Homeless.
The word conjured images of rundown shacks built from junk tossed aside by people who no longer needed it; of frail, sick people with ratty clothes and unkempt hair who smelled so bad no one could stand to be near them; of thieves picking pockets and breaking into people's homes.
Now she understood how those people felt.
She had trouble believing that it had come to this, sitting under a playground slide shivering while the wind blew the rain this way and that. Her clothes stuck to her skin because they were soaked and there was a chill in her bones that made it impossible to even consider being warm. To think that it had happened the way it had was even worse. Being kicked out of your home by your own mother after a trivial argument was ridiculous.
Thinking about it made her angry. She had been struggling enough as it was; between trying to find a job and helping her mother with paying their ever increasing bills, she had little time for herself. What right did her mother have to take away everything from her after she had done so much to help? She had been willing to sacrifice her own enjoyment to help a woman who had never cared much for her in the first place.
Wrapping her arms around herself, the young woman shook her head, her eyes stinging as tears formed on the edges of them. After everything, the world had turned its back on her. She had lost her best friend, then her father, and finally her home. Why? When the tears finally slipped down her cheeks, she let them, uncaring. No one would see her.
A couple of minutes passed before she wiped the tears away. Crying wouldn't help her out of the situation she was in. There wasn't much she could do at all. With no money, she couldn't buy a house. Getting a job and keeping that job would be near impossible to do.
She reached into the bag beside her and pulled out a framed picture. It was one of the few reminders of a better time in her life. Her hand went up to grab the goggles hanging around her neck. The years of being with her friend when she was younger had been the best years of her life. She slid the picture back into the bag and slung the pack over her shoulder. The rain had lessened enough that she could find somewhere new to get shelter.
She froze and blinked.
It was almost as if there was a…hole in the air near her that was just large enough for a person to fit through. Moving so that she was on her hands and knees, she moved closer to it.
I must be going crazy, she thought while she inspected the hole. The stress has finally pushed me over the edge.
Shifting her weight to her right arm, she reached her left arm outwards to put her hand into it. It was probably a stupid thing to do, but her curiosity got the better of her. She could feel something, so maybe it was there. Then again, she could just be imagining the sensation.
There was a sudden pressure on her hand, as if someone had grabbed her, and she felt a strong tug. A shout of surprise came from between her lips, her entire body lurching forward. She sat up and attempted to free herself of whatever had hold of her. However, the unseen force quickly overpowered her. She found herself being dragged towards the hole and closed her eyes in a silent prayer just as she was pulled into it.
"Tell me, would you like to change the world? If you come with me, you can."
~0~
"We do not have much time."
The knight in golden armor held up his hand, watching as it flickered. "You're right. It won't be long now."
"These are the Digimon chosen to save our world?"
The voice drew the attention of the two others.
"It would seem so. All of them hold a potential very few others have. You have doubts?"
"One is a Virus type." The displeasure was clear in the pink knight's voice.
"That may be so, Crusadermon, but you and I know that not all Virus Digimon are inherently evil."
Crusadermon raised her head. The annoyance she felt was clear in the way she tapped her fingers against the metal table. Soon she stopped to move her hand to her side, where a wound was visible through her ruined armor.
"How do we know that he can be trusted, Gallantmon?"
"Have you forgotten what we are?" Gallantmon asked. "How we were perceived?"
"You would believe that he is like us?"
"He fights to protect his friends, not to hurt others."
She shifted her gaze to the other male. "You would believe he could be different?"
"Yes, I do." The gold and blue knight said. He shifted and glanced between the two before ultimately resting his eyes on the screen in front of them. "I understand how you feel, Crusadermon. After all, I was personally betrayed. But we have to believe in them. What else do we have, if not this hope?"
"Magnamon is right," Gallantmon murmured in agreement.
The pink knight turned away, letting out a ragged sigh. "Let us hope you are right, for he and the others hold the future of the Digital World in their hands."
"I believe they can succeed."
"They have to," Gallantmon said. He paused, flinching when his arm flickered. "Our time is coming to an end."
"It was an honor serving with you both," Crusadermon stated, standing as straight as she could while still holding her wound. "It was a pleasure to serve as a Royal Knights with Digimon such as yourselves. I wish our time together could be longer."
Magnamon offered a smile. "I couldn't have asked for better friends."
Reaching to either side, Gallantmon placed a hand on both Magnamon and Crusadermon's shoulders. "I hope that one day we can meet again."