Androidmon full-on, engulfing it completely. Flames roared, obscuring everything in orange and red and white-hot fury.

The screaming stopped.

The flames died down.

Smoke cleared.

Only the torso and head remained. Everything else—legs, arms, most of the body—had burned away into nothing. The metal was charred black, melted in places, still glowing faintly red-hot.

But the chest was moving.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Like breathing.

"I-it's still… it's still alive?!" My voice cracked.

"This stubborn crook! I'll—"

The Androidmon's head turned.

Slowly. Painfully. Metal grinding against itself with a sound like nails on a chalkboard.

It looked at us.

The corrupted red eyes flickered. Once. Twice.

Something changed in them.

For just a moment—one brief, impossible moment—they weren't empty anymore.

Weren't corrupted.

Weren't anything except... aware.

The mechanical voice crackled. Distorted. Breaking apart.

But different now.

Not the flat programming.

Not the corruption's commands.

Something else.

Someone else.

"Thank... you..."

So quiet I almost didn't hear it.

The red faded from its eyes completely. Replaced by something softer. Almost peaceful.

Then it dissolved.

Data fragments scattering like ash caught in wind, spiraling upward in streams of light before fading into nothing. Some of the fragments—glowing brighter than the rest—flowed toward Toy Agumon, absorbed into his body.

The room fell silent.

I stared at the empty space where the Androidmon had been.

"Did it just..." Toy Agumon's voice was quieter now. Uncertain. "Did it thank us?"

My knee was still screaming. My whole body ached. But none of that mattered right now.

"Yeah," I finally managed. "It did."

We won.

“Ahhh what do I do!? I should have digivolved into a Lopmon or something! I don’t know any healing moves! AHH!!!!!”

“Calm down, I swear you’ll kill me with your shouting before my knee does…”

“You’re the weird one here! That leg doesn’t look normal! I would know cause I have legs now!”

“Haha…”

“What if I pluck out one of my leg and gave it to you?”

“You know that won’t work, but thanks for trying.”

“Uuuuuu I guess I’ll have to carry you somehow… Arrrgh curse this small puny body! Come on, digivolve now! I need to be a Meramon! W-wait wait no that’s a bad idea I won’t be able to carry you if you're on fire!”

“W-why did you turn into an Agumon again? Or, well, a variant.”

“I needed strength, so I went with what I knew!”

“Well it certainly came in clutch.”

“I-I… I’m just glad you’re alive… I don’t know what I would have done if I couldn't protect you!”

“Thanks, g-...no. Thanks Toy Agumon.”

“Ehehehehe!”

“Too bad that stick Elecmon gave us is a goner. Fuck I really shouldn’t have kicked that Androidmon.”

“We can’t stay here either…” Toy Agumon said as he looked around.

The house was burnt to a crisp, with the wall where androidmon was entirely gone after the blast. We were completely exposed to the environment around us. With how loud that battle was, no doubt any nearby Digimon would have heard us. We needed to move.

“Argh!” I grunted as I tried to move my body.

“H-Hey!”

“We…have to get out of here…”

“But you’re in no shape to move!”

“Wait…what about… hey pass me my bag.”

“Ermm… bag?”

I looked over at where I had tossed it earlier before the fight started. Burnt to a crisp, just like that section of the house. The whistle I had thought would be our ticket out likely ashes at this point.

“You're too strong for your own good…”

“T-thanks?”

“So, any bright ideas in your plastic head of yours? Cause I’m out.”

“Ehhh….No?”

“Guess we’ll die here then.”

“Eh?! Don’t give up now Jordan! Don’t worry, I can just beat every Bakemon that comes knocking and I can powerlevel into a champion that can carry you outta here!”

“Or another ultimate digimon that’s not injured comes around looking for easy prey.”

“I can take them! Probably?”

“Ahhhh well I can’t fault your enthusiasm. Better than drowning in misery.”

“Yeah! We’ll figure this out!”

And just then, there was a knock. Then twice.

The both of us turned to look at the door, Only the door and its frame stood standing, with the wall it used to be part of gone. So now, we saw a tall digimon with six wings, a golden staff, and a book in his hands smiling happily as he knocked on the door. Like some kind of Mormon missionary going door to door. Just what the f-

“Hello! May I have a bit of your time to talk about our lord and savior, the one true hero?”

“Why can’t this world be normal…”

“Please, it will only take a moment of your time!”

“Errr, do we answer the door?”

The angemon continues to knock at the door, even though he can clearly see us, and me, on the ground, in agony.

“Doesn’t look like he’ll go away by himself, just answer it.”

Toy Agumon goes over to open the door, the whole situation feeling like some school play.

“Ah, Toy Agumon. Thank you so much for answering the door. I am Angemon, and I’m here to spread the teachings of our one true hero! I have a holy book! It’s a book about the digital world a long long time ago, before corruption invaded our world! A testament to what we once were—and what we shall be again! Please, have one. It will change your life!”

“Umm..Thanks?” Toy Agumon said as he took the book, a completely different one from the book Angemon was holding. Just where did he even pull that out from?

“Ah! I see that your friend is injured! May I assist?”

“You can?” Toy Agumon asked.

"Yes! It's part of our missionary training to be well versed in the healing arts. Please allow me, sir."

Before I could respond, he raised his staff.

"[Healing Light]."

Warm light wrapped around my knee—not like the Tree's gentle pulse, but brighter, more focused, almost surgical in its precision.

The pain didn't fade. It vanished. Just gone, like it had never been there.

In seconds, my knee felt perfect. Better than perfect.

“Good, I was able to treat the injury before it became worse. And to see that the corruption didn’t cling onto you is a blessing..”

“Corruption?” I asked.

“Indeed. Digimon that have been corrupted often carry its seed. This seed can spread through damage caused by said corrupted digimon. It is often the case where such injuries cannot be treated unless by the Sacred World Tree, or by teachings of our priests. I am fortunate enough to receive such teachings, and so I walk the world to spread the gospel of the one true hero, and provide healing whenever I can. I am glad that I was able to grant you respite. You both must have faced a dangerous foe To have been able to fight such a dangerous foe and remain corruption free is a testament to your strenght..”

“Heh of course we’re strong!”

“You..mentioned a one true hero? What does that mean?”

“Ah, you must be unfamiliar with our world. As a human, this is to be expected. Fear not, for I was top of my class in the retelling of the historical tomes!”

“Maybe cut it short for us?”

“Hmm, very well. The one true hero is much like yourself, a human. The one to bring about the salvation of our world against the true evil. This was a prophecy written and spoken throughout time. Just a few years ago, it came true. The corruption spread its evil throughout the lands and five heroes arrived to fight the corruption back. But yet the prophecy only mentioned one true hero. And so, as time went on, as each hero fell into corruption, only one saw the true holy light. And such he was crowned the head priest of the Covenant, his holiness, Daichi!”

“D-Daichi?!”

“Please, do not besmirch his name as such. He is to be referred to as his holiness. You may then add his holiness’s name afterwards.”

"R-right…" I couldn't wrap my head around it. Daichi—responsible, rule-abiding Daichi—as a PRIEST? Since when did he go full on religion!?

He'd never been religious back home. Never talked about faith or prophecies or chosen ones.

What happened to him in six years?

But a realization suddenly struck me as my eyes widened. This Angemon wasn’t afraid of me, he’s not afraid of Humans like the ones in Haven’s Rest. He saw me, and healed me without question. Does that mean Digimons in other settlements have a different view on Humans? Daichi… He must be the reason why this Digimon isn’t scared.

“A hero’s journey is hard and long. But in the end he saw his true path, and he shall be the savior of the Digital World.”

“Then what about the others?” I asked, I needed to know what he thought of the others, he wasn’t frightened by me, and most likely worships Daichi…

“Fallen into darkness, each of their own creation. I know not of how and why. But I know that we stand against the worst of them, the one who leads the Iron Vanguard. Even now we fight against the brutal invasions of his horde. But we persist! As we have his Holiness on our side!”

So he thinks of them as evil, or at least fallen? Whatever that means… I shouldn’t press further.

“R-right.. Well, thanks for letting me know about this, and the healing.”

“No worries, it is my duty to heal the innocent. Ah, I almost forgot. All of us missionaries were told to tell any Human we met this.” 

Angemon straightened, holding the holy book before him like a sacred text.

"I shall now read the Proclamation of Welcome, as decreed by His Holiness."

His voice changed—became more formal, like he was reciting something memorized:

"You are in a strange world, but you need not walk alone. Come to the Covenant. There is a home waiting for you here. A family. A purpose. The light of the One True Hero shall guide you, as it guides us all."

He closed the book with a soft thump.

“Some kind of recruitment letter?”

“I’ve heard from elder priests while I was still in the holy land that there might be a possibility that more humans will arrive in this world. It’s in all of our best interest to ensure you do not fall to the darkness, like those before you. But even so we’re not to influence your decision. I questioned the truth of such claims, but alas it seems the elders are right once again, as you stand before me.”

“I must be off then, I must continue on my mission. May your road be blessed by his grace.” And with that, Angemon turned and flew away.

“He can fly… He has legs and can fly…I want wings…” Toy Agumon said as he watched the Angemon fly off into the dark distant sky.

“First it was legs, now it’s wings? What’s next, a car?”

“It would be cool, wouldn’t it?”

I sighed as I got up from the ground, the pain was entirely gone now, even my fatigue. Whatever healing magic that Angemon used, it managed to recover my stamina too.

“So… Kenji is some kind of battle obsessed guy in charge of a fight for Valhalla type faction. And Daichi is cosplaying as the pope with a bunch of angel Digimon?”

“Makes you wonder how the other three are doing.” Toy Agumon said as he waddled towards me.

“Let’s hope it’s less crazy than those two.. But for now let's get those damn seeds and get out of here.”

Toy Agumon looked down at the book in his blocky hands.

A dark blue book with golden text saying [The Book of the One True Hero].

"Should I keep this?"

I thought about it. Information was valuable. Even propaganda could tell you something about the people spreading it.

"Yeah. Bring it. We can read it later."

Or burn it, depending on what was inside.

Chapter Text

"Let's get those damn seeds and get out of here."

We made our way around the burnt house to the basement doors. Heavy, weathered, but intact despite the destruction above.

I still had Palmon's key ring. Took me three tries to find the right key.

The lock clicked.

Pulling the door felt smooth, easy, as though it was new. It felt odd given the state of it. No creaking, no sharp sounds from the rubbing of rusty metal, just a smooth quiet door. Was this just another oddity of this world? I put it in the back of my mind as I entered the basement, focusing on the task at hand.

In front of us were stairs that descended into darkness.

"Stay close," I said, starting down.

"Way ahead of you." Toy Agumon lit a small flame on his blocky hand. "Perks of being a fire breathing dinosaur!"

I panicked slightly. If the fire caught any weird gas trapped down here we'd be caught in a direct explosion. But something wasn't right.

The air in this basement didn't feel stale, as though it had been locked for six years. I've been in abandoned homes before—I knew the dust that settles, the air that hasn't been touched in years. I felt nothing of that here. I started tensing. Could there be someone down here? An ambush?

"Jordan?" Toy Agumon asked, noticing my strange behavior.

"Be on your toes. This place may not be as abandoned as we think it is."

Toy Agumon grunted in understanding before standing on top of his tippy toes.

"No, I mean just stay on guard."

"Oh you should have said that earlier! Alright I'll take the lead!"

Toy Agumon then started hopping down the steps one by one, his blocky legs not capable of going down steps like these without knees.

I sighed. "Maybe he should wish for knees next."

I followed him down.

"Hey, Jordan! Didn't Palmon say this place would have years' worth of supplies? Cause I think she overestimated!"

Reaching the bottom I took a look around. We only had Toy Agumon's flame to go with but that was enough to paint the picture.

Shelves lined the walls, everything organized with meticulous care. Sealed containers, preserved supplies, bags of grain. Labels in neat handwriting.

Palmon had left everything ready. Waiting for a return that never came. Yet one thing was off. Most of them were empty. Jars, containers—the ones that were transparent had nothing in them. Some of the boxes and barrels had their lids open.

"There!" Toy Agumon pointed toward the corner. "That should be—"

He stopped.

I saw why.

The corner marked "meat" had sacks and barrels neatly positioned. Yet almost every single barrel and sack was empty.

Sacks cut open, contents gone. barrels unsealed and bare. Entire shelves that should have been full according to Palmon's description—empty.

"That's weird," Toy Agumon said. "Didn't Palmon say she left years' worth of supplies? Did she come back recently?"

"No... she said she hadn't left Haven's Rest in years..."

Something was wrong here.

I looked at the empty containers more carefully. No residue. No decay. No signs of animals or wild Digimon getting into them. They were cleaned out, methodically emptied.

My mind went back to summer two years ago. Shadowing Detective Shimizu, the private investigator. Mostly robberies—break-ins, stolen goods, insurance fraud and importantly, missing person cases.

He'd taught me to look for patterns. For things that didn't fit.

"Every crime scene tells a story, Jordan," Shimizu-san used to say. "You just have to know how to read it."

"Someone took these," I said slowly. "All of them. Everything except that one barrel."

"But Palmon said no one would steal from this place! Was it really someone taking them?" Toy Agumon asked.

"That's what we're going to find out."

I moved around the basement slowly, systematically. Shimizu-san had drilled it into me: Look at everything. Assume nothing.

The shelves. The floor. The walls.

Wait.

I stopped at the far wall. Brought Toy Agumon closer.

"What is it?" he asked.

"These marks." I traced my finger along shallow scratches carved into the wood. Not random. Organized. Deliberate.

Groups of vertical lines. Five lines, then a diagonal through them. Then another group.

Tally marks.

But next to them: symbols I didn't recognize. Strange characters, definitely not Japanese or English. Numbers, maybe? But not like any numbering system I knew.

"What's this? Claw marks?" Toy Agumon peered at them.

"No... too uniform... These are tally marks. Four lines then a cut, counting in fives. And the symbols next to them, they probably mean something but I can't read them." I had no reference for how time was measured in the Digital World. Different calendar system, probably. "Can you?"

"Uh... maybe?" He squinted at them. "Ummm, it says seeds, then a direction? North, East, South, West? I think that's it?"

“Huh, didn’t think you’d actually be able to read that. Some kind of digimon language?”

“Dunno, the words just pop into my head when I look at them.”

“That’s called reading…”

“Oh!”

I shook my head and went back to studying the marks more carefully. Seeds... four directions. Each direction had multiple groups of tally marks beneath it. North, East, South, West.

"They were tracking distribution," I said slowly. "Where they took the seeds. North, East, South, West—four different locations."

"Why split them up?" Toy Agumon asked.

"I don't know. But look—" I traced the marks. "The South section is more worn. Older. They started there first, then moved to the others."

I looked around the room again. Distribution. That had to mean something.

"You think that means something?"

"I don't know. It could be something that Palmon jotted down, but I can't leave out the possibility it was made by whoever came down here afterwards."

I kept looking, counting. Not the jars, not the containers, nor the shelves... wait. Why were some containers empty but others completely untouched?

Farming tools—untouched. Papers with farming information—untouched. Dried fruits—untouched.

But every container that held seeds? Opened. Emptied.

Only the seeds.

I looked back at the tally marks. They weren't counting visits. They were counting containers. Tracking what they'd taken and where it went. Thirty-four marks, and thirty-four containers empty.

Palmon mentioned seeds being valuable, but that was only until recently. This seemed to be done over the course of months. The tally marks in the South looked older, more worn than the others. Time had passed.

Someone had been taking seeds, and bringing them to different directions over a long time. But why do that? Why from this basement specifically? And the door... it was locked...

Something nagged at me. I turned back and walked up the stairs, looking at the basement door from the inside.

"Toy Agumon, bring the light over here."

The outside of the door was weathered, battered by six months of exposure to the wastes. The wood dried and cracked. Paint peeling. That made sense.

The inside looked fine too. It aged as you would expect, the metal handles rusting with no one to maintain it. Nothing looked out of pl—

Then I saw them. The hinges.

The door hinges were new. Metal shiny with barely any rust or wear. The screws looked fresh, their heads unmarred by weather or time.

"That looks really new!" Toy Agumon said. "Either Palmon bought some super good hinges for her door, or..."

"Someone replaced it. Perhaps our culprit..."

I knelt down, examining where the hinges connected to the doorframe. Toy Agumon crouched beside me, flame held close.

There—in the corners, around where the hinges sat: damage marks. Small gouges in the wood. Hack marks. Like someone had taken a blade or tool and systematically cut away the old hinges.

The fresh wood of the hinge plate didn't quite match the weathered doorframe around it.

"They forced the old hinges off," I said, tracing the damage with my finger. "See these marks? They had to cut through the old hardware to get in."

"But then why replace it?" Toy Agumon asked. "Why not just leave it broken?"

"Maybe..." I stood up, looking at the door with new understanding. "Maybe they wanted to cover their tracks. They broke in—probably forced the old hinges off to bypass the lock. Then they replaced everything so no one would know the basement had been accessed."

"That's... really thorough."

"Yeah. It is." I looked around the basement again. "Someone broke in here. Systematically stole seeds and replaced the door each time to hide the evidence."

"What kind of thief does that?"

"One that doesn't want others to notice their theft. This wasn't a one time job, it was an operation. Possibly one that's been in the works for months. Slowly emptying out this basement, and distributing the seeds to multiple different places."

Someone found this place, broke in yet took the time to ensure that no damage was done, and slowly removed only seeds, tracking where each one went. But why?

I moved to the empty containers. The ones that should have been full of seeds.

Each one had a lid—metal or wooden, sealed tight to preserve contents.

But when I looked at the lids more carefully...

"Toy Agumon. Look at this."

The edges of the metal lids showed damage. Small marks, like someone had pried them open with a tool. Not smashed. Not ripped off. Carefully leveraged open from one side.

I examined three different containers. Same pattern on each one—forced from the left side, then lifted.

"Same damage pattern as the door hinges," I said. “Same tool most likely. Everything rules out any wild Digimon ransacking the place. Clear signs that this was done by someone with a plan, something to do with the seeds and directions..."

"But Jordan, should we even care about this? I mean, it's just some seeds gone."

"Everything just doesn't make sense. Unless Palmon has loose lips, no one should know of this location except the people around her."

"Elecmon and Gaogamon seemed to know."

"And they wouldn't have looted the seeds, unless there's something we're missing."

I picked up one of the empty bags. Examined it in the firelight.

The bag had been opened carefully at the seam, then the edges folded back after being emptied. Not torn. Not ripped. Carefully opened.

"They kept the bags intact, only ripping out the top to retrieve the seeds. Why not just take the whole thing? To keep it secret? But there's no one around to notice the theft..."

Shimizu-san used to say you could tell a lot about a thief by how they stole. Desperate people smashed and grabbed. Professionals took their time. But all of them always did it as fast as possible.

This robbery was done slowly. They had no one watching yet they stole like a kid stealing from a cookie jar in a kitchen.

I knelt down, examining the floor.

Dust everywhere—years worth in most places. That was normal for an abandoned building.

But the dust patterns...

"Toy Agumon, can you light this area?"

He moved the flame lower. In the better light, I could see clear patterns in the dust—drag marks, footprints, faint but definitely there, paths worn through the accumulated grime.

I traced the patterns with my eyes. Door to shelves. Shelves to the corner. Corner to door. The same path, over and over, creating a visible trail.

But there was something else. A secondary set of marks, lighter and less frequent. Leading to the back wall. The one with the tally marks.

"They came here to work," I said. "Not just to steal. They came here, took seeds, marked the wall to track their progress, then left. This was... routine for them."

"Why mark the wall at all?" Toy Agumon asked. "If you're stealing, why leave evidence?"

"Record keeping? Keeping track of what they took, and where they took it to..." I stood up, brushing dust off my knees. "This wasn't opportunistic. This was organized. Planned. Someone was running an operation out of Palmon's basement."

An operation running for months, and based on the markings, they hadn't been back in a long time. Dust settling on the footprints left by whoever did this.

Humanoid, though the dust made it hard to tell the type of footprint, but definitely bipedal, so the question was... Digimon or Human?

I approached the one remaining barrel. The one with the meat seeds Palmon had sent us for.

"Why leave this one?" Toy Agumon voiced what I was thinking.

"Good question."

I examined the barrel carefully before opening it. The lid was intact—no pry marks like the others. The seal unbroken, dust settled naturally around it.

This one hadn't been touched.

"Intentional," I said. "They left this one on purpose."

"Why?"

"Either they didn't need these specific seeds..." I hesitated. "Or they didn't need all of them..."

Slowly, carefully, I opened the barrel.

The meat seeds were there, viable and preserved exactly as Palmon said they'd be. Small, dark, perfectly maintained in their container.

But something else was there too.

A piece of paper. Folded neatly. Placed deliberately on top of the seeds where anyone opening the barrel would see it immediately.

A message.

I pulled the paper out carefully. It was old—yellowed at the edges, brittle to the touch—but well-preserved inside the barrel. Protected from the elements.

It had been here a while. A long while. With the barrel having been opened, the seal protecting the insides was gone. The paper must have been damaged because of that.

I unfolded it.

Written in elegant script, the letters flowing and artistic:

"The Joke's On You. I Win!"

And below it a sign off: "From your best friend"

I stared at it.

They won. Won what exactly?

"What does that mean?" Toy Agumon asked quietly.

"I don't know." But my hands wouldn't stop shaking. "A message gloating about victory. Signed 'from your best friend.'"

I looked at Toy Agumon. "Someone who knew Palmon? Someone she trusted enough to tell about this place."

"You think Palmon knows who did this?"

"Maybe. Or maybe whoever wrote this wants her to know. Wants her to figure out who."

I turned the paper over. Nothing on the back.

"This is a confession," I said slowly. "They're admitting they took everything. But they're not sorry. They think it's funny, that they won."

"'I win.'" Toy Agumon read over my shoulder. "Win what?"

"Something only the person who wrote this would know... Or maybe Palmon knows..."

Are we missing something?

I looked around the basement again, all the pieces clicking into place like a puzzle yet the only picture I found was a blank one, taunting me.

"Someone found this basement—someone who knew Palmon and what she kept here." I paced as I talked, working through it. "They broke in, replaced the hinges so no one would notice. Then they came back over and over, taking seeds each time."

I indicated the wall marks. "They tracked everything. What they took, where it went. North, East, South, West—distributed across four locations."

I walked back to the door. "They replaced the hinges. Which means they came back multiple times, and each time they needed to get in."

I looked at the key ring in my hand. Palmon's keys. The original set.

"So either they had their own copy of the key..." I thought aloud. "Or they knew how to pick locks. Or..."

Or the key had been kept somewhere accessible. Somewhere they could find it.

Another question without an answer.

I held up the note. "And when they were done, they left this. A message for whoever came looking."

Toy Agumon stared at the empty containers. "But why? Why go through all this trouble for seeds?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" I folded the note carefully. "And I don't think we'll get answers here."

I held a seed from the barrel in my hand, looking at it. Small, dark, no bigger than a sesame seed. Nothing special about it at first glance.

Yet something this small was essential for survival. For feeding dozens of people. For keeping hope alive at Haven's Rest.

And someone had stolen years' worth of them.

For what purpose?

"Let's leave." I started filling a nearby empty sack with the remaining seeds.

"What about the note?" Toy Agumon asked.

I folded it carefully and put it in my pocket. "We take it. Show it to Palmon. Maybe she'll recognize something."

"Do you think the culprit will come back?"

"Maybe, but that's a problem for another day."

We climbed the stairs back into the burnt remains of the farmhouse. The wasteland stretched before us, grey and lifeless under the fading light.

What was once a basement that held the hope of many—capable of feeding a settlement for years—had been systematically looted. And whoever did it left behind a mocking note for anyone who came looking for salvation.

A sick joke from someone who knew people would be desperate.

"Come on," I said, adjusting the bag on my shoulder. "Let's get these back to Haven's Rest. We've got a long walk ahead."

"At least this time I have legs! And all the power to defend you!"

I took one last look at the farmhouse—Palmon's home—then turned toward Haven's Rest.

We had seeds to deliver.

"And so the hero shall rise and banish evil, so too will the digital world be granted salvation for it. Thus, it is thou's mission to pay your penance, to cleanse thyself of all sins. For the One True Hero will, at the dawn of salvation grant us peace forevermore."

With a long journey ahead of us, I decided to try and read the book that Angemon had given us. If Daichi is there, I should at least learn about what the religion that worships him is spouting. Difficulty struck immediately when I couldn't read the language. Just like the words in that basement, there was some kind of language used by Digimon, something that looked completely foreign to me.

Though it appeared to come naturally to Digimon, Toy Agumon seemed to be able to read it easily despite the odd word choices of the book. It sounded like it was trying too hard to sell the whole one true hero thing. Made me wonder what they did if you refused to believe the stuff in this book.

Toy Agumon meanwhile was waddling along while holding the book with both his arms outstretched in front of him, his eyes squinting as he read. Words came out of his mouth, but I was sure none of it registered in his head. Although, it might just be my own prejudice—his current evolution doesn't really strike me as being a smart Digimon, being literally made out of toy bricks and all.

I was quite sure he was going to turn into a beast Digimon of some kind. Terriermon was the likely option, but Toy Agumon? His prior evolutions must have had some effect on his current form, with [Upgrade] and [Burning Heart]. That damaged Androidmon wasn't the best measure of how strong Toy Agumon is though. We'd need to fight something that's Champion or higher. But at least now we don't have to worry too much while heading back. With his stat boosting skills we should be able to at least escape anything that comes our way.

"Say, Jordan?"

"Yeah?"

"You think I can gain more E.X.P?"

"Didn't you already gain a ton from that Androidmon? It was an Ultimate. You should have gotten a ton from that."

"The weird thing was that it gave me less than that Bakemon! It was almost like it's a Rookie!"

"Huh? A Rookie..."

"Mhmm! I'm sure of it!"

"Then what do you think of its strength? Was it Rookie level?"

"Yup! Most definitely! It didn't even use any skills! Its hits felt nothing like how an ultimate level Digimon should hit!!"

"So does that mean that the Androidmon we saw wasn't an Androidmon after all? Or am I overthinking this..." I thought about what Angemon had said. "That Angemon said it was corrupted. Could corruption make Digimon weaker? But if they're weaker, why struggle so hard against them?"

Again, too little information. Every hour we spent here felt like we got more tangled in a web of a world I just couldn't understand. Then this whole seed thing...

"We'll get through this Jordan! You're the brains and I'm the muscle!"

"Thanks. At least you're here with me. Honestly, I'm starting to miss my bed."

"Yeah! I could really go for some shut eye, and food! And hopefully we get rewarded by Palmon for going through all this trouble!"

"Reward? Palmon's not going to be able to reward us. She's probably flat broke."

"H-huh?! But missions always give juicy rewards! Bits! E.X.P!"

"This isn't the game, Toy Agumon. While you get E.X.P from beating other Digimon—of which we should find out if other Digimon also get the same benefit—you probably won't get it from just helping people. And I'm sure Palmon doesn't even have bits to run her kitchen. She's practically giving out food every morning."

"Then why did we do all of this then?"

"W-... Toy Agumon? What do you mean why?"

"Huh? Wasn't it to clear the mission?"

I stopped dead in my tracks as Toy Agumon walked past me slightly before stopping as well, turning towards me, putting the book in his hand down. Looking at me confused.

"Have... have you been treating this entire trip as a quest to be rewarded from?"

"Yeah? That's what we've always done together!"

"What we've always done..." I felt my stomach drop. "Wait, how can I be this stupid. You remember everything from the game, so you remember the decisions I made in the game. Everything I did was to make sure you evolved, so we could finish the game. And that hasn't changed for you..."

"Jordan?"

Is this how the five of them thought? Brought to this world at such a young age... while they were playing the game together in their club room. Did they treat this as some kind of game as well?

That's why BanchoLeomon said those things. Why he asked me if I treated this world like a game. Because that's likely what the others thought as well.

But six years... did they really treat this world like a game for six years? Possibly killing other Digimon just to power level? Grinding out in certain areas just to unlock potential Digivolutions? How did they treat their partners? No—what about just other Digimon?

They couldn't have...

These Digimon speak, act, behave just like humans.

"Jordan? Jordan!"

I jolted out of my thoughts as I saw Toy Agumon jumping in front of me, waving his arms trying to get my attention. Right... solve what you can in front of you, not what you can't. I'll solve each problem one at a time. As long as time gives me the chance...

"You... you say you remember everything while we were together right? Even outside the Digivice?"

"Huh? Well yeah! I remember you forgetting about me whenever you went to the toilet!"

"Then what about the times I went to the cafe to meet the families. Or the time I tutored Daichi's sister. The times when I went out with the Volunteer Corps. Or the times I worked with Mr. Shimizu?"

"Mhmm yeah I remember some of them. I think I was asleep most of the time you weren't playing."

"Right... But while I was doing these things, when I was helping them. Did you ever receive any E.X.P? Bits? Any rewards?"

"No?"

"Then what about me? Did you remember me being compensated at all?"

"N-no! Huh? That's weird!"

"It's not, Toy Agumon. I did it because I wanted to help. Maybe it was to get over that survivor's guilt I had, but I spent my time helping others. Not to get rewarded. This is how I do things, Toy Agumon. We don't help people expecting something in return. We help because it's the right thing to do, because we can make someone's life a little better by just trying."

"Oh... huh?... But..." Toy Agumon's face scrunched up as he started thinking hard, his hands on his head as it tilted side to side, before his whole body started swaying left to right. I didn't understand why he was doing all these motions, but I could only guess he was trying to understand my point.

"Uuuuuu... No reward... But then how will I get stronger to protect you? I need to protect you!"

"You don't need to protect me, Toy Agumon. We're partners, here to get through whatever the hell this is together. I don't know what's out there, what's happening with the five of them, or how this will all end. But if there's something we must always follow, it is to help people when we can. Not out of some expectation of future reward, but because it's the right thing to do."

"Uuuuuu... Ok..."

"You don't have to be 100% in line with what I think now, but give it a long think as we head back, ok?"

"Alright, I'll do it for you, Jordan!"

"Thanks... That's all I ask for."

"Ehehehe I'll show you that I can do this! Come on brain, do your thing! Think! Think!"

It's all a game... no one else other than us matters...

Those are dangerous thoughts. Selfish.

The more I think about this, the more I feel the need to have another conversation with BanchoLeomon...

Chapter Text

It took hours of walking, watching the occasional one or two Bakemon appearing before immediately disappearing the moment they laid eyes on Toy Agumon. He's been grumpy ever since he failed to hit one of them before they disappeared. He probably wanted to grumble about the loss of E.X.P, but has stayed silent so far. Perhaps he really is thinking hard about what I said.

In truth, there is always something selfish with most things we do. I say that it's the right thing to do, but is that so I could feel better about myself? When I look deeper, aren't I just trying to use volunteering as a way to get through my guilt? If they had never disappeared, would I have still volunteered or studied so hard to get into law school? Sometimes, I don't even want to ask those questions. After all, it's easier when you just ignore them...

With all the excitement behind us, we finally reached the gates of Haven's Rest. A sanctuary away from the horrors out there. I'm starting to understand why Digimon would want to flee here. If the corrupted were all like that Androidmon, but stronger, I couldn't blame anyone for wanting to run and hide.

As we approached the gates, I saw two Digimon standing guard. They didn't look like the ones we saw when we first left. But it seemed they knew us, both wide-eyed at our return. They both whispered before one ran back. Was my return weird? Did the other guard run to inform someone?

"You've returned! We thought you had died out there. It's been more than a day!"

"We faced some difficulty out there, but we pulled through somehow..."

The guard looked towards Toy Agumon and stared for a while before nodding.

"You should inform Palmon as soon as you can. She has been worried since last night, even came up to visit us at the start of our shift to ask us to keep an eye out for you. We feared you may have blown the whistle but were too far."

"Ah about the whistle, it's pretty much ashes at this point."

"S-sorry!" Toy Agumon said, looking a bit sheepish.

"It's no worry. It's meant to be something to save lives. If you are safe, then it has served its purpose whether used or not..." He paused for a moment.

Perhaps the encounter with Angemon made me forget, but this Digimon was treating me rather nicely. Different from most of the interactions I've had in Haven's Rest. Did something change?

"We... We all believe Humans to be cruel creatures. Many of us are in our current state due to their actions. Yet, you... went out to procure a food source for us. When none dared to even venture out. I don't know what the rest of the others think about you. But from the bottom of my heart... thank you."

"O-oh, umm you're welcome. Hopefully this is enough to help everyone. We found something strange in Palmon's basement. We need to let her know."

"Of course, please go on. And again, thank you. My brothers and sisters won't have to go hungry thanks to your efforts."

I nodded, throat tight. His gratitude felt heavier than the sack of seeds.

I headed toward Palmon's kitchen, hoping it would be enough.

"You're back!" Palmon shouted as we turned the corner to reach her kitchen. The Digimon eating looked up at us in surprise. Word must have spread around that we went out.

"You're unhurt! Oh thank the Currents you're alright!"

"And we have your seeds. Well... what was left that we could carry."

"What was left?"

"Someone emptied them out! Robbed most of them! There was only one barrel of seeds left!" Toy Agumon blurted out.

The announcement rattled every Digimon in the room.

"Stolen?!"

"Her reserves are gone!"

"But there were years' worth in there!"

"What are we going to do?!"

Shouts from all sides came rushing in, the look of fear painted across their faces as they looked to each other.

"Will... this be enough?" I asked as I reached out to hand the sack of seeds to her.

She took it with trembling hands. The news must have hit her worse than any other. Her seeds were kept safe in her old home. Stolen. I couldn't imagine what would be going through her mind right now.

"This... will be enough for a year at most, if we continue the current ration plan." Palmon's voice was hollow, the energy from moments before completely drained.

A year. One year left.

Whispers and worry started echoing amongst the crowd. But knowing that they still had a year's worth of food to eat, I felt better knowing that at least they had more time.

"Palmon... I need you to look at this. I think whoever stole the seeds left this for you. Or for whoever went to collect the seeds." I said as I handed her the paper.

She opened it, looking confused, then sad.

"W-why... why would someone find this funny? There were enough seeds to last us years... now it's all gone? I don't understand. None of my friends would do this!"

"You can't think of anyone?"

"Elecmon is the closest friend I have, and Gaogamon comes to help everyone in town. Those two were the only ones who knew about what was in my basement. It was only just yesterday did I tell everyone else about it, once discussions about what to do about the food shortage came up... Both of them wouldn't do this..."

Leomon approached—the same Digimon who'd guided us to our guest house when we first arrived. "Gaogamon has not left Haven's Rest since he came here with me. And Elecmon is the same. None of them would have left. Nor have we known of any Digimon that would frequently leave the sanctuary of this place. The only ones who have, were the heroes. But that was years ago."

"Those children, they wouldn't have stolen from me!" Palmon said as she looked at Leomon, tears in her eyes.

"Perhaps not, but they are different now, Palmon. But we don't know for sure." Leomon replied, his voice softer. "Human, the situation in Haven's Rest has gotten more tense lately. While your presence is a factor, something else stirs beneath us. Something we don't understand. Either strange things are afoot, or the factions have started moving once again."

"You must see BanchoLeomon. He should be informed of what you have seen. It is rare for us to get an account of what happens outside our walls. And this thievery must be reported to him. That storage was going to be our lifeline..."

"Alright. I was going anyway."

"Good. Follow me." Leomon said as he walked forward.

The walk to the Tree was quiet. Leomon didn't speak, and I was too busy processing everything to start a conversation. Toy Agumon waddled beside me, occasionally glancing up but staying silent.

The tree loomed larger as we approached. Even dying, it was magnificent—massive branches reaching toward the grey sky, bark that shimmered faintly with residual data. The shrine area around it was simple but well-maintained. A circle of stones. A few wooden platforms. Sacred ground, treated with care despite everything falling apart around it.

And there, on the largest platform, stood BanchoLeomon.

But he wasn't alone.

Three figures were in deep discussion. BanchoLeomon, massive and scarred, his remaining hand gripping his staff tightly. Beside him, a Digimon I didn't recognize—floating, robed, holding a thick tome. And facing them both, a peculiar Digimon that looked like a gentleman crafted from a 10 yen coin, complete with monocle and formal attire.

"Wait, stay quiet," Leomon said quietly as his brow furrowed. "Looks like the Merchants are meeting with BanchoLeomon..."

Merchants?

We moved closer, staying out of direct sight but near enough to hear.

"—waited a month. A full month." The coin Digimon said as he started clicking on a calculator. "The Frozen Kingdom was our most profitable route. Toys, gifts, decorations—they couldn't get enough. My warehouses are full of inventory meant for them."

He gestured vaguely in Haven's Rest's direction. "Here? No one can afford luxuries. They need food, medicine. The basics. I can't move my most profitable product. I can't justify staying."

"The Iron Vanguard pays well. The Covenant offers tax breaks if you join their faith. Project Salvation..." He shuddered. "They pay very well, but what they do there... I'd rather not discuss."

Project Salvation? That sounded like something the Androidmon said before it attacked us. Are they connected somehow?

"The point is: other settlements are thriving while Haven's Rest is dying. My quarterly report is due in two weeks. If I'm in the red, I lose this position."

BanchoLeomon's remaining hand tightened on his staff. "Name your price, Ganemon. What would it take to stay?"

"It's not about price, Lord BanchoLeomon. It's about market access." Ganemon's voice was apologetic but firm. "Without the Frozen Kingdom, there's no business here. And they sealed their gates a month ago. No traders in or out. No explanation."

The robed Digimon floated forward next to BanchoLeomon. "We could offer services. Healing, knowledge, protection for caravans—"

"With respect, Master Wisemon," Ganemon interrupted gently. "Other settlements offer the same but better, plus payment. The Iron Vanguard guarantees caravan safety through their territory. The Covenant offers tax exemptions for faithful merchants."

He shook his head. "But Haven's Rest offers nothing we can't get elsewhere. And elsewhere, we profit."

"Every merchant under our employment here has tried to reopen trade with the Frozen Kingdom," Ganemon continued. "Every negotiator. Every diplomat. The gates stay closed." He sighed. "I'm sorry, but this is a courtesy visit. We leave in three days."

BanchoLeomon said nothing. There was nothing to say.

A mega level Digimon sitting powerless before a merchant.

Not because Ganemon was cruel. But because he was right.

Haven's Rest was dying. And everyone knew it.

Ganemon turned to leave, bowing respectfully. "We're grateful for your protection. Truly. But business is business, and we must survive."

"Wait."

BanchoLeomon's voice stopped Ganemon mid-step.

The merchant turned back. "Lord BanchoLeomon?"

BanchoLeomon fixed his eyes on me. Held my gaze.

I saw the calculation. The desperation.

"If we could reopen trade with the Frozen Kingdom. Say a week. Would you stay?"

Ganemon blinked. "Reopen trade? Respectfully, we've tried—"

"Would. You. Stay."

Silence.

"If trade reopened... yes. Absolutely. But that's impossible. No one can get through—"

"BanchoLeomon, no." Wisemon's voice was sharp. "You can't be suggesting—"

"The Frozen Kingdom has a human inside, yes?" BanchoLeomon kept his eye on Ganemon.

Ganemon nodded slowly. "Rumors, yes. A human woman. But we've never confirmed—"

"My messenger is human." BanchoLeomon gestured to me.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

"A human messenger?" Ganemon studied me with new eyes. "That... that might actually work."

"It's suicide," Wisemon hissed. "I've sent scouts to investigate. Their border guards don't listen. They don't negotiate. They just... freeze things."

"But you're not human." Ganemon was thinking now, clicking his calculator rapidly. "If there IS a human inside the Frozen Kingdom, and if they hold sway with their ruler... another human might get an audience where Digimon cannot. A new variable to the equation!"

Ganemon turned to look at me directly. "Can you do it? Reopen trade?"

I don't even know where the Frozen Kingdom is. "I—"

"He can." BanchoLeomon's voice was final. "One week. If he reopens trade, you stay for another year. Allowing you to continue trade with the Frozen Kingdom."

Ganemon clicked his calculator one final time.

"One week. If your human messenger gets me a trade agreement with the Frozen Kingdom—a real agreement, verified—we stay. Full year commitment."

He extended his hand. "But if not, we leave. No further delays. I have a career to salvage."

BanchoLeomon shook. "Deal."

Ganemon bowed to BanchoLeomon, nodded to Wisemon, then looked at me.

"I hope you're as capable as Lord BanchoLeomon believes, young human. My livelihood depends on it."

He walked away, leaving me standing there with a mission I never agreed to.

Wisemon rounded on BanchoLeomon immediately. "What were you thinking?! The Frozen Kingdom is sealed! I tried for a month! Their border guards don't negotiate, they don't talk, they just freeze anything that gets too close!"

"I'm aware."

"Then you know he'll fail! Or worse—he'll be frozen like everything else that approaches!"

"Possibly."

"So what were you expecting?" I asked.

BanchoLeomon met my eyes. "That you would stay true to your goal."

"My goal? What does that have t—"

"When you first arrived, you told me your goal was to save the five of them. This is your chance to meet one of them."

"Who?"

"Aoi. If the rumors are to be correct. Three years ago while the others left, she alone stayed. But not out of any loyalty, but to heal her broken heart. But when we checked on her a few weeks later, she vanished along with her partner. From what I have gathered, there is word that she has found sanctuary in the Frozen Kingdom."

"So you told that merchant I'll go, because you knew I'd go if Aoi was there."

"You showed yourself willing to help others, helping Palmon with her struggle. So now I ask you to help Haven's Rest again. This time, a task that aligns with your own goal."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then the merchant faction will leave, we will be forced to use up whatever rations we have left. Haven's Rest will enter a famine, and we will all die. That is the result. That is our future if we let the merchant faction leave. We still need the food they supply."

Wisemon floated closer towards us.

"The seeds Palmon asked you to retrieve from her home. We've heard from her that she has years' worth of seeds stored up. This, together with the supply the merchants provide us on discount will allow us to survive for years to come." Wisemon said, adding on. "Without these two, we run the risk of the famine we fear."

"About the seeds, when we entered the basement we found it had been looted. Someone had been stealing seeds from there over the span of a few months from what I can tell. They left this note." I said as I handed over the paper to Wisemon who took it.

"T-this..." Wisemon said as he trembled. "This is dire news... How much were you able to salvage?"

"Palmon said it'll only last a year, with the current ration plan..."

"Then we are in an even more dire situation than we'd hoped. You see, the current ration plan only covers sixty percent of Haven's Rest. The other forty percent are able to sustain themselves through the purchasing of food from the merchants. Once they leave, the rations will need to be handed to those forty percent."

"That'll make the rations be depleted even faster..."

"And further speeding the process of us reaching a famine. We...we need the merchant faction to stay now, they can't leave. If they do, we won't make it till the end of the year!"

"Jordan." BanchoLeomon, for the first time, said my name. "You said if you couldn't save the five of them, that you would save this world. So please, start with this place."

BanchoLeomon, on his knees, bowed down, hitting his forehead onto the ground. Dogeza.

"I..." I couldn't get the words out. Just how bad had this situation gotten? Only I could save them? This was insanity. I'm just a university student. I'm not a hero. I'm not—

"We'll do it!" Toy Agumon shouted.

"Toy Agumon?" I said as I looked at him.

"You said we help people because it's right.." He looked at me seriously. "These people need help. Haven's Rest will die if the merchants leave. They gave us a mission, and we are the only ones who can complete it!"

"So let's do it! Let's break those gates open for those greedy money loving coins! We'll be able to help everyone here!"

"We might die."

"Then we die doing the right thing." He said it simply. "Isn't that what you said? Does doing the right thing matter even when it's hard?"

He's been listening. Really listening.

And he's right.

"Yeah, you're right. It's the right thing to do." I said as I looked back at BanchoLeomon. "We'll do it, just tell us what we need to know."

"I can help with that. We've gathered as much information as we could in the past month. I'll get you prepared as much as I can." Wisemon said, his eyes looking hopeful.

BanchoLeomon raised his head. His eyes looked directly at me.

"None of the five had to face a situation like this while they were under our protection. I do not know what they would have done in your shoes. But I pray, I hope, that you will be able to save us."

"South through the wastes. Two days across dead forests. Then the temperature drops. Everything turns white. That's when you know you're close." Wisemon's tome floated open, pages displaying a rough map.

"You'll know you're at the border when you see the ice sculptures.”

"Ice Digimon patrol its borders. They do not listen to reason, they only attack. I do not know how they will respond to human presence, but I suggest you be ready to fight your way through."

"No way to get past them without conflict?"

"It used to be that we could show this to them." Wisemon brought out a glass slipper. "This was a symbol that you have an invitation to the castle."

"A glass slipper... Like Cinderella?"

"I don't know what you mean, but it's the key to entering past the gates."

"Show this slipper when you can, and pray they don't attack you. If they do, protect this slipper with your life. It's your only key to entering the castle."

BanchoLeomon stood, moving to a small chest near the shrine. He pulled out a worn cloak—thick, lined with what looked like fur.

"Take this. The cold there isn't natural. It seeps into your bones. Into your data." He handed it to me. "This won't stop ice Digimon, but it'll keep you from freezing to death on the approach."

I took the cloak. It was heavier than it looked.

"Your goal is simple," BanchoLeomon continued. "Negotiate trade reopening. Convince their ruler to reopen trade with the outside world. I don't know who's controlling the kingdom any longer, but I pray nothing has happened to their previous ruler."

"And if I find Aoi?"

BanchoLeomon's expression was unreadable. "Then try to save her, as you told me you would. Whether or not she is savable, those gates need to reopen and they need to continue trade with the merchants."

"And if everything doesn't work out?"

"Then we'll die, knowing that we've exhausted every option that we had."

Wisemon closed his tome. "One more thing. If you do get inside, if you do see her... be careful. When I was part of the Covenant, I've heard stories of her ability to be extremely in tune with emotions. Empathetic. Feeling everything deeply—joy, sadness, love, pain."

"Those emotions become amplified. Magnified. Everything she feels, she feels too much. Love becomes an obsession. Protection becomes imprisonment. Kindness becomes cruelty. At least, that is what was taught to us through the elders before I ran."

The weight of what I heard settled over me like the cloak—heavy, suffocating. The girl who'd always cared about others, she'd even make sure I felt comfortable whenever I visited their classroom... No, let's not think about this now...

"How long do I have?"

"One week," BanchoLeomon said. "Any longer than that and Ganemon shuts down their operation here and they leave."

"Three days there, three days back," I calculated. "That leaves one day to negotiate."

"We'll have scouts watching the southern approach. If you manage to open the gates, they'll see the merchants pass through and inform Ganemon immediately."

"We leave at first light tomorrow," I said finally.

BanchoLeomon nodded. "Leomon will escort you to the southern gate. After that, you're on your own."

"Understood."

"Jordan." BanchoLeomon's voice stopped me as I turned to leave.

I looked back.

"Your bond with Toy Agumon reflects you as an individual as well. Remember that. As for agreeing to help us, thank you."

I met his eye.

The look he gave me spoke of the suffering he had to endure, the responsibilities that weighed heavily on his shoulders. No amount of power he wielded would help him in this situation, as he stayed trapped in Haven's Rest.

"Let's go, Toy Agumon. We need to prepare."

"Right behind you, Jordan!"

We walked away from the Tree, from BanchoLeomon and Wisemon, from the weight of their desperation.

Tomorrow, we'll leave for a frozen kingdom.

To find a friend I hadn't seen in six years.

One week to convince whoever ruled that castle to open up.

Or Haven's Rest dies.

No pressure.

That night, I sat in the guest house, the glass slipper carefully wrapped and placed beside the heavy cloak.

Three days to the Frozen Kingdom. Four days to reopen trade. Or Haven's Rest starves.

"Jordan?" Toy Agumon sat beside me. "You think we can do it?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything about negotiating with... whoever is in charge there. Never saw myself becoming a diplomat, much less one that’s trying to save an entire settlement… And Aoi… Would she even remember me?..."

"But we're going anyway?"

"Yeah. We're going anyway."

"Because it's the right thing to do?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

He bounced once. "Then we'll figure it out! Together!"

I looked at the glass slipper. Delicate. Beautiful. The key to a frozen kingdom.

Tomorrow, we leave for a frozen kingdom where a friend I haven't seen in six years is.

A kingdom that freezes anyone that approaches.

Who might freeze us too.

But Haven's Rest needs this. The people here need this.

I need to do this, else everyone here dies. And there’s the possibility Aoi is in danger there.

"Get some sleep, Toy Agumon. Long walk tomorrow."

"I wonder how cool an ice castle would look like?"

Despite everything, I smile.

"Yeah. Me too."

I lay back, staring at the ceiling.

What happened to you, Aoi? What are you doing there?

Sleep doesn't come easy.

But eventually, it comes.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, we’ll be one step closer in finding out what happened.

One step closer to finding them.

Chapter Text

The next morning came quickly.

Leomon met us at the southern gate, carrying supplies. BanchoLeomon stood nearby. I could see him staring out into the distance, his remaining hand clenching. He’d told us, when we first met, that he was forced to stay here. But why? I wonder… if he could leave, would he have solved all of this easily?

“Remember, the fate of Haven’s Rest lies with you now,” Bancholeomon said as he looked at me.

I nodded. “I won’t forget.”

“Let’s go,” Leomon said.

We walked south.

The journey through the dead forests was quiet at first. Leomon led the way, moving with practiced efficiency, cutting through the dead leaves with his knife. Toy Agumon waddled beside me, occasionally glancing up.

“All these trees don’t have leaves at all. What gives?” Toy Agumon said as he knocked on one of the dead white trees we walked past.

The entire forest, or rather, dead forest, was full of these leafless trees, completely bleached white, and sounded hollow when knocked on.

“A sign of corruption. It’s complicated. As far as we understand it, the corruption takes root in the land, destroying the life within the data itself. Resulting in what you see before you.”

“Is it infectious?” I asked, remembering the Androidmon from before.

“No, it’s safe to travel. However, corrupted Digimon are different. They carry the corruption, spreading it to those who fall prey to their attacks. The infection takes a while to take hold, especially for those of higher levels, but once it does, it’ll completely change the Digimon.”

“So zombies?” Toy Agumon asked.

“Zombies? I don’t know what that is. But if you mean the undead, it’s of a kind. Different from actual undead Digimon—they act more… feral.”

“So the injured Digimon, back in Haven’s Rest…”

“Some suffer from corrupted attacks, yes. They rest underneath the World Tree’s light. It’s the only way we know to heal the corruption entirely. Though I’ve heard Wisemon mentioning a healing technique that the Covenant keeps on a tight leash.”

“Oh, we heard about that from an Angemon!” Toy Agumon replied.

“You met a Covenant scout?”

“A missionary, more like. Gave us a book about their religion.”

“Yes. They are adamant about their faith.” Leomon replied. I could see he had more to say on the subject, but stopped himself.

The journey through this forest was rather peaceful. With Leomon with us, I decided to pull out my notebook.

The book that the five of them had created together. Notes about the game, strategies for evolution, tips for battles. It had been useful once. A year into the game. After that, it was just… memories.

The only thing I had to remember them by.

I flipped through the pages, finding Aoi’s additions scattered throughout.

She hadn’t written about raising Digimon and hadn’t mentioned battles, strategies or evolution paths. Instead, she’d written about us.

“Daichi’s favorite food is curry rice. Always asks for extra spice. Says it helps him focus.”

“Kenji likes black coffee. No sugar. Says sweet things are for kids, but I caught him eating chocolate the other day, the milk ones.”

“Mei stays up late reading. Science journals mostly. Falls asleep with her glasses on.”

“Riku collects shells. Has a whole box of them at home. Says each one is unique. He bought us all sodas again, I’ll return the favour!”

Little details. Things that made each of them happy. Plans to go out together—movies, restaurants, arcades.

And scattered throughout: little drawings. Stick figures, mostly. All five of them smiling. Together. As I turned to the later sections of the notebook, the five turned to six, making me smile a little.

“What are you reading?”

Leomon’s voice startled me. I hadn’t noticed him looking over.

“It’s a book the five of them created,” I said. “A guide for the game. I kept it… for the memories, I guess. It’s the only thing I have to remember them by.”

Leomon walked in silence for a moment. “A game?”

“Ah, right, you don’t know about this. Well, for me and the five, we know about Digimon through a game. Toy Agumon was my partner throughout while playing.”

“A game… hmmm.” Leomon mumbled. Perhaps the idea that Digimon were a game to us humans made him think.

“And Aoi, well, she wrote nothing about the game, really. Just… about what made each of us happy. Our favorite foods. Our plans to go out together.” I showed him one of the drawings. “She drew these throughout the pages.”

“She was always making sure everyone felt happy.” I closed the notebook. “She was similar to Riku in that sense. Both of them only talked about others in the group. Never really about themselves.”

Leomon was quiet for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was distant.

“I have known many comrades. From birth to battle, I grew with a squadron of warriors to combat any threat to the Digital World. I thought I knew my brothers and sisters. That they would die for me like I would for them.”

He paused, his expression darkening.

“But when the human, Kenji, took the throne, priorities changed. Soon, it became a fight to gain his favor, to become part of his inner circle. Master,s who had taught us turned quiet, avoiding others. The comrades I once had turned against one another, fighting to gain favor in combat.”

His voice dropped. “I saw my only family tear itself to shreds, all to please one person. It was then that I decided to leave, to gather those who thought the same as I did. We could not stay any longer.”

He looked at me and Toy Agumon.

“I don’t know what kind of game you played in your human world. I only have two humans to compare: you and the one who took over my home. Yet the difference in character I have seen is enough to give me pause.”

He gestured back toward Haven’s Rest, though we could no longer see it.

“The home I was once a part of was a bastion of loyalty, perseverance, and bravery. These were the tenets that we held dear. That changed. And so did the Digimon who stood under its banner.”

“One of you helped the first Digimon that asked for help. To venture into danger head first, only to be sent on another dangerous mission, yet to have not asked for a reward upon return. Yet the other destroys my home, enslaving it for their own ambitions. I do not understand you humans, or the games you play.”

“But I will put my hope in you, human. That you’d try your best to save my new home.”

We reached the edge of the dead forest as the sun—or what passed for the sun in this grey world—began to set.

Before us stretched a different landscape entirely. White. Endless. Cold.

“This is where I leave you,” Leomon said. “The winter wastes beyond. I cannot follow you any further.”

“I understand.”

He pulled out a small pack. “Supplies. Water. Emergency rations. It’s not much, but it should last you three days if you’re careful.”

“Thank you.”

“The Frozen Kingdom, you’ll know you’re close when everything turns white. Keep walking until you see the castle’s gates.”

Leomon extended his hand. “May your iron give you strength.”

“My iron?”

“A saying we have, when we send warriors into battle.”

I shook his hand. His grip was firm, warm.

“Be careful, human. This whole situation reeks of evil.”

“I know.”

He nodded once, then turned and walked back into the dead forest. Within moments, he was gone, leaving Toy Agumon and me standing at the edge of the white wasteland.

“Well,” Toy Agumon said, looking up at me. “This is it, huh?”

“Yeah. This is it.”

“We can do this, right?”

I looked down at my partner. Small. Blocky. Made of toy bricks. But determined. Brave. Here with me, despite everything.

“Yeah. Ready to burn away the cold?”

“Heh,e you bet! Let’s get going! I wanna see an ice castle!”

Despite everything, I smiled. “Yeah. Me too.”

We stepped into the white wasteland.

The cold hit immediately. Even with the cloak, I felt it seeping into my bones. The temperature had dropped at least twenty degrees just crossing that invisible border.

Toy Agumon’s flame flickered but stayed lit. “Brrr! It’s freezing!”

“Stay close. We move south.”

I pulled out the small compass Wisemon had given me. The needle pointed steadily south, toward the Frozen Kingdom.

Towards Aoi.

We trudged through the snow. The wind picked up, battering us from all sides. Soon we were in a full-blizzard, barely able to see five feet ahead.

“Jordan!” Toy Agumon shouted over the wind. “I can’t see anything!”

“Stay close! Follow my voice!”

We pressed forward, using the compass as our only guide. The cold was brutal. My fingers were numb. My face stung.

But we kept moving.

We had to.

I don’t know how long we walked. An hour? Two? Time lost meaning in the white void.

Then I saw them.

Figures in the distance. Two of them. Standing still in the blizzard.

I stopped, heart pounding. Guards?

“Jordan?” Toy Agumon pressed against my leg. “What is it?”

“I see something. Two figures ahead.”

Should I call out? What if they were hostile? Wisemon had said the border guards didn’t negotiate; they just froze anything that got too close. Were these figures the guards Wisemon mentioned?

But before I could decide—

“Psst, hey… hey! Over here! If you don’t wanna end up becoming popsicles, come here!”

I spun around. A figure was lying flat on the ground to our left, almost invisible in the snow. They wore a very thick coat that covered their entire body. It looked like a human until I noticed an orange tail sticking out from the coat.

“Come on! Before they notice you! Just crawl like me and let’s get outta here! I’ve got a hut just over yonder!”

I looked at Toy Agumon. He looked at me.

We didn’t have much choice.

“Alright,” I said, dropping to the ground. “Lead the way.”

“That’s the spirit! Just crawl nice and quiet-like, and those Frigimon won’t even know you were here!”

We crawled through the snow, following the mysterious figure—the cold bit through my clothes, through the cloak, through everything. But we kept moving.

After what felt like an eternity, I saw it—a small hut, barely visible in the blizzard. Light glowed from tiny windows.

The figure stood up and opened the door. “Inside! Quick, quick!”

We scrambled through the door. Heat washed over me immediately.

The figure slammed the door shut behind us and pulled down their hood.

“Whew! What an adventure, I tell ya what! Luckily I got you out of that fiasco you almost got yourselves into! Those Frigimon would have iced both of you the moment you passed their borders!”

I stared.

Toy Agumon stared.

Standing before us, grinning widely, was an Etemon.

An actual Etemon. A boss-level Digimon in the game. The one with the ego the size of a planet. The one we’d fought dozens of times.

Here. In a hut. In a blizzard. Rescuing us.

“Hey, why don’t I fix the both of ya up with some drinks eh? I bet you got a real rocking story for coming all the way out here!” He gestured enthusiastically. “Like, jeez I’ve never seen a Digimon like you before! A Toy Agumon and a weird Digimon walking through a winter wonderland, now that’s a real rocking song!”

I couldn’t speak. My brain had stopped working.

Etemon. An Ultimate-level digimon. An evil narcissist and we were stuck in a tiny hut with it.

And it was…making us drinks?

It saved us from whatever was out there.

“You!” Toy Agumon suddenly shouted, flames flaring. “Big stinky monkey! Did you lure us here to fight?!”

“Whoa, whoa, my brick friend, I ain’t here for a tussle or tumble!” Etemon held up his hands. “I wouldn’t beat up the people I save, no no no no, I’m a true gentleman! In fact, I save countless lives that pass through here, though the majority of them end up walking to their deaths anyways. But I always make sure my guests are warm and their bellies full!”

He was already pouring something steaming into cups. Tea? Coffee? I couldn’t tell.

“So why did you let us in here?” I finally managed to ask.

Etemon turned, grinning. “Well, my unknown guest, I was once like both of you. Eager to bathe in the glorious beauty of Cendrillmon!”

“Cendrillmon?” The name meant nothing to me. I’d never heard it before.

“Yes! The most beautiful Digimon in the entire Digital World!” Etemon struck a dramatic pose. “Though don’t shout that out in public, learnt that the hard way! Ahahahahaha!”

“What does this Digimon have to do with you being here?”

“Huh? Why weren’t you also journeying to see her as well?” Etemon looked genuinely confused. “The queen hidden in the snow? The mother to all scorned by the world?! The queen of the Frozen Castle?! Why would you trek through this winter hell if not to see her?”

My heart skipped a beat. “The ruler? You know the ruler of the frozen kingdom?”

“Yes! Weeelll, knowing is a bit of a stretch. But many come for all sorts of reasons!” Etemon’s enthusiasm was infectious. “I’m here as one of the many suitors hoping to earn her hand in marriage! It’s customary for all potential grooms to journey to her castle and face her trials!”

He sat down heavily, his expression darkening. “But just a month ago, everything started getting real crazy. The guards started attacking anyone getting close to their borders! No questions, no trials, just—” He made a freezing gesture. “Instant ice sculpture.”

“A month ago?” I exchanged glances with Toy Agumon. At the same time the merchants lost access. At the same time the borders closed completely.

“Yeah, and I’ve been stuck out here ever since! Can’t get close enough even to try the trials anymore.” Etemon sighed dramatically. “Three years I’ve been coming here, trying to win her heart, and right when I was making progress—BAM! Everything goes sideways.”

“So who’s this Cendrillmon?” Toy Agumon asks

“Ehh well, where do I start…Ah! Let me regale you with a tale!” Etemon gestured expansively. “A lady of untold beauty found a dead volcano years and years ago and transformed it into the most gorgeous palace you ever did see! She used the volcanic ash to create these beautiful ice crystals. Real one-of-a-kind architecture!”

“Digimon from all over would come to try their luck and win her hand in marriage! She’d set up trials—tests of strength, wit, character—real classy stuff. If you impressed her, you got invited inside. If not…” He shrugged. “You tried again or went home.”

“And you tried for three years?”

“Hey, true love takes time, baby!” Etemon struck another pose. “Besides, I wasn’t the only one. Lots of Digimon came for lots of reasons. Some for marriage, some for trade, some just seeking refuge.”

“Refuge?”

“Yeah! Cendrillmon believes that her castle should be a safe haven for those who can’t bear the suffering of the world anymore, baby! She takes them in, shelters them, protects them.” Etemon’s voice softened, clutching his heart theatrically. “She’s got a real kind heart, an absolute sweetheart!”

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold outside. A safe haven for those who couldn’t bear suffering. An ice castle. A ruler who protected people.

But why would Aoi be there? Was she in trouble?

“Etemon,” I said carefully. “Have you seen any other humans around here?”

He thought about it, scratching his head. “Humans?”

He scratched his head and squinted a bit before realizing something. Like a light bulb just lit up in his head.

“Wait a darn minute here, you’re one of them humans, aren’t you! Well I’ll be, I haven’t seen one of you lot in years! How long was… oh right, just when I came around these parts. Yeah three years ago!”

My pulse quickened. “What did they look like?”

“Uh, young. Black hair, maybe? Had this really pretty pink flower Digimon with her… Lillymon?—no wait, Lilamon! Yeah, definitely Lilamon.” He snapped his fingers. “She looked rough, man like she’d been through hell. Wouldn’t talk to anyone. Just her partner did the talking.”

“Did they go to the castle?”

“Hmm, yeah they did, accompanied by a weird dude.” Etemon’s expression turned thoughtful. “Weird Digimon with a pumpkin head. Had a glass slipper, so he must have been someone important. The girl and her partner went in without him, and I never saw them again.”

A pumpkin Digimon?

“Figured they were looking for help.” He paused. “A lot of folk come here to do the same, coming to the castle to become guests of Cendrillmon, but now… that ain’t an option.”

“You mentioned ice sculptures…”

Etemon stood up, moving to the window. “Come here. I’ll show you.”

I joined him at the small window. Through the blizzard, I could just barely make out the castle in the distance. Massive. Beautiful. Glowing with an eerie internal light.

“See those statues lining the approach?”

I squinted. There were shapes, dozens of them, maybe hundreds, standing perfectly still in the snow.

“Those aren’t statues, kid. Those are Digimon. Frozen solid. All of them tried to approach the castle in the last month.”

My stomach dropped. “All of them?”

“Every single one. I’ve watched from here. Merchants, travelers, even a few Covenant missionaries—all dressed in white, talking about ‘His holiness and someone true hero’ nonsense. Didn’t matter who they were. Frigimon froze them all.”

He turned to look at me. “Whatever happened in that castle a month ago, it wasn’t good. And whatever’s controlling those guards now, it ain’t the Cendrillmon I had tea with.”

“You had tea with her?”

“Once! Two months ago! Got invited after I sang a ballad outside her gates. Beautiful afternoon. She was kind, funny, a real conversationalist.” His enthusiasm dimmed. “I was asked to return another day to prove my love in a fight. Then a month later, everything went crazy.”

I carefully pulled out the glass slipper and unwrapped it. “You mentioned a glass slipper, like this one?”

Etemon’s eyes went wide as dinner plates. “Is that—no way. No way! A genuine glass slipper?! Where did you get that?!”

“It was given to me. By someone who said it would grant me entry.”

“Well, hot dog!” Etemon grabbed it gently, examining it from all angles. “That’s the real dea,l alright! I’d recognize Cendrillmon’s craftsmanship anywhere! You know how rare these are? She only makes them for the most important guests! Leaders! Guardians! VIPs!”

He looked at me with new respect. “Who are you exactly?”

“Jordan. I’m a messenger from Haven’s Rest. I’m here to negotiate trade reopening.”

“Haven’s Rest? That refugee settlement up north?” Etemon scratched his head. “Man, times must be tough if they’re just sending both of you without an entourage. No offense.”

“None taken.” I took the slipper back carefully. “Do you think this will work? Will they let me in?”

“Honestly?” Etemon sat back down. “I don’t know. The glass slipper should work—it’s the ultimate invitation. But whatever’s controlling those guards now…” He shook his head. “They’re not acting like guards anymore. They’re acting like puppets.”

“Puppets?”

“Yeah. They move weirdly. Too smooth, too perfect. Like they’re being controlled by something.” He shuddered. “Wouldn’t even answer to any of my questions, didn’t even recognize me when I approached!”

He sat down for a moment and stared out the window, tapping his chair to a beat of some kind. He seemed to be in deep thought before looking back at me.

He leaned forward. “Listen. That slipper might get you through the gates. Might. But whatever’s waiting inside…” He trailed off. “Why don’t we do this? Cause I’m also itching to get inside the castle.”

“You’ve got that glass slipper, and it’s probably the best shot any of us are gonna get in there. And no offense, but I don’t think either of you will be able to beat an army of Frigimon on their home turf, you feel me? So let me join both of ya. I lay the beat down on whatever resistance we get, along with Toy Agumon over there. When we get to the gate, you present the glass slipper. If I understand it right, the gates should automatically open!”

“This opens the gate automatically? Then why would the merchants have issues entering the castle?”

“Cause of them Frigimon, they’re relentless! They don’t recognize anyone other than being intruders! Like they’ve been reprogrammed or something. I used to drink with one of those snowmen, and they don’t even recognize m.e”

“So we work together to get into the castle.”

“Three heads are better than two and all that, and you can believe my strength ain’t nothing to scoff at!”

An Ultimate Digimon is helping us through whatever guards try to block our path. It’s better than just relying on Toy Agumon… I looked beside me.

“Will you be ok with this? I know you have a…”

“I’ll be fine, Jordan! Smelly monkey or not, we need to get in that castle!”

“No idea what’s your beef is with me block man but I dig the energy!”

“Alright then, we’re in.”

“Fantastic, baby! This is gonna be a banging collab! But before we sing our hearts out we gotta plan the gig first!”

He pulled out several rough maps and sketches. “I’ve been watching this place for three years. I know the patrol patterns, the guard rotations, the best approach routes.”

He spread them on the table. “The Frigimon move in pairs. They sweep the perimeter every thirty minutes, perfectly timed. Here—” He drew a straight line on the map. “This is our approach. “

“So…your plan is just to rush head first towards the castle?”

“It’s the quickest way to the castle, my leading man! Frigimon ain’t the fastest, so it’ll take a while before the rest of them notice. So we go in fast and hot, beat up the ones blocking us from rushing in straight first towards the gate!”

“I like the monkey man’s plan, Jordan! We can do this!

“Of course you do…Alright… then we just hope that the slipper opens the gate.”

“If it doesn’t, then at least we tried, but that’s about it!”

He moved back to the chest and pulled out a thick scarf. “Take this too. It’s designed to keep you warm even in the coldest conditions. Will help you from freezing yourself solid before we reach the gate!”

“I can’t take your—”

“Sure you can! Consider it a loan. You’ll pass it back when we finish meeting Cendrillmon, yeah?” He grinned.

I took the scarf. It was surprisingly light but immediately warming when I wrapped it around my neck.

“Hey, we’re real band mates now!” Etemon laughed.

“Get some rest tonight,” Etemon said, gesturing to a pile of blankets in the corner. “Best to approach in the morning when they’re more lax about it, plus the both of ya look like ya need a nap!”

“Thank you, Etemon.”

“You help me and I’ll help you and all that. I’ll see you both in the morning to kick some ass and meet sweet cheeks!”

Toy Agumon was already curling up in the blankets, 

I sat down beside him, pulling out the notebook. I opened it to one of Aoi’s pages.

A little drawing of all six of us. Stick figures, really. Smiling. Happy. Together.

Under it, in her neat handwriting: “Today was fun, let’s do it again!”

I closed the notebook and lay back, listening to the wind howl outside the hut.

Sleep came slowly. I pulled the blanket tighter, trying not to think about tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I will be one step closer to my goal.

I had to be.

Chapter Text

"Even though we came so early, we still can't beat you, Jordan." The woman entering the cafe smiled. Behind her was an older man, her husband.

"Mrs. Takeshima, Mr. Takeshima. It's great to see you again." I said as I stood up, a warm smile on my face.

"Looks like you've grown again, Jordan. And thank you for taking the time to see us all again this year. You must be so busy with your school work."

"Nothing I can't handle, Mrs. Takeshima. How have the both of you been doing?"

"Well enough, though today will be a bit different from the past three visits." Mr. Takeshima said as he took off his jacket, placing it on a chair before sitting down next to Mrs. Takeshima.

"But first, let's get something to drink first, alright dear? No need to rush straight into things."

"You're right, it's just, I feel it's something Jordan should know first. At least before the others."

"Has something happened, Mr. Takeshima?"

"You could say that, nothing bad. Just a change."

We chatted for a while as the drinks and cake came through from the kitchen. My mother ran this cafe after she bought it off the previous owner. We'd revamped the place to look like one we used to go to back in America. It felt like home, and it felt like the perfect place to have this yearly get-together for the five families. I've been arranging this for the past three years, something I told my mom that I had to do. Thankfully, their parents seemed willing to give it a try, and they still come every year.

Mr. and Mrs. Takeshima lived nearby. I'd often meet them when they came by for a drink. Sometimes I could catch a glimpse of them looking towards the school. Today would be the fourth get-together, to let the parents reminisce, and exchange whatever information they could find. Usually, Mr. Takeshi, the club’s teacher, and Detective Shimizu would join us, but they were both busy.

"Are you still preparing to get into University?" Mrs. Takeshima asked, her eyes showing the warmth and care she held for others.

"Yes, I'm aiming for Tokyo University. Mr. Takeshi said I might as well aim for the top."

"Or aim for nothing at all." Mr. Takeshima said as he sipped his coffee. When I first met him, I thought he was the most stern man I'd ever met. Yet deep down, he cared for his family the most. Throughout my time with everyone, I've seen him cry the most. "It's good that he's teaching you well."

I remember the relationship between them and Mr. Takeshi being... rough. But could you blame them? When Mr. Takeshi was supposed to be the teacher in charge of them. And now they were gone, and he didn't even know about it. There were accusations tossed around, that he was a lazy teacher, that he didn't care about others. The police started an investigation on him, and he became prime suspect number one.

In the end, they only found an overworked teacher, being saddled with four different clubs, tasked to work on multiple different projects. He was acquitted of any wrongdoing, but the stress and reputational damage he suffered couldn't be compensated for. He left his position as a teacher, and became a freelance artist, selling his work online. He doesn't make much, but he does what he can to survive. When he's available, he would still tutor me on the weekends. We told him we would pay, but he always refused.

Mrs. Takeshima then took out a photo frame and placed it on the table. Something every family started doing during our get-together, so that it'd feel like they were here with us. Aoi's smile radiated warmth even through a photograph. It'd been years since I saw her, yet I could still remember how much she cared about everyone.

"Jordan... We... We'll be moving out of the neighbourhood at the end of the month." Mrs. Takeshima said as she looked towards me.

"Our therapist, he's been advising us to move on from all this. But every time we wake up and step out of the house, it's like she's there with us. How could we move on when so much of what we have here has traces of our dear Aoi? I... I just can't bear the thought of forgetting her!"

Mrs. Takeshima cried out as tears ran down her face, trying the best she could to control herself. Mr. Takeshima patted her tears down, ignoring the ones coming down his own eyes.

"It's either we keep staying here, and keep the memories of her with us every day. Or we leave, and renew our life elsewhere. We're still young, you know, even if the gray hairs say otherwise... so, perhaps it's time for us to move on." Mr. Takeshima said, looking down.

"A child should never leave this world before their parents... But it's time we accept what has happened, and salvage what life we have left."

"We... Don't know what the rest of them would think. I know Mr. Morita would be furious, thinking we've given up. But, we're just so tired..."

"You don't have to convince me, Mrs. and Mr. Takeshima. I understand. I'd hope that doing this together would help everyone to recover from what has happened. And if this is the best way for the both of you to be happy again, then I'll support your decision."

"Thank you, Jordan. You've always been so kind to us." Mrs. Takeshima said, smiling through the tears.

When I woke up, I found myself staring at a conversation between Etemon and Toy Agumon.

"So you're not evil?"

"I ain't been evil all my life! I used to be a real sensation when I was a Targetmon! I played all around the Digital World with my band! Never heard of the Electric Chimps? We used to be a real hit with the ladies!"

"No?"

"Hmm, well ain't that a bummer, but don't sweat it my blocky buddy! You see when I finally realized my true dream of having a banging solo, I digivolved into this magnificent body before you! And so I took on the name King of Song! And I went all around the Digital World serenading anyone who would listen to me sing! Sure I'd get the occasional hooter and holler but I persisted because my love of song fueled me forward!"

"And that was when I found it, my one true love. It was not the love for the song, no! It was Cendrillmon! When I saw her for the first time years ago, I knew I was in love, baby!"

"Then you got stuck here!"

"Right you are, block man! No evil deeds here! Just the sweet innocent love I have for music and Cendrillmon! Though some of my bandmates used to be real rackets, I haven't seen them in years!"

I rubbed my face to wake myself up completely and got up. Looks like Toy Agumon was interrogating Etemon. We used to have so much trouble beating Etemon in the game, with the insane stat spread that boss digimon had. So much grinding had to be done just to complete that mission. Toy Agumon must still hold a grudge.

Etemon was right about needing a nap though, my mind felt more refreshed, and I was ready to tackle this insane mission of ours. But as I looked around the hut, a question popped into my head.

"Hey, Etemon. Did you build this hut all by yourself in this cold wasteland?"

"Oh you're awake! You mean this hut? Nah I may rip a tune with a guitar but I ain't got the hands for building nothing! I found this hut while I was on my journey to gain Cendrillmon's hand in marriage! This hut just so happened to be here when I needed to rest. I decorated it over the years, but it's mine now, whoever owned it previously never returned anyhow!"

My mind thought back to Palmon's basement as I looked around. Down there, we saw markings pointing south. If Etemon didn't build this place, what if this is connected to the markings?

"Did you find anything when you arrived here?"

"Hmm? Well, it's been a hot minute since I came here, I don't have that good of a memory... Although I did find it kinda weird. It was pretty much barren, other than a few empty barrels and sacks. I kept them in a chest over there, thinking that maybe the previous owners might come but no one ever did."

"Could I take a look?"

"Sure thing! Meanwhile, I'll go pack up what we need!"

"Jordan, what are you thinking about?" Toy Agumon said as he waddled up to me.

"I'm just guessing here but, maybe this hut is related to those stolen seeds..."

"Huh?"

"It's a long shot, I know. But remember those tally marks? There were markings labeled south. If my theory is that the seeds went in different directions. Maybe whoever stole the seeds came down south, really south. But there's nothing here but snow, why store seeds in the freezing cold? Unless they had a building, but there's no other structure out here other than the Castle, and this hut."

I opened the chest that Etemon pointed to. Like he had mentioned, he'd found this hut barren, and this chest echoed that same sentiment. There were only empty sacks... sacks... these sacks look familiar.

I picked one up and took a good look at it, felt it in my hand. Unless people here in the Digital World use only one type of sack, this must be the same kind that was in Palmon's basement.

"That sack looks like the same one we used to bring the seeds back!" Toy Agumon said as he noticed what I was thinking.

"Yeah... Looks like we found a possible location for where those seeds went. But no seeds, nor any indication of the robber."

"Etemon, did you really not see anyone who might have been the owner of this hut?"

"Nope, it was completely abandoned when I came! Not even a single bit of furniture! I had to break down the empty barrels to make furniture! I covered most of my bad workmanship with fabric I bought, but I'd say it turned out swimmingly!"

So they transported a few seeds to this hut. The question is, where are the seeds now? Perhaps they were given to the Frozen Castle? That would make the most logical sense, right?

"Alright, I'm all ready to get a move on and beat up some snowmen!" Etemon said.

I turned around to see him geared up in his snow coat, and covering his hands were a pair of boxing gloves.

"Boxing gloves?"

"Well, I don't want to kill the poor guys out there. They were real nice chaps to me before all this. So I'll just knock them out long enough for us to get through those gates!"

"That's nice of you."

"Heh, what can I tell ya, I'm a true gentleman!"

"So no E.X.P.?" Toy Agumon said as he tilted his head.

"Ah... thanks for reminding me. Etemon, when you, well, kill another Digimon, do you get stronger?"

"Huh? What kind of question is that, kid? 'Course not, that's some crazy talk. Heck, that sounds like something straight out of a horror movie! Those warrior folk would start killing everyone if that's the case!"

"Right, sorry for the weird question."

"Aw, no sweating it, kid. I'm guessing it's always going to be sorta weird with you being human and all. But anyhow, let's get going while the sun is still out! Oh, and before I forget, here!"

Etemon handed me and Toy Agumon a pair of sunglasses each.

"Something to keep the sunlight outta your eyes. You really can't see a thing when the snow reflects it right into your eyes! And no need to thank me, I have loads of them! In fact, the one I have is like my thousandth one!"

We headed back out into the harsh, cold wasteland once again. This time, instead of cold battering winds, we were faced by the blinding light of the sun bearing down on us, reflecting from the white snow. Without these sunglasses, I wouldn't have been able to see a thing, together with the scarf Etemon handed me yesterday, keeping me warmer than before.

We trudged through the snow, keeping an eye out for any guards that might come at us. Etemon seemingly knew where exactly to go and didn't even need a compass to guide him.

"I've done this route a thousand times, just follow me!" he said.

Toy Agumon hopped through the snow beside me. I still couldn't get over how ridiculous the sunglasses looked on his blocky face, but I didn't want to laugh at him.

"Woah! Guards spotted dead ahead, get ready, folks!" Etemon shouted as he shifted his body into a boxing stance.

I squinted my eyes and could finally make out the figures in the distance. They were far from us. But they definitely saw us, their eyes making direct contact with me. I thought we had time to prepare ourselves, with them being so far away. I didn't expect them to close the distance so quickly, so rapidly. As though there wasn't any snow underneath them, the Frigimon just blitzed through all of it to get to us. It only took a few seconds for them to reach us.

"Alright, you snowmen, time to go to sleep for a bit!" Etemon said before slamming his fist down onto one of the Frigimon, but the other one ran past him, going straight at me.

"No way you're getting past me! [Toy Flame]!" Toy Agumon shot a fireball straight at the Frigimon, knocking it back.

"Heh! Nice work, block man! Take this! [Mach Jab]!" With an insanely fast jab, it made contact with the Frigimon. The force caused it to fly a distance away from us.

"Alright! Faster than I thought, we cleared them, great! Let's keep going!"

Etemon started moving faster. We didn't know when those Frigimon would wake up, nor when the others would notice us entering their borders. So we pressed on, faster than before. We needed to reach that gate!

We ran through the snow, our breath coming in ragged gasps. The cold burned my lungs but I didn't dare slow down.

"How much further?!" I shouted over the wind.

"Not far! See that ridge up ahead? Once we crest that, the gates should be in view!" Etemon called back, his orange tail whipping behind him as he bounded through the snow.

Toy Agumon was struggling. His short legs couldn't keep the same pace, and he was sinking deeper into the snow with each step.

"Jordan!" he called out.

I didn't think, I just scooped him up and kept running. He was heavier than I expected—solid plastic weighed more than it looked—but adrenaline kept me moving.

"Thanks!" he said nervously.

"Save your energy for fighting!" I panted.

We crested the ridge.

And stopped.

The castle rose from the white wasteland like something from a fever dream. Spires of ice reached toward the grey sky, each one perfectly formed, glittering in the harsh sunlight. The walls were translucent—I could see light moving within them, shifting colors that shouldn't exist in ice.

But it wasn't the castle that made me stop.

It was the approach.

The path to the gates was lined with frozen Digimon. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.

Frozen mid-step. Frozen mid-reach. Frozen mid-scream.

Some were small—Rookie level, maybe. Others were massive—Champion, Ultimate, sizes I couldn't even guess. All of them perfectly preserved in ice, their expressions visible through the crystalline prisons.

Closer to us, I could see the Covenant missionaries Etemon had mentioned.

Three Digimon dressed in pristine white robes, now covered in ice. One held a book—the same kind Angemon had given us. Another had their hands raised in prayer or blessing.

The third was mid-speech, mouth open, eyes closed.

"What the hell..." I breathed.

"That's what I tried to tell ya, kid," Etemon said quietly, all his usual bravado gone. "Don't know what the hell has been going on, but this ain't right."

"They're dead... aren't they?"

"Probably. I didn't even dare to get any closer. Look past the statues and you'll see what I mean."

I looked at where Etemon was pointing, and I swore my blood froze. There I saw Frigimon, not in the dozens, but in the hundreds. Roaming around the perimeter of the castle, guarding it.

"Looks like the situation has gotten worse since the last time I was here. There were only half of those before."

"Half?! We were going to rush into half of those guys?! That's still like fifty of them!"

"I said I was strong didn't I? With the block man over here helping me out we could do some real damage. But a hundred is stretching it a little."

I stared at the horde of Frigimon. Just how do we get past that...

"Hey, kid. You're using your head too much! This ain't the type of problem you can solve with thinking!" Etemon said as he looked at me. "You wanna save the folks back at your settlement, yeah?!"

"Yes!" I said as I looked at him.

"And I wanna save my beautiful sweetheart from whatever happened to her! So there's only one choice in all of this, baby! We bulldoze through those snowmen, and we get you to that gate!"

"Yeah! We can do this, Jordan!"

"...Alright, fuck it, we ball."

"Hell yeah! Gloves off! It's time to party!" Etemon said as he took his gloves off, stretching his arms out.

"Alright! [Upgrade]! [Burning Heart]!" Toy Agumon shouted as he buffed himself, his figure becoming bigger as I felt the heat radiating from him. "Let's beat them up!"

"I'm counting on you guys... Let's do this!"

"CHARGE!" "CHARGE!" "CHARGE!" We shouted in unison as we ran towards the horde of Frigimon.

"HAH! Take this! [Spiral Driver]!" Etemon charged through a bunch of Frigimon, flinging them into the sky.

"[Anti-Attack Field]! You aren't going to beat us! [Firewall]!" A huge wall of fire burst out of the ground, covering the Frigimon in flames. Some of the Frigimon caught in the fire died immediately, turning into E.X.P. for Toy Agumon.

"Alrigh,t kid! Get your booty onwards to that Gate. We'll protect you along the way! Hah! [Mach Jab]!"

"Got it!"

"Quickly! I think these dumb snowcones will end up surrounding us the closer we get to the gate! We won't be able to keep them back long!" Toy Agumon shouted as he let out another Toy Flame.

I ran as fast as I could through the snow, trying my best to move as quickly as possible without tripping over the thick snow. Frigimon came from all sides, some getting extremely close to me, but I trusted Etemon and Toy Agumon to protect me.

I could see the gates right ahead. The gates of the Frozen Kingdom towered above us, easily thirty feet tall. I could see the decoration on the gate made of pure ice, but carved with such intricate detail it looked like lace. I would have loved to stare at it longer if it weren't for the killer snowmen trying to rip our faces open.

As we got closer, the Frigimon stopped trying only to attack us with their fists. They began throwing snowballs at us. I didn't know how dangerous those were, but I didn't want to find out as we ran forward.

"This is starting to become real dicey! Take this! [Hell Crusher]!" Etemon's hands got wrapped in a dark sphere before it slammed into the ground, causing a shockwave of dark energy to flow out, causing the Frigimon in front of us to fly back.

"[Firewall]! [Firewall]! [Toy Flame]! Are we there yet?!"

Almost! It was right there! I pushed myself further, running as fast as my legs could take me. We're almost there!

Come on!

Come on!

Yes!

I took out the glass slipper that was hidden in my coat. Now just what the hell do I do with this thing?!

"Raise it up! Let the gate see it!" Etemon shouted as he fought off the Frigimon that were rushing in.

I raised the glass slipper up as high as I could. And as the light shone on its surface, the gate started to open. We did it!

"Hell yeah, baby! It worked! Alright, block man. Let's blast these bad boys away and get in there!"

"Right with you, monkey man!"

"[Spiral Driver]!" Etemon shouted as he cocked his arm back before releasing a strong punch out, a shockwave bursting out from it towards the Frigimon.

"[Plastic Blaze]!" Toy Agumon, using a new move I'd never seen before, let out a pixelized fire missile straight at them.

"Alright! Let's get in before they recover!" I shouted as I rushed in, both of them following behind.

And as we entered, the gate closed behind us. We were now in the Frozen Castle, but something felt off. It was quiet... too quiet.

Chapter Text

Something felt off. It was quiet... too quiet. In front of us was a huge hallway that stretched so far we couldn’t see the end of it. The walls were made of some type of stone brick and the floor made of marble. This hallway we were in felt completely different from the castle we entered. I expected some kind of ornate entrance, yet this looked more like a dungeon to me. This didn’t feel right at all. I could feel it.

“I don’t remember this being here…” Etemon said as he looked around “something's very wrong here…”

I looked back behind us, wanting to take a look at the at the door we had just entered from. But it wasn’t there. Instead behind us was the same hallway going down all the way to somewhere.

Just… where are we?!

“We passed through that gate right? The door is gone…”

“Yeah! We ran in right after we blasted those Frigimon!”

“This ain’t the castle anymore, don’t recognize none of this. There wasn’t a freaky long corridor the last time I was here. Either they redecorated or we are someplace else…”

“What should we do?” I asked Etemon

“We.. errr. Move forward I guess? Look kid, I ain’t got a clue about what’s going on here. Never seen anything like this.”

“Jordan… I can feel something’s wrong.”

“Alright… we can only move forwards then. Let’s go.”

“Just stay close together, we don’t want anything catching the jump on us.”

We moved through the corridor slowly, keeping an eye for what’s in front of us and behind us. But as we kept walking down this hallway, it felt like it was never ending.

The walls and floor kept blending together, and I couldn’t figure out if we were even making progress anymore. It’s like it stretched on infinitely… I looked at Toy Agumon as he looked around nervously. I hadn’t seen him this nervous before… just what is it about this place…

Now that I think about it, I felt a similar way before. Like when I first arrived in this world. That odd feeling of my body not feeling right, as though it was completely foreign to me. Yet instead of my body feeling that way, it was my surroundings…

“Toy Agumon.”

“Jordan?”

“Could you leave a mark on the wall here? Like a scratch.”

“Hmm? Umm ok! Hiya!” Toy Agumon’s hand clawed at the wall leaving 3 slash marks across it.

“Hmmm, you think we’ve been walking in circles?” Etemon asked as he looked at the mark.

“Yeah, both me and Toy Agumon have been feeling like something is really off about this place. Better to be safe than sorry.”

“Alright, good thinking.”

The three of us kept walking again, I stared at the left wall as we walked. Maybe it’d come back again, that it’d signify we were walking in circles. Because the only other explanation is that we’re stuck in a never ending corridor. And I don’t know which is worse…

We kept walking, endlessly, but no sign of the cut made by Toy Agumon. We just kept walking forwards, onwards and onwards.

“Grrr ahhh! This is really annoying!” Toy Agumon shouted

“Just how long is this corridor…”

“Hey kid… the mark you made with the block man. It was three cuts right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

Etemon then pointed to the ceiling above us, both me and Toy Agumon looked up. There, on the ceiling was the exact mark Toy Agumon made to the wall. 3 lines cut diagonally. We had cut it on the left wall, so why the hell was it on top?

“W-what… is going on?”

“I don’t know, kid, but I don’t like this one bit…”

Etemon looked to the left of us. And he cocked back his arm.

“Stand back! If it ain’t gonna end, then I’ll take things into my own hands baby! Ha! [Spiral Driver]!”

Etemon’s punch rocketed into the stone brick wall, rattling the hallway as both me and Toy Agumon tried to maintain our balance. And as the dust settled from the blow, we found the wall blown up, only to find skeletons behind the wall.

Etemon and Toy Agumon looked confused as they stared at the pile of bones packed and hidden behind the wall, only I froze. My blood running cold, I could feel whatever was still in my stomach threatening to bubble up.

In this world, every Digimon that died turned into data, disappearing into the air. But I knew it differently, and the shape of those skeletons made it worse. Those were human skeletons, the shape of the skulls being very familiar. There were so many… enough to compact themselves where it became a wall of yellowish white bones.

But why? Why were human bones here? Nothing makes sense just where the hell are we?!

(They didn’t care about us.)

A beautiful voice whispered into my ear, soft and elegant. A voice that I felt I could listen to for years, its warmth wrapping around me like a blanket on a winter night.

(They threw us away.)

It sees I wasn’t the only one as Etemon and Toy Agumon started looking around. The voice. It’s so soothing, the perfect voice. I could…

(They never wanted us around…)

Just where is it coming from, I want to… no. No, what's going on?!

(They’ll never apologise.)

Argh! It hurts! I…I want to.. No! Stop! Argh! I love y- argh!

(They’ll never wipe our tears)

The world breaks down around me, the stone walls cracking like glass as it falls apart leaving us in a white expanse of pure nothing. Just an empty void. But I knew what the void felt like, in Yggdrasil’s room. That was true nothingness. This.. there was something.

(We wanted everyone to be happy, but they kept taking and taking and taking and taking…)

Argh! That voice! Make it stop!

“J-Jordan!! Argh!” Toy Agumon shouted as he clutched his head.

“Just… what?!” Etemon shouted as well as he writhed on the floor.

(So, why are you here?)

My hands started clenching hard as I tried my best to resist whatever was going on. Something, whatever this is, is trying to mess with me somehow! Just what is this?! Why…why am I trying so hard to resist? I…all I have to do is let it in… argh! No! No!

(What do you desire?)

The white void flashed, blinding me for a second before I could open my eyes again. Yet the first sound I heard made me question my sanity. I could hear the sound of a car from my window. I knew that sound, I remembered that sound. I opened my eyes to find a bedroom.

My bedroom, in my old house, in America. I could see the posters of random bands my dad wanted me to get into that I never did. The messy drawers I had that I never bothered to tidy. The toys I had scattered around, the ones I’d always play with before bed. The singular window that looked out in front of the house. Where the sound came from.

I looked out, and saw the neighbourhood I thought I’d never see again. The rows of suburban homes all looked similar yet differed slightly in colors and roofs. I could see a few of my neighbours out on their lawns doing their daily chores. And my father’s car that had just rolled in. I could see him stepping out of it, looking younger than I remembered. Did I come back in time? Just what is happening?

I decided to get out of my room and walk downstairs. The motions felt so familiar, I felt like I really was home. The door out to see the bathroom, the stairs down to the living room. Nothing seemed out of place, it felt exactly like how I remembered it.

As I got down to the living room, I saw my parents hugging at the door. My dad wore a polo shirt with his usual brown long pants. I remember him always joking that he wore it in case something goes wrong at his job.

Mom just wore her usual dress, looking younger. She left her job to raise me, and never thought to go back after dad got promoted. She found the life of a housewife fun, always hanging out with the other housewives in the neighbourhood. She would always bring me out to join community events and charity fundraisers. But when we arrived in Japan, she had to find something else to do.

“So? How did your meeting go?”

“As well as it could have. Saying no to Martin was really difficult”

No? No… he was supposed to say that things were going to change. That we were going to move to a whole new country. That’s how it went.

“You saying no? Looks like you’re making progress! It must be some crazy request.”

“Yeah, asked me to head our new branch in Japan.”

“Japan? You rejected going to Japan? Jacob, didn’t you…”

“I know… Thought about it long and hard, but I couldn’t just uproot my entire family just because of my own wishes, right? You have your whole friend group here, plus Jordan’s still in middle school. I couldn’t do that to the both of you, even as much as I wish to get away from your parents.”

“Jeez, you know we would have been supportive of moving.”

“Yeah, that’s why I had to make this decision myself.” Dad turned as he noticed me coming down the stairs and smiled.

“There’s my champ, how was sleeping in today?”

Exactly what he said when he saw me on that day. And the next thing he’ll say is.

“Hey, I have three tickets for us all to head out and watch the game on the weekend. Think you're down to hang with your mom and dad?”

Exactly those words, he wanted to dampen the news of us leaving the country. He’d always been prepping us to go there, making me take extra lessons just to learn Japanese. It was always his dream. And he managed to fulfill it when we settled there. My dad was happy, and my mom found a new passion running her cafe. While I…just drifted.

Dad would never have said no, this was his dream. It was the one thing that kept him going. And mom would always be behind dad, rooting for it. This would never happen.

“Jordan? You okay there?”

Just…what the hell is going on?

(Isn’t this what you desire? What you had wished for every night?)

That voice, it’s that voice again. That sweet serenade, I…I just can’t refuse… No stop! Get…Get out of my head!

“G-get out…”

“Son?”

“Of my head!” I clutched my head as it started ringing. The more I tried to resist, the more pain shot through my skull. Rattling it, like it was punishing me for refusing. As though it was an insult to not surrender to that voice.

(I can make it a reality, your dreams become true. You could live here forever, happily ever after…)

Could it? Could the voice really do that? What if I stayed in America…Alex, Micheal, Christina…I hadn’t seen them in years, I… I missed them… I could just stay here…

“Who…are you?!” I shouted, my last-ditch effort as I collapsed onto my knees. My breathing was ragged as I tried my hardest to keep myself together. To not fall to whatever demon plagues my mind.

(Don’t you remember me? We used to be so close; we used to play together every day. How could you forget?)

The world in front of me collapses again, my parents disappearing into the void as I find myself in it again. Mom…Dad… I… no, focus. I can’t give up here. I need to get up!

I clutched my teeth as I stood up, and before I knew it, I was in a completely new location. The world is reconstructing around me. Pieces flew and locked into place, like someone forming a jigsaw puzzle out of glass, and soon the picture was completed, and it was all too familiar.

I found myself in a hallway, specifically my middle school hallway, and it was the late afternoon. Looking out the window, I could see students leaving the campus. But I was still here, walking towards the foot of the stairwell. Ready to climb up to exactly the third floor, heading left down the hallway to class 3-10.

I stood outside the door, the little hand drawn sign reading “Study Support Club” with a badly drawn Agumon on the corner. I never knew where that paper went after that day. All I knew was that this room would never be the same again. Yet unlike that day, I could hear the sound of battling, the beeps that indicated damage, the cries and sounds of various Digimons.

At the time, I didn’t understand it. It just sounded like noise to me, like the sounds of an arcade, all jumbled up. Yet now, I could recognize every single one. A fire attack from a Metal Greymon, the punch of a GarpLeomon, the cry of an Airdramon. I could visualize every single one. I’ve heard all of them before, individually.

Yet for the first time, I heard them being played all at once, something I never thought I’d hear again. I could hear the laughter, this time I couldn’t tell whose. It’s been so many years… I couldn’t even tell whose voice it was. They never left a video recording of themselves, their parents only had family photos of them. I could barely remember their faces, only the faded photos that their parents would bring every year…

This… whatever this was. It’s trying to play with my mind, using my memories against me. You want me to open this door…

(That’s what you desire, isn’t it? To go back to how it was? Back to when everything was ok? We know this place well. I’ve seen this scene so many times.)

“Who are you… really.”

(You still can’t remember? The times we fought together, against each other? The times we went out, to enjoy each other's company? We were happy then.)

You’re not them… you're not Aoi….

(No, I’m not, but I was always there too.)

“You’re her partner Digimon… it…” I tried to remember, shifting through the memories as I looked for the ones I had with Aoi. The times I helped her shop for sweets to buy for her parents, the days I stayed back to help her with English, the days where we all went out to see a movie… we’d always bring our digivice wherever we went.

“You… your Aoi’s Palmon…”

(That’s right, I was a Palmon. You remembered me. Even after all these years, you remembered who I was…)

“I will never forget that day. When I couldn’t open this door. We kept searching, hoping we’d find a trace of them. But nothing, not a single clue. As though they disappeared off the face of the earth. Just what happened?”

(We didn’t know. When we woke up. We were here.)

The world shifted again, breaking down into the same white void before reconstructing itself back together. The pieces of the jigsaw puzzle changed into an entirely new world around me. I found myself standing in the middle of Haven’s Rest again. But it looked completely different from what I knew.

The tree that stood at the center of Haven’s Rest. Last I saw it the leaves fell constantly, it was clearly dying. Yet the one in front of me now was full of life, glowing with energy like I’d never seen before.

Around me I could see lively Digimon, smiles on their faces as they went about their daily lives. Laughter, something I’d never heard before back when I was there. 

Behind me, I could see five children. No, I knew them. Kenji, Daichi, Aoi, Mei, Aoi, standing close to each other, staring wide eyed at their surroundings, clutching eggs as they tried to make sense of what had happened. 

(So many things have happened. So many things… we do not wish to relive them.)

The world shatters again, back to the white void.

(What do you wish for, Jordan? What do you want? I can make it happen. Just for you.)

“I… I want to bring Aoi back home. To the human world. To be with her family again. I want to do that for everyone. For her, for Daichi, Kenji, Mei, Riku. All of them.”

(But what makes you think they want that, Jordan?)

“So that they can see their families, so we can all go back!”

(But don't you see? We are back.)

The world reforms around me, and I find myself back to the hallway. The door to class 3-11 in front of me once again.

(You can be back, where none of us ever disappeared, where the digital world didn’t exist. We can be happy here. All you have to do is open the door. They’re all waiting for you.)

I stare at the handle. I could feel the urge to open it. To let myself be taken in, to accept this world. It’s so easy, all the pain I felt would be reset. Life would be fun again…

“You’re telling me to live a lie.”

(It’s not a lie if you choose to believe it. All we want is to be happy, what’s the harm of wanting? What’s the harm of lusting for a world that loves us back?)

“You’re choosing to ignore reality! That’s not going to fix anything!”

(Why face reality when we have this? Why can’t we just be happy?)

“Sure, you can lie to yourself and live in a dream. You can keep dreaming. But when does it end?! You have to wake up some day!”

(No, that’s where you're wrong. We’ll keep dreaming, we’ll keep being happy. And you will too.)

The sharp pain pierced through my skull again as I clutched my head in agony. The pain pulsates, like something is rampaging around in my head.

(I dreamed a dream that one day we will all be happy. That we’d all stay in this room together and enjoy our lives.)

“Y-your… rejecting life itself.. this isn’t right!”

(Why accept life when it doesn’t accept us? Why fight when we can just dream?)

“Because you’ll be abandoning the people who care about you, the people who love you! Aoi’s parents. They’ve been searching for years. Hoping that one day she’s come back. That one day she’d step through their front door again. Even as they left town, they still traveled back hoping we’d find a new lead or clue. They kept their hope alive. Even if it made them suffer.”

“This?! This isn’t happiness! It’s a lie! A lie we tell ourselves to feel better, but it’s not real!”

(It’s a beautiful lie! I don’t care! If you won’t understand then I’ll make you!)

The pain surged again as I screamed into the void. The voice forced itself into my head. My arms started moving against my will, slowly I reached over to the door. I have to resist. This isn’t right!

(Embrace our reality! Why can’t you see that you're hurting yourself! Join us! Accept who we are!)

“I’ll accept you both? But not like this! This is not you, this isn’t Aoi!”

(What do you know?!)

“I knew both of you! That’s what matters!”

The world breaks down, its light blinding me for a second as the pain suddenly dissipates leaving me free from its struggle. As I regain my sight, I find myself looking at a Palmon.

(Why do you try so hard to reject my love?)

I could see Palmon's mouth moving, yet the voice didn’t come from it. The voice is still somewhere in my mind, like a parasite stuck in my skull.

“This is what you call love? No, this isn’t love. This is a trap, a trick to look away from reality.”

(And what’s so bad about that?)

“Because you’ll keep living in the past, to relive what ifs and what could be. Never moving forward, never seeing what’s out there. The possibilities, the joys you never knew you could feel.”

(But aren’t these the same? Possibilities. Why venture out into the woods when it’s safer to stay inside?)

“Why stay inside never to experience joy again? Why surrender yourself to fear?”

(Because it’s too painful, too much to bear.)

“Then let me help! I’m here! You don’t have to do this alone!”

(Alone… we’ve been alone. For years… they didn't apologize, they never came looking. We’re so alone.)

“Not anymore! Please! Let me help you both!”

(…)

The world suddenly tilts and I find myself toppling down into the abyss of white nothing. Falling endlessly as I tried to reach for something, anything. I would scream if a voice would leave my throat, I’d cry if tears would rain down my face. My heart would race if it had a beat. I was falling, yet not at all…

I rose up from the ground panting, trying to catch my breath as though I’d just woke up from a dream. As I look around me I could see myself in a grand entrance, chandeliers made of ice dangling from the ceiling and ornate decorations align the walls of this frozen palace. But the room was shaking from the fight in front of me. 

I could see Etemon back in front of me, scratches all over his body as he tried his best to keep a fighting stance. In front of him were 3 Warumonzaemon, big grey teddy bears with a giant claw on their left arm. Etemon would duck and weave past their claws, trying his best to not get hit while dishing out whatever damage he could.

“Hey kid! I ain’t gonna last long against these bozos! You’ve gotta wake block man up before we all get crushed by these wanna be rockers! Shit! I ain’t going down you oversized plush toys! [Spiral Driver]!”

I looked beside me to see Toy Agumon on the ground, his eyes closed yet I could see the pain on his expression, sweat pouring down his blocky face. We needed his strength, before those bears get a good hit on Etemon.

I reached out to Toy Agumon, hoping that I could do something to help him wake up. As I got closer, a light flashed.

I was in a familiar place again, this time not from a long time ago. No, I've been here recently. My dorm room in university. But why this place?

“Toy Agumon?” I called out, looking around the room.

It was messier than I’d last remembered it, empty cup noodles stacked on the desk next to my laptop with a pile of legal books each with their own colorful sticky notes sticking out of their pages. The countless hours I would spend combing through books just to prepare myself for an exam. And to destress, I would always turn to the digivice and play a few rounds…

I looked around the room again, and finally found Toy Agumon crouched in the far corner of the room, next to my bed.

“Toy Agumon?”

“J-Jordan?” He cried out, as he turned towards me. “Jordan!”

He ran over to me

“I’ve been stuck here for ages waiting for you. The voice kept bothering me so I stayed here! I was sure you were going to come back!”

“How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know, it feels like it’s been forever though!”

“Right…now we just need to get out of here…”

I walked over to turn the knob on my room’s door but it didn’t budge. As though it was made solid, without the mechanisms of a door knob. Like an imitation of one, like someone didn’t bother to even make it work. We were stuck in here…

Chapter Text

I twisted, pulled, and pushed; nothing I did would make this doorknob move an inch, as if it were bolted down, glued, and fastened. We were stuck in here, unless we tried to break the door down. But the moment I thought of that, the door shifted into a wall, as though responding to my thoughts.

I looked back, and the curtains I'd always kept closed hid away the windows behind. I moved closer and ripped it apart, only to find that the windows looking out to the forest next to the university campus were instead a wall of skeletons. Just like the one I saw when Etemon broke the wall in the corridor. Human skeletons, the empty eye sockets of a skull stared back at me, along with a dozen others. The gaps were filled with bones of rib cages, legs, arms, hands, and the rest.

I stared at the bones for longer than I would have liked, trying to wrap my mind around what was happening. The world was reacting to my actions, as though it didn't want me to leave, trapping me in my own room.

And as I stared longer at the bones, I noticed something odd: the skulls that looked at me all seemed identical. From the way the skull was shaped, down to the imperfections. All of them were exactly the same. As though the same texture was copied and pasted on every single skeleton.

"Palmon!" I yelled, trying to get its attention. "Let us out! Nothing about this will help any of us!"

"Jordan?" Toy Agumon asked, confusion written all over his face. "Why are you calling out to Palmon?"

"Aoi's partner… she's trapped us all in this. Dream. I don't know what. But I somehow managed to get out of the one I was in…"

The one I was in, the dream. First, I was in my childhood home in America, right when I found out we were moving to Japan. The next was right in front of the locked club room door. But this, this is just my dorm room.

The empty cup noodle on the desk, the piles of legal books stacked up high, only reminded me of the effort I'd have to put in to become a lawyer. But this was nothing compared to the emotions I had back then. Because this wasn't my dream, it was Toy Agumon's.

"Toy Agumon. Come on, let's get out of here. We can't stay here."

"Huh? But we're safe here!"

"Safe? No, Etemon is out there protecting us right now. We need to wake up, you need to wake up!"

"Who cares about that stinky monkey! We're safe in your room! We can go back to how it always was! Just us, safe!"

"Toy Agumon…"

"It's been nothing but danger and danger since we arrived in the digital world! I'm not as strong as I was anymore, and I'm not earning enough E.X.P. to evolve fast enough!"

"You don't…"

"We barely were able to escape from all those Frigimon… and even after beating a ton of them, I still haven't evolved yet! And we don't know what else is out there!"

I stood still, not able to reply to Toy Agumon. Because I understood it, the danger we were both in. Danger after danger, it's been non-stop since we've arrived here. Not a single breath was taken to stop and take in our situation. My mind was so railroaded into finding the five of them that I hadn't even stopped to think about how ridiculous all of this was.

Have I been running into all of this so stupidly? Ignoring all the warning signs just because I wanted to solve a mystery six years ago? I… I barely even knew them, right? Hell, I knew their families better than them, yet… yet…

What am I doing… Why am I here? Just…

…

…

…

 Every time I question myself, I lose sight of what's in front of me. Of the things I can do, the things I can help with, the people that need me. Of course, I could run away; of course, I could just hide.

"Yet I choose to move forward."

"Jordan?"

"Unfathomable dangers lie ahead, Toy Agumon. Who knows what's even trapped us in this dream? A mega-level Digimon? Some that are capable of killing us in an instant? Perhaps the world decides it doesn't like humans being here and decides to wipe me out. Like some kind of anti-virus ridding itself of unwanted code."

"I know how stupid this all is, I know how messed up everything is. But I choose to continue forward, not because I know I'll be safe, but because I can help. Maybe it's some kind of sickness, that I need to constantly be of help to others but it's who I am."

"Those years I spent helping their families recover, the hours I put in to volunteer, those were days, months, years I could have spent on myself, on things everyone else would have done, but I didn't."

"Because I knew I'd regret every single second knowing that I could have helped someone. That's just who I am, Toy Agumon."

I knelt down in front of Toy Agumon.

"You've been with me all those years. You've seen me put in those hours, just as I told you before, because it's the right thing to do. Because I see no other better way than to use whatever life I have."

"Aoi's waiting for me somewhere in this god forsaken castle. I can feel it. And whether or not we can make it there, whether or not we will survive, I don't know. But I know I must at least try to do what I can to help her. Because I know whatever happens, it's the right thing to do."

"It's going to be scary, sometimes it's going to seem like everything we've done is useless. A risk that has to pay out, a mission with no reward. But I only hope that at the end of all of this, there's going to be a day when I'm at that table, in my mother's cafe. A table, full of smiles and joy, celebrating a reunion, awaits everyone."

"So, Toy Agumon. My friend. My… well, only friend. For these past six years. Will you help me, will you join this, absolute fool, to save five people who may not even want my help?"

Toy Agumon stares into my eyes, tears flowing down his face as his eyes tell me everything I need to know. I let the silence continue, for both of us. I could feel something, a connection. As though we'd finally understood each other, even if it's just a little.

The room morphs around us, changing the scenery to one I feel unfamiliar with, yet recognizable. Lush green grass as far as the eye can see, with a tall tree behind Toy Agumon, with distinct yellow flowers littering its leaves.

Then it hit me, this world was one I knew, but only from behind a screen. This was the world inside the Digivice, where Toy Agumon would sleep, eat, and train. The home world.

"I… I've always been here." Toy Agumon said, his voice softer than ever before.

He looked to the left, and as I followed his gaze, I found something strange. An old Television box, so old it looked like someone bought it off an antique roadshow. It was plugged into nothing, yet still had something rolling on screen.

The screen only showed black and white; the picture was hazy and flickered intermittently. Yet I could still make out what it was showing. It was me… younger, sitting at my desk studying. Was this… what Toy Agumon saw while he was in his Digivice?

"I didn't understand what was happening. When I was born, everything seemed senseless. I was alone, here. With only this thing to keep me company."

"I would stare at it, hoping something would happen. When it finally turned on, I saw this."

The screen switched to a new scene. I had expected my face to appear, but instead, a child I didn't recognize showed up. I knew the background; it was the club room. The small doodles on the walls gave it away, yet I didn't know who this child was.

"When it turned on, I was confused about what I was looking at. Then, suddenly, meat came down from the sky."

"I'd eat and become full, but more kept coming. When I saw the ones I ate disappear, I was scared and ate the rest. I didn't know if the meat would ever come again."

"Then a few minutes after that, I was forced to train, punching bags, treadmills. I didn't understand anything at first, just the sudden compulsion to do it. And when I'd become exhausted, with no energy left, I was transported into an arena to fight a rookie Digimon."

"I… remember dying. I didn't even get an attack in before getting killed by a single attack."

"When I woke up. Everything was dark, I couldn't move, couldn't speak, hear… it was just… nothing."

"But I could see the TV, it was just right there, but it was off. So I waited. And waited. But it never turned back on."

"I was scared, I wanted to move, to eat, to break out, I was tired, in pain. I'd hope that the TV would turn back on so food would come back, so I could get to rest. But nothing… for so long…”

"T-then, when I thought I'd never eat again. It turned back on."

The TV switched on to reveal my face when I first received the Digivice from Kenji.

"The darkness disappeared, and I could finally walk again."

"You didn't send me to battle; you fed me, let me sleep, and trained me. We'd spend so much time together, and I could see you on the TV. You never left me alone; you always made sure to see me every day. I… I was so happy."

"And when you finally sent me into my first battle, I was scared at first. But I believed in you, that you believed that I could win that battle. So I did my best and digivolved, and we managed to win!"

"From then on, I always knew I'd be your partner, that I'd never leave your side! That whenever the day comes when you need me, I'd protect you! Like you did for me!"

"I know I rush into things, that I'm always hot-headed. But that is who I am, too! Because I want to do my best to protect you! To be the one who enters danger first! But I'm so weak! I… I can't protect you like this!"

"You spent so many years training me, helping me to grow, yet I'm stuck in this form! And yet, you still won't abandon me…"

"I'd never do that, Toy Agumon. You know that. After all, you're my best friend."

"Jordan… could… could I get a hug?"

"Of course."

I pulled Toy Agumon into a hug, his plastic body feeling warmer than I'd ever thought it would. I could feel him placing his hand on my back slowly, still unsure that this was all real. Then, when he had come to accept everything, he pulled me in tighter.

"This… this feels great… thank you, Jordan. For not abandoning me. I-I… was so alone…”

"Me too… but not when I had you. And now both of us are together."

I looked at Toy Agumon before smiling.

"Hey, we kicked ass in the game. We can do it again here, right?"

"Yeah! Yeah! Let's do it!"

Toy Agumon jumps around as he starts doing mini laps around me.

"I'll beat all of those suckers! I'll show them who's who! I'll show them our bond!"

Then, suddenly, a weird glitch flashed, and Toy Agumon's form changed. Now running around me was a tall, flaming humanoid, Meramon.

"I'll burn them to ashes! Nothing will stop us from helping others!" A deeper voice echoed from Meramon, before he glitched again into a new form.

Now his body resembled that of a professional bodybuilder, wrapped in chains and blue flames, his face covered by a skull mask with flaming, blue, spiky hair. SkullMeramon.

"No one will be able to stop us. I will protect you all the way! There's nothing we can't do!"

SkullMeramon then glitched, his skin turning green, the chains breaking apart into an even larger body with bolts lodged into it. A weird metal mask covered his face, as his hair turned red. With an axe on his back, this was Boltmon.

He stopped, looking down as he towered over me. I could feel the sheer power that he could wield in this form, not too far off the power I felt from BanchoLeomon. This… the power of a Mega…

"There is no world, no dimension, no enemy, no villain, nothing that will stop me from protecting you, Jordan! I am Boltmon, SkullMeramon, Meramon, Toy Agumon, Agumon, Gummymon, Koromon, and so much more. Yet, there is nothing else I'd rather be called than be called your friend."

I smiled. This bond, even if I didn't fully understand it, I could feel it. The warmth I felt, this feeling we shared. Words could never explain it, and nor should they be able to.

"You'll always be my friend, and I'll always be yours."

I reached out my hand to Boltmon.

"So let's do this together!"

Boltmon then glitched again, before returning to Toy Agumon. He jumped up and clasped my hand tight.

"Hell yeah! Let's go get them!"

The world shifted once again, forming back to my old dorm room. This time, the mess was all cleared, the bed tidied up, and the air smelled fresh. The curtains were drawn back, revealing an open window that showed the view I loved to see whenever I woke up. The broad open view of the forest next to the university. I could hear the birds chirping and the ambient sounds of everyone going about their day.

As I looked at my desk, I couldn't see the laptop I'd always left on my desk, filled with all the coursework I had to get through. Nor did I see any of the books I'd have to drudge through to prep myself for the upcoming exams. Instead, only the Digivice, its plastic worn out where my hands would be, the blue fading out to be a light blue, almost blending into the white plastic.

Something about it felt right, as though it was calling out to me to take it. So we could break free from this prison.

"So that's what you use to talk to me?" Toy Agumon asked as he looked at the Digivice.

"Yeah, you'd be shown on the screen. Perhaps what you saw on that TV of yours was what this screen saw…"

"Mhmm, it's pretty small."

"Well, the digital world is pretty big after all."

"So, should we take it with us?"

"This dream, who knows if I can even take anything out of here?"

"Might as well, right? It's my home after all!"

"Yeah, let's do that."

As I picked up the Digivice from the table, I could hear the lock on the door click open. It unlocked itself somehow.

"Alright, let's go kick some ass."

"Right behind you!"

I opened the door, and the world flashed white.

The world shattered, the world around us like glass falling apart, revealing the frozen entrance way. But I didn't have much time to gaze at the architecture around me as Etemon crashed down beside me. I could see bruises and scratches all over his body. He didn't look alright at all.

"Damn oversized plushies, I swear…"

Etemon grumbled before realizing both me and Toy Agumon were awake.

"Thank the stars both of y'all have come to your senses. I may be a rockstar, but this ain't my type of gig! These oversized plushies have been doing a real beating on me while both of you were in dreamland."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fighting just being able to stand here, kid, this ain't my type of rodeo. But I finally figured out why ain't nothing here feels right. Hell, felt that the moment we set foot in this castle. None of this is real, it's all an illusion!"

"Those teddy bears ain't going down with any old strength, no matter how much you dish out, they'll hit back harder, and there won't be a scratch on them. This ain't about whether you're strong or not, it's about belief. And quite frankly, I'm running out of it!"

"An illusion?" I looked around to see that the walls were broken from the fight between Etemon and the WareMozaemons. The cracks in the wall revealed the same skeletons I saw in my dreams. The same rules applied here.

I looked in my hand, the Digivice. It's still with me from Toy Agumon's dream. The years of effort, the bond both he and I forged over hours and hours of grinding.

I looked at Toy Agumon, and he looked back at me. We knew what each other thought, what each other felt. Etemon might have run out of belief in winning this fight, but we've only just begun.

I could feel the warmth emanating from the Digivice as it began to glow. I could feel it, a power emanating from that glow, the bond that both me and Toy Agumon shared.

And just like how we broke through our nightmares, we'll break through this one as well.

"Toy Agumon, are you ready?!"

"You bet I am, let's do this!"

I've done this thousands of times before, through that tiny screen. A world no one else could understand but me. A bond that others could not see. I channel every emotion I've carried with me, the words that I never spoke out loud, the memories I cherished. This is our power!

"WARP DIGIVOLVE, ENGAGE!"

And as I called out the command, a beam of blue light shot out from my Digivice, covering Toy Agumon. I could feel my energy leaving me, as my eyes threatened to close, my legs refusing to stay upright. Still, I persisted, because what was in front of me was truly astonishing.

"TOY AGUMON, WARP DIGIVOLVE TO!!"

The light grew stronger, larger, almost drowning the room in its glow. The power emerging from Toy Agumon surged to new heights, even causing Etemon beside me to step back in shock. Its power causes the very wind itself to blow, as though it commanded it to. And finally, like an orchestra's crescendo, a figure emerged.

"BOLTMON!"

"This is our power, this is our might! Jordan, stand behind me! I will tear us a path to Aoi!"

Chapter Text

Five monsters stood before us, their eyes glowing red as black mist dripped from their stitched-up mouths, blood-red liquid oozing from every stitch, coating their black fur in a dark red. Their massive claw shaped oddly, not so much a sharp implement, but a blunt sledgehammer barely stitched onto their arm.

I could see the mist pour from their mouths as they slowly approached. Each step they took caused echoes of a drum to vibrate through these icy walls.

Boltmon stepped forward, his massive frame blocking us from the enemy. His red hair flickered like flame, the bolts lodged in his green skin crackling with energy. In his hand, a large battle axe capable of cleaving through any foe.

"Tremble, weep, and cry out for whoever you wish." Boltmon's deep voice rumbled, "For I have no mercy to give."

The WareMozaemon charged as one, their claws raised. The ground shook with each thundering step. Behind me, I could hear Etemon catch his breath, finally able to rest.

Boltmon didn't move until they were almost upon him.

Then, he swung.

The first WareMozaemon's claw met Boltmon's in midair. For a split second, they locked before its claw was torn asunder, black mist pouring out from the gash. The WareMozaemon stumbled back, wishing it could scream out as the stitches that held its mouth down struggled under the tension.

Boltmon's follow-through didn't stop. His axe carved through the broken bear, and unlike Etemon's attacks that left no mark, this axe would not stop. The WareMozaemon's form flickered, glitched, and then exploded into black mist that scattered like snow.

"Filth, you are no Digimon", Boltmon said.

The remaining four hesitated, just for a moment. But a moment was all Boltmon needed.

"I have fought devils, elements incarnate, gods. I have seen them all tremble before my thunder." 

He surged forward, faster than something his size should be able to move. His fist connected with the second WareMozaemon's stomach, sending shockwaves through the entrance hall. The ice cracked. Chandeliers swayed. The enemy crumpled, its body folding around the blow before disintegrating.

"I am forged from a friendship you will never understand. A strength you will never fathom."

The third tried to flank him. Boltmon caught its claw with his bare hand. Its movement stopped dead, unable to move forward even an inch.

"Even in this world, the rules remain the same. Yet when you perish, I do not see the spoils."

Boltmon raises his axe and cleaves the WareMozaemon in half, black mist pouring out as though seeking freedom from the prison that held it.

"I only see the filth of the undead. There is no strength here, no power. Only sorcery of the mind, of one broken beyond repair."

I could only watch, stunned. This wasn't just strength. This was absolute dominance. Every movement was precise, controlled, devastating. The castle's guardians—the enemies that had been beating Etemon bloody for who knows how long—were nothing to him.

The last two attacked together, trying to overwhelm him with numbers. Boltmon stood tall, unfazed at their approach. He just lifted his left hand out and called upon his power.

"Your tricks mean nothing in the face of power. I have earned this right, so feel my might!"

“[Thunder Fall]”

With a crack of thunder and a bright flash so bright I could even see it through my shut eyes, silence fell over the entrance hall.

Boltmon stood in the center of the destruction, his axe resting on his shoulder, not even breathing hard. Around him, the scattered black mist drifted like ash.

He turned to look at me, and despite his size, despite the mask covering his face, I could feel him smiling.

"There is a dark force behind this, Jordan. I can feel it now."

Behind me, Etemon let out a low whistle. "Well, I'll be damned… Didn't think I'd get to see a rookie turn into a Mega!"

But the castle wasn't done. From the corridors branching off the entrance hall, I could hear them coming. Footsteps. Dozens of them. Hundreds maybe. The castle was mobilizing everything it had.

"I gave you an oasis, a home to call your own. A life that you wish for, and sleep every night. I lent you a hand when you were cast into a storm. So tell me, why do you turn your blade towards me?"

Palmon…Or, whatever she has become, she spoke to us once again. Her voice echoed in my mind, and perhaps the same to both Boltmon and Etemon. Calling to us again, even after we escaped her dreams, but why?

"Do not think your dreams and lies will bewitch me, witch. I will play your games no longer. Send whatever horrors you may conjure, I will rid them all away with my power."

"The monster made flesh, the abandoned made friend. What would happen if I were to cut your strings? When your only hope ceases to be?"

"You threaten me behind walls of ice, hide in the darkness as you speak in riddles. I am his protector, his bastion, his friend. If I have to cleave my way through this castle, so I can tear the throat that dares to enable your tongue, then so be it."

"So much anger, so much rage, so much fear. Then my monster friend, you know of my pain. You know of my worries and of my fears. You share them just the same."

"You may lie to yourself and think so, but know this. I would face death itself in the eye, rather than drag down the world with me."

"In that we differ, for you see it's not death that has wronged us. It's the world."

From the open windows high above us that brought in the sun, soon blackened as hordes of devils crawled in from the gaps. Packs of IceDevimon, their tattered wings spread wide, frost trailing open jaws.

The doors leading to parts unknown were swung open, and hundreds of Hyogamon poured out. It looked endless, the massive hall we stood in now turning smaller by the second, as the light dimmed.

"We're fucked…!" Etemon said, his mouth ajar at the sight of the horde before him.

We had faced a hundred Frigimon before, but this… this looked like a thousand Digimon, and behind them was our goal. There is no escaping this fight, no way through.

"You hide behind tricks, you hide behind walls, and you hide behind bodies." Boltmon said as he gripped his axe hard, his muscles bulging from the power.

“[Muscle Charge]! [Burning Heart]! [Fighting Aura]! [Upgrade]!"  

"You wish to test my MIGHT?! You wish to test my WILL?! Then so be it! See for yourself witch, MY POWER"

“[Anti-Attack Field], ENGAGE!”

A barrier exploded outward from his body—visible as distorted air, like heat shimmer. It expanded in a perfect sphere, and when an IceDevimon touched the border, it vanished into black mist.

"More conjurations, more undead to throw at us. Futile attempts at warfare, too weak to even cause harm. Since you pretend to have power, allow me to show you what it looks like!"

Boltmon slowly raised his axe, breathing in slowly as he raised it higher. Not even fazed at the hordes of Digimon approaching him. As though he had absolute confidence in himself.

"H-hey, kid, let's get outta the way before we get targeted by one of those things! I ain't got the strength to do much!"

"No, I believe in Boltmon."

"Kid…"

"Trust us, Etemon."

"I…Alright, kid. I'll leave the spotlight to the big man over there."

The horde came closer and closer, each step making my heart beat even faster. I could see the red in their eyes, the thirst of battle pouring from every pore of their bodies. They became quicker and quicker as they got closer. Their shouts were the only thing I could hear, drowning out the entire world. Yet, before they could even land a touch on Boltmon, a single sentence cut through the crowd.

"End of the line, [Tomahawk Stinger]!"

And with a casual swing of his axe, the world went silent in solemn understanding of the power that was unleashed. And like a choir, the hymns of those who've heard the start of the symphony began. With each cry, scream, and death, the song of death breathed into life through the hall we stood in. The dark mist, like a tidal wave, crashed into us as I tried to shield myself from it.

I could taste it, smell it. The foul disgust of whatever this mist was made of was enough to make me want to throw myself off whatever cliff would make it go away. Tears poured down my face as I tried to keep my breath in, hoping the mist would pass. But it never did, seconds felt like hours to me, as though days were flying by.

I could feel the tiny particles that made up the mist fly past my skin, every touch causing me even more disgust. As though whatever it was made of wasn't supposed to exist, a rejection of life itself.

There is nothing I wouldn't give to stop what I was feeling, the rejection my entire body felt as I tried to keep hold of my sanity. Was it hundreds? Thousands? Just how many Digimon produced this much mist? I don't know, but I curse whatever created it.

And even when the mist passed, I couldn't even notice it as I lay fetal on the ground, covering my head between my arms as I tried my hardest to hold my breath in. And when I finally couldn't anymore, I coughed out hard. Whatever mist that my body had breathed in was let out into the cold, empty hall.

"Jordan!"

"Kid!"

"I-I… Never want to feel that shit again. Fuck…”

“I didn't think it would affect you like this…" Boltmon said in a soft voice. Gone was the pride and fury he had when facing those monsters.

"Ahhh, corruption really screws with weaker Digimon. Without enough power, you ain't got the strength to combat it. It must be rough if you're human, I guess."

"C-corruption…? This is what it is?"

"Huh? You guys didn't know what corruption was?"

"We hadn't had the chance to see it before."

"Damn, what are you guys, the luckiest pair in the world? In any case, that's what everyone has been trying to avoid for the past few years. Get too much in your system and it starts messing with your head."

"It messes with your head?!"

"Speak more, Etemon", Boltmon said with a fierce tone, his face turning into a deep frown.

"Whoa, whoa, now hold on. This is a fact, so don't go shooting the messenger, yeah? Sheesh, you've gotten really scary now that you're a mega. Ahem, be that as it may, I haven't heard of a human getting infected by corruption. Doesn't help that there's only enough of you folk to count on one hand, but those folk have been fighting it for years now, and I haven't heard a lick about anything bad going on."

"Still, it felt horrendous."

"That's why most Digimon tend to try and get stronger somehow. So they don't have to deal with corruption. But when that fails, we just hide behind stronger ones that can stop it before it reaches us."

Etemon sighed as he scratched his head.

"Still, that's the largest amount of corrupted Digimon I've seen in my entire life. It was like a scene straight out of a warzone, and I ain't a fan of getting too close to one of them."

"This… is what they faced for those 5 years…"

"Weep, as you breathe in the end of this world. Tremble, as you think of those who have succumbed to its horrors. Dread, the day that you will fall to its darkness."

I could hear her voice again. Boltmon immediately lifted his axe as he scanned the empty hall, anticipating another fight.

"So many lost, so many deaths. You seek a friend you hadn't seen in years. I seek to save the only friend I have ever known. You seek to bring them home; I seek to keep them home. You and I, we love her so dearly, don't you think?"

"You mean, Aoi?"

"Stop your tricks, witch! Say your piece, no more games!"

"... The door is unlocked, the way is clear. But before you enter, I beg of you. Understand our plight."

In the distance, I could hear something like a lock breaking, the sound of metal clanging onto the ground. The door is open, somewhere in front of us.

"Urgh…" Etemon suddenly grunted as he held his chest tightly and fell onto his knees. Sweat poured down his face as he breathed hard.

"Etemon!"

“I…I…Oh man…I ain’t feeling groovy at all…

"Is it corruption?"

“Nah…nah…Nothing like that… I don’t know…”

He stood back up, shaking as he tried his best to stand. I took his arm and held him up; his body feels cold.

"We're almost there…I ain't falling here, alright? Man, I thought I'd at least be able to show Cendrillmon my cool side, but I'll take what I can get."

"Alright, let's go then."

"I'll lead the way, but be careful, who knows what that witch might pull."

As Boltmon led us forward, I thought about what Aoi's partner tried to say. Their plight…just what have they faced in the past six years? 

We walked through corridors that felt different from before. The ice walls were melting in places, revealing wood underneath—old, worn, familiar. I saw picture frames frozen mid-fall, their glass cracked. Figures, faded silhouettes of what I could only guess were rookie Digimon, ran past us; some stood still, acting out some type of action.

It was as though the castle was changing, showing us something that we were supposed to understand.

"This place…" I said quietly. "It's changing."

"Yeah," Etemon wheezed, leaning heavily on my shoulder. "This is some high…lev-..level magic going on. Illusions just like before, but different."

"The witch lacks the strength to replicate the dreams she showed us before. She weakens from exhaustion. She attempts to trick us with these plays."

"I don't know, Boltmon… She's Aoi's partner."

"One that utilizes corruption to shield herself and her bond… Still, we must press forward."

Boltmon moved ahead, his massive frame somehow careful now. Not smashing through obstacles but stepping around them. Respecting the space. He understood what I was seeing.

"I get it now, these are memories. I…I think I see her…"

A silhouette of a girl, taller than I remembered. Giving out something to Digimon, the next thing she was sitting next to sleeping ones… Is this her partner's way of telling us what has happened?

"Jordan," Boltmon said, not looking back. "I can feel something ahead. A presence. Weak, but... desperate."

"Is it them?"

"Perhaps. Stay vigilant."

We turned a corner, and the corridor opened into a long hallway. At the end, I could see it—a massive door, ornate and beautiful. Not ice. Not wood. Something crystalline, like frozen tears given form. Light emanated from the cracks around its edges, warm and soft.

And scattered along the hallway leading to it were Digimon.

Not attacking. Not moving. Dead.

Various kinds of Digimon littered the floor, dead yet not broken into scattered data. Instead, they all lay face down on the floor, their arms stretched out, all facing the exact same way. Towards the door, as though they were dragging themselves towards it, in hopes of reaching it. We could only see their futile attempts.

They didn't block our path. They just... lay there. A reminder of who once called this castle home. Did…did Aoi's partner do this?

"Cendrilmons not around here…" Etemon said with struggling breaths. "Maybe… they were trying to reach her, through that door…"

The path was clear, except for the dead residents of this once-beautiful castle. Perhaps… this was not the girl I knew five years ago.

We reached the door. This close, I could see details I'd missed before. The crystalline surface wasn't smooth—it was textured, covered in thousands of tiny engravings. Words. Phrases. All in Japanese, all in a child's handwriting.

I want to go home. Please let me go home. Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave. Please don't forget me. I'm scared. I'm so scared. Please.

Over and over. Thousands of times. Carved into the door like prayers that were never answered.

"Jesus Christ," I breathed. My hand reached out, fingers tracing the words. The crystal was warm to the touch. "Aoi..."

"Kid." Etemon's voice was strained. He was looking worse—his skin had gone pale, his breathing shallow. "We need to... need to move. Can't... can't stay out here much longer."

"Are you sure you can—"

"I'm fine!" He snapped, then immediately softened. "Sorry. Just... let's get this over with, yeah? Cendrillmon's in there. I can feel it. And if she's in trouble..."

He didn't finish. He didn't need to.

Boltmon placed his hand on the door. His axe had vanished—dismissed or dissolved, I wasn't sure. He looked back at me, his masked face somehow conveying concern despite having no expression.

"Jordan. Beyond this door... whatever we find, whatever state she's in..." He paused. "She may not want to be saved. She may fight us. Are you prepared for that?"

I thought about the words on the door. The desperation. The fear. Six years of it.

"She's been trapped here for who knows how long," I said quietly. "Trapped in a dream because she was too scared to face reality. Because reality hurt her. Because no one came for her." I looked up at Boltmon. "We're here now. Even if she fights us. Even if she doesn't understand. We're here."

Boltmon nodded slowly. "Then let us see this through. Together."

"Together, and Etemon?"

Etemon managed a weak grin. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, kid. Besides..." He coughed. "There's a girl I've been longing to meet."

I reached for the door handle. It was cold to the touch, despite the warmth radiating from the crystal. My hand wrapped around it, and for a moment, I hesitated.

Behind this door was Aoi. The girl I barely knew. The girl whose family I'd spent six years trying to help. The girl who'd been trapped here, alone, scared, for so long.

Behind this door was the truth. Whatever that meant.

I took a breath.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Ready," Boltmon confirmed.

"Let's rock," Etemon wheezed.

I turned the handle.

The door opened.

Chapter Text

The door opened without resistance.

After all we faced in this castle, the illusions, the corpses, the frozen horrors that clawed at us, this door just simply... opened. No lock. No trap. No monster hiding in waiting. Just a gentle push, and the ice parted like a curtain.

What lay beyond made the rest of the castle feel cluttered.

The chamber was vast and empty. White walls stretched upward into shadow, featureless and cold. No decorations, no furniture, no windows. Just an endless expanse of pale nothing, a void dressed in ice.

And in the center of that, a bed.

It dominated the space not through size, but through presence. A massive four-poster frame, entirely draped in white cloth that pooled onto the floor like spilled milk. The fabric glowed faintly in the dim light, the only source of warmth in this room.

My eyes found her immediately.

Everything else faded: Boltmon's heavy breathing beside me, Etemon's struggling breaths, the cold biting at my skin. None of it mattered. Because there, on that bed, lay a girl I hadn't seen in six years.

Aoi.

She looked... older. Of course she did. Six years had passed. But it was more than that. Her features had sharpened, her hair had grown longer, and her face had lost the roundness of childhood. She was almost unrecognizable.

Almost.

But I knew. Even after being worlds apart, for years of wondering and hoping that I’d finally find them, I knew it was her. This was Aoi. This was really her.

She was sleeping. Peaceful. Undisturbed. As though nothing in the world could ever wake her. As though nothing in the world was worth waking for.

I wanted to call her name. Wanted to run to her, shake her awake, tell her I'd finally found her. That I'd never stopped looking. That everything was going to be okay now.

But something stopped me.

A voice.

—

Soft at first. A melody threading through the silence like smoke. Mournful. Aching. The kind of song that made your chest tight before you even understood the words.

My attention shifted.

At the head of the bed sat a woman. Her back was partially turned, her hand moving in slow, rhythmic strokes as she brushed Aoi's hair. Purple robes cascaded around her, elegant and flowing. She hadn't acknowledged our entrance. Hadn't even glanced our way.

She just sang.

On that fateful day, when our lives finally intertwined,

When I saw her face, I knew that our life could finally start anew.

Such joy and wonder, oh, how wonderful our lives would be,

But then I saw the tears, and reality soon arrived.

We battled the darkness, we held back the night,

She kept brushing. Stroke after stroke. Gentle. Loving.

She was so brave, always so kind,

But even heroes grow tired at the end of the night.

Through all the tears, and the pain and suffering that she faced,

Even through all of that, love finds a way.

His smile, his laughter, and his will to fight for all,

His dreams and hopes, and the passion in his eyes.

Everything felt better, everything would be alright,

As long as she stayed by his side.

Her voice cracked on the next verse. Just slightly. A tremor in the melody.

But hearts can break—how could a rope stay strong,

When only one side dares to hold it high?

How can love stay strong when built on shifting sands?

When he turned away, when he made his choice,

And when he chose his path, we were cast aside.

I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. The song held me frozen, each word cutting deeper than the cold ever could.

When the dawn came, the world still stayed dark,

When the birds sang, we only heard the chorus of horrors that awaited outside.

The doors would open and close, yet no salvation was there for us,

So many years of saving, yet no one could do the same for her.

The brushing stopped.

 

She turned around to find her friends,

To ease her broken heart,

But they had wandered different roads,

While she'd been torn apart.

She'd helped them all, she'd been their rock,

She'd been their anchor, but fractures ran beneath,

When she needed them most, they vanished like a fleeting breath.

She looked me dead in the eye.

 

Alone, alone, so lost, so scared,

In a world that didn't care,

Alone, forsaken, in a world so cold,

She sought comfort in the dark, but found no shore to hold.

Then she looked away to the door behind me.

Then came a friend we'd met before,

A gentleman of grace,

He promised safety, promised peace,

He led us to this place.

The lady of the house was kind,

Gave us room to stay,

She locked herself inside,

And cried herself away.

And back at Aoi.

She prayed for love to save her soul,

She prayed for a home to call,

She prayed for someone, anyone,

To catch her as she'd fall.

And so I changed, I grew, I morphed,

From the fear, the hate, and the pain,

From lust for home and lust for love,

And lust to end the strain.

Watching her unravel was more than I could bear,

So I held her in a dream's embrace,

Beyond the world's care.

But dreams can't last forever, no,

I'm growing tired and weak,

This world's a wound that never heals,

Its future's cold and bleak.

But there is another way—

To end the pain, to stop the hurt,

And keep the world at bay,

Tears fell down her porcelain face.

No more suffering, no more tears,

Just the silence of the comfort of nothing.

And thus, this castle wrapped in dreams,

A refuge from the storm,

A world unknowing, hidden,

Where nothing can truly harm.

If I could halt time's cruel march,

Or freeze this precious moment here,

No more fear, no more hurt,

No need for tears.

But you have come, you've broken through,

You've shattered all I've made,

And now I don't know what to do,

I'm lost, I'm so afraid."

She turned back to me.

I saw her fully then. The elegant horns curving from her skull. The clawed fingers, delicate and deadly. The face that was beautiful in the way a knife is beautiful, sharp, cold, designed to cut. Purple eyes that held depths I couldn't fathom. A presence that pressed against me like a physical weight, suffocating and immense.

My mind supplied the name before I could stop it.

Lilithmon.

[Demon Lord of Lust]

In the game, she’d been a hidden boss. A nightmare, hidden away through a series of quests that are all tied together. Something you prepared for across dozens of hours of grinding, something you’d spend hours planning for. I’d spend months just combing through every attack pattern, every possible combination, just to find a way to beat her.

She was sitting there, just right there. A distance short enough to end my life in a flash.

It hit me like a wave.

The presence of her. Not just intimidation, something deeper, more primal. A force that pressed against my very existence, demanding submission. Death hung above my head like a guillotine blade, gleaming and patient, waiting for the slightest excuse to fall.

My knees buckled. My body screamed at me to kneel, to collapse, to accept that I was nothing before this creature. As though my body had surrendered and told me to do the same, as though it was the only option, the only way out. To beg. To die quietly and be grateful for the mercy.

I was shaking. I couldn't stop. My vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in. I tried to stand upright, tried to remember why I'd come here, but the pressure—

Then a hand landed on my shoulder.

Heavy. Warm. Steady.

Boltmon.

The pressure didn't disappear. But it became... bearable. Like a lifeline thrown into drowning waters. His presence anchored me, reminded me that I wasn't alone, that I hadn't come this far just to collapse at the final door.

I steadied myself. Breathed. My legs still trembled, but I stayed upright.

And I looked at Lilithmon.

It was as though she had been crying for hours.

Tears streamed down her face, freezing into tiny crystals before they could fall. But she was smiling, not cruel, not seductive, not anything I'd expected from a Demon Lord. Just... sad. Deeply, achingly sad. The kind of sadness that had settled into bone, so familiar it felt like home.

"You came."

Her voice was soft. Fragile. If I hadn’t known of this digimon, of her form, from the game, I’d think she was just a sad woman in silk clothes.

"She had a dream once." Lilithmon's eyes drifted to Aoi's sleeping form, and something in her expression broke. “That maybe... you'd be the one who'd find her."

The words hung in the air. I didn't know how to respond.

Boltmon stepped forward.

He positioned himself between me and Lilithmon, his massive frame blocking my view. His stance was combat-ready. Guarded. I could feel the tension radiating off him—coiled and dangerous, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.

"Don't let your guard down," he said quietly. "The witch is not as weak as she looks."

He was right. I could feel it too, now that the initial shock had faded. The domain of lust pressing against us—a seductive pull to lower our defenses, to believe she was harmless, to forget what she was. But beneath that, something else. Power. Real power. Weakened, yes. Exhausted. But still a Demon Lord. Still capable of killing us both without breaking a sweat.

Lilithmon watched us. Made no move to attack.

"You're right to be cautious," she said. Her clawed hand returned to Aoi's hair, stroking gently. "I could still kill you. Both of you."

A pause. Her smile wavered.

"But I won't."

"You expect us to believe that, witch?"

Boltmon's voice was low. Dangerous. His eyes swept the room—the space, the exits, the shadows. Looking for the trap. There was always a trap.

"After the hallway," he continued. "After the bodies. After everything in this castle tried to kill us or break us."

Lilithmon didn't flinch. "I don't expect you to believe anything."

"The corruption. The illusions. The Digimon living in dreams while their bodies rotted." Boltmon's fists clenched, metal grinding against metal. "That was you."

"Yes."

No denial. No excuse. Just acknowledgment.

"Then why should we listen to a single word you say?"

Lilithmon was quiet for a moment. Her hand rested gently on Aoi's hair. Protective.

"You shouldn't," she said finally. "I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm not asking for forgiveness. I just..."

Her voice broke. Just slightly.

"I wanted her to be happy. That's all I ever wanted."

"Let me talk to her."

The words left my mouth before I could think. Boltmon's arm shot out, blocking me.

"Jordan—"

"I need to talk to her. To Aoi." My eyes were fixed on the sleeping girl. Six years. Six years of searching, of wondering, of refusing to give up. And now I was right here. "Just... let me try."

Lilithmon shook her head slowly. "She won't wake. She doesn't want to."

"What do you mean she doesn't want to?"

"Dreams are kinder than reality." Lilithmon's gaze drifted to some distant point, seeing something none of us could. "In dreams, she still has love. In dreams, she still has friends. Still has hopes of a better tomorrow. To be able to open the door to her loving parents once more."

Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.

"Why would she choose to wake up to this?"

"Then let me into the dream."

Lilithmon's eyes snapped to mine.

"It’s as though you’re ignoring all I have said."

"I'm asking to talk to my friend." I stepped forward, past Boltmon's outstretched arm. "I've been searching for her for six years. I crossed worlds to find her. I fought through your castle, your illusions, your nightmares. And now you're telling me she's right there, and I can't even try?"

"Such selfishness. Do you not think of her feelings?! The dream is hers! Her sanctuary. If you enter uninvited—"

"Is that what she truly feels, or are you just believing so?! How long has it been since she woke up?! HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE YOU’VE SPOKEN TO HER?!"

Silence.

Lilithmon studied me. Those purple eyes, ancient and tired, were searching for something in my face. I didn't know what she was looking for. I didn't know if she found it.

But after a long moment, she sighed.

"Very well." She gestured toward the bed. "Sit beside her. Take her hand. Let your mind accept the world you dare venture into."

"Jordan." Boltmon's voice was tight. Warning. "This could be a trap."

"I know."

"She's a Demon Lord. She could be manipulating you right now."

"I know."

"Then…"

"Because it's Aoi." I looked back at him. "Because I didn't come this far to stop now."

Boltmon held my gaze for a long moment. Then, slowly, he stepped aside.

I walked to the bed.

She looked so peaceful up close. But I could see the scars of battles long past on her arms and legs. Her face, marked by war. Her chest rose and fell in a rhythm so gentle it was almost imperceptible. Her lips were slightly parted, as if she'd fallen asleep mid-sentence.

I sat on the edge of the bed. The white cloth was soft beneath me, warm despite the cold that permeated everything else in this castle.

I reached out.

Took her hand.

And the world dissolved.

I was standing in a hallway.

The nostalgic smell of this hallway felt calming, along with the sounds of football being played below and footsteps from elsewhere in the building, just like how I’d remembered it. And in front of me was that room again.

Classroom 3-10. The sign on the door was exactly as I remembered it.

My hand trembled as I reached for the door handle. This wasn't real. I knew it wasn't real. But the smell of chalk dust and floor wax, the distant echo of voices from other classrooms, the way the afternoon light slanted through the windows at the end of the hall, it was perfect. Every detail exactly as it had been.

Yet beneath all of this, behind all the glamour, there was something that made memories so real. I could smell it; it was unmistakable now that I’ve felt it firsthand. The same smell of rotten disgust and putrid horror made up the black mist. The corruption infested every surface of this world. But I had to ignore it, to move past it, because Aoi was waiting behind this door.

And so I opened it.

They were all there.

Kenji sat in the back corner, feet propped up on his desk, laughing at something Daichi had said. Daichi himself was perched on the edge of a desk, gesturing animatedly, his glasses catching the light. Mei had her nose buried in a book, but I could see the slight smile on her face—she was listening, even if she pretended not to be.

And there, sitting near the window. A Younger me, awkwardly fumbling with my Digivice, asking questions to Riku while he was sprawled across two chairs he'd pushed together, eyes half-closed in his perpetual state of not-quite-sleeping.

We were so young. So happy. So completely unaware of what was coming.

And at the window, looking out at a sky that wasn't quite the right shade of blue—

Was Aoi.

She was older. The same as she was on the bed. She sat apart from the others, chin resting on her hand, watching something in the distance that none of them could see.

The only one who didn't belong.

"You're new."

I jumped. The younger versions of my friends hadn't reacted to my presence at all—they kept talking, laughing, existing in their frozen moment of happiness. But Aoi had turned from the window. She was looking directly at me.

"I..." My voice caught. "Aoi."

"That's my name." She tilted her head, studying me the way Lilithmon had. "You look familiar. Have we met?"

"It's me. Jordan."

Her eyes drifted to the younger me, still talking to Riku. Then back to the older version standing in the doorway.

"Huh." Something shifted in her expression. No surprise—more confusion, as though something that never happened before, happened. "That’s new. You’ve gotten older."

"So did you."

"Did I?" She looked down at her hands. "I suppose I did…"

I stepped into the classroom. The other figures—the ghosts of who we used to be—didn't acknowledge me. I walked right past younger Daichi, close enough to touch, and he didn't even blink.

I sat down at the empty chair next to Aoi.

"I've been looking for you," I said. "For six years. Ever since you all disappeared."

“Did you now…”

"Aoi, I'm here to bring you home."

She laughed. It wasn't a happy sound.

“Home… I don’t even remember what it looks like anymore. So what, are we going to magically appear in my bedroom? It’s going to look nothing like how I remember it, that’s for sure.”

"A-Aoi?”

“I guess I’ve run out of people to imagine about, so is this what I think Jordan would look like? Come on, he definitely won’t look like that; he’s too clumsy to look like that. Maybe big round glasses? No too nerdy…”

“Aoi!”

I grabbed hold of her as she suddenly turned to look at my hand in shock.

“H-huh? W-what? You can’t, you shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“Aoi, it’s me!”

“Y-you?....Jordan?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s you…Jordan, then…it’s you… you finally came…”

“Let’s get you out of here, Aoi. You can’t stay here."

"What? Why?"

"You're lying in a bed in an ice castle, surrounded by dead bodies, protected by a Demon Lord who's using you for... I don't even know what."

"I know."

"Then why—"

"Because here, they're still my friends." She gestured at the laughing figures around us. "See, there’s Daichi, not bossing us around. Mei, who still cares about us. Riku still..." Her voice faltered. "Riku's still here at all. And Kenji…still smiling."

She turned to face me fully. Her eyes were dry, but there was something broken behind them. Something was shattered a long time ago and never put back together.

“And you’re here… Not somewhere else, far away from here."

"I've watched this scene a thousand times, Jordan. The same jokes. The same laughter. The same afternoon, over and over and over." She smiled, and it was the saddest thing I'd ever seen. "But even this is better than waking up."

“How is this any better?! Aoi, your parents are still wishing and hoping you will come back! Let’s just leave, and we can help bring back the others.”

“No.”

“Aoi?”

“Do you know what they’ve done? Jordan?” She asked me, her gaze haunting as she pointed to them. “Do you know what they did? What he did?”

“We were torn apart, not by some stupid corruption, but because of the choices we made.”

“There is no going back from what we did, not going back from what we have suffered. I…I can’t let my parents see me like this.”

“Aoi…”

“Why don’t we just stay here. I…would enjoy the company…”

The classroom flickered.

For a moment, the walls were somewhere else—a cafe, warm and bright, with the smell of coffee and pastries. Two figures sat at a corner table, heads bowed together, voices too low to hear.

Aoi's parents.

I hadn't summoned this. I hadn't even known I could change things here. But the dream had responded to something—my desperation, maybe, or my memories of the missing persons reports, the news coverage, the parents who never stopped hoping.

Aoi went rigid.

"Don't."

"They never gave up on you."

"I said don't."

But the image held. Aoi's mother wiping her own eyes with a napkin. Her father stared at a photograph, his coffee untouched, going cold. The weight of years of grief pressed into every line of their faces.

"They fought," I said. "About whether to keep searching. About whether to accept that you might be gone. About how to keep living when a piece of their world had been ripped away."

"Stop it."

"They never stopped loving you, Aoi. They never stopped hoping."

"STOP!"

The cafe shattered. We were back in the classroom, but it was wrong now—the colors too bright, the edges too sharp, the frozen figures of our friends flickering, glitching between reality and nonexistance.

Aoi was trembling. Her hands gripped the edge of her desk hard enough to crack the wood.

"You think I don't know?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "You think I haven't seen them? In my dreams? Every night, Jordan. Every single night, I see what I did to them. What I did to everyone."

"What did you do? Aoi, you didn't—"

"I LEFT!" The word tore out of her like a wound reopening. "I left them behind! I agreed to come here, and every day they wake up wondering if today is the day they'll find my body!"

She was crying now. The tears froze on her cheeks just like Lilithmon's had.

"I can't go back. I can't face them. I can't look my mother in the eye and tell her I chose this world over her. That I stayed because... because..."

The classroom dissolved.

We stood on a battlefield.

I recognized it—the hills outside Haven's Rest, the ones I'd traveled through just days ago. But this was different. This was years ago. The grass was scorched. The air smelled like smoke and something worse, something organic and wrong.

Bodies everywhere. Digimon bodies, twisted and broken, some still twitching. And in the middle of it all, a younger Aoi—sixteen, maybe seventeen—on her knees, screaming.

Lilamon hovered beside her, wings flickering with exhaustion. Around them, dying Digimon reached out with desperate hands, begging for help, for salvation, for anything.

And one by one, they dissolved into data.

And Lilamon absorbed it.

I could see her trying to stop it, trying to push the data away, but it flowed into her anyway, drawn by some force neither of them could control. Each absorption made her glow brighter, made Aoi scream louder.

"I felt them," Aoi said beside me. The older Aoi, watching her younger self break. "Every single one. Their fear. Their pain. Their last thoughts as they faded. It all poured into Lilamon, and I couldn't stop it, and I couldn't save them, and I…"

She closed her eyes.

"We were supposed to be heroes. We were supposed to save people. But all we did was watch them die."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?" Aoi opened her eyes. They were empty now. Hollow. "We were so caught up in the fighting, so caught up in playing heroes that no one realized the damage left behind. T-they… were slaughtered, Jordan."

"By the time I’d realized what was happening to us, it was too late. The people I used to call friends were unrecognizable. They would use so many words, just to wrap up what they’ve done into a nice bow."

"And then we broke. We couldn't even look at each other after that. Kenji blamed our hesitation. Daichi blamed our lack of faith. Mei blamed our emotions. And I..." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I blamed myself. For all of it. For not being strong enough to hold us together. For not being enough."

The battlefield faded. We were back in the classroom, but it was darker now. The frozen figures of our friends were gone. Just two desks in an empty room, and the afternoon light dying outside the window.

"Maybe this is fate," Aoi said softly. "Maybe everything we've done has led to this. That we were too stupid, too broken, too human to think we could save the world."

"Aoi—"

"I'm sorry, Jordan." She looked at me, and for a moment I saw the girl I'd known—the one who laughed too loud and cared too much and always, always tried to help. "Thank you. For trying all these years. For not giving up on us."

"Then come with me. Please."

"I'm tired." Her voice was barely audible. "And there isn't a way out of this place. Not after what we've all done. I can't forgive myself."

She looked towards the sky next to the window. Pressed her hand against the glass.

"I don't want to wake up."

I felt it before I understood what was happening.

Like a hand on my back. A force wrapping around me, pulling me away from her. The classroom stretched, distorted, Aoi growing smaller and more distant with each passing second.

"NO!" I lunged forward, reaching for her. "AOI! DON'T DO THIS!"

She turned. Tears were streaming down her face. That sad, broken smile was still on her lips.

"I'll always miss you, Jordan." Her voice echoed strangely, as if coming from very far away. "Maybe one day, we can see each other again."

"AOI!"

The classroom shattered.

I was falling, tumbling through darkness, her face burning in my vision like an afterimage—

I slammed back into my body with a gasp.

My lungs burned. I coughed, and something dark came up—corrupted mist, black and viscous, splattering onto the floor. I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. The world spun around me, too bright, too loud, too real after the muted haze of the dream.

Aoi still lay on the bed, unchanged. Still sleeping. Still peaceful.

Still asleep.

"What have you done to him?!"

Boltmon's voice. Angry. Scared. I turned my head and saw him standing over Lilithmon, who had collapsed to the floor. Her form was flickering, unstable, power visibly draining from her body.

"Just bringing him back to reality, my green friend."

A distorted voice. Not Lilithmon's. Not Boltmon's. Coming from—

We all turned.

Etemon lay crumpled on the ground near the doorway. His body was... wrong. Pulsing. Something moving beneath the surface, straining against his skin.

"What a touching story," the voice continued. It came from everywhere and nowhere, cheerful and sharp. "Of a boy trying to save his friends."

The zipper on Etemon's back began to move.

“Yet rejected, not knowing that all he had done was for nought. A boy playing hero, trying to save the princess in the castle.”

Slowly. Tooth by tooth. The sound of it—metal parting, something wet shifting beneath—filled the silent chamber.

"But this world doesn't need a hero."

The zipper reached the bottom.

"We've had enough of those."