Digimon Hackers

Hi everyone. :3 I wrote this a little while ago, and decided to upload it while I work on my other fic "It's All in the Cards." Everything in this story will be explained soon, so just bear with me. xD Okay, read on!

Chapter One: Meet the Hackers

A ring of light hovered in the air.

"This is a dream," a voice said. It was light and pleasant, but it was impossible to tell where it was coming from. Perhaps it was from the ring itself? "This was the only way to contact you. You will not remember this until the time comes for you to know it. Then this dream will be clear to you."

The ring began to flicker, like a dying candle.

"There isn't much time. Please come soon. We need you."

The ring's light gave off one last light, then burned out.

"You are our only hope…" the voice said, trailing off.

-x-

Catharine Thomas groaned as her alarm clock woke her up. It was always too early… Why couldn't school start at a normal time, like one in the afternoon? She knew in the back of her mind that getting up at 11:30 would soon be too early, also, if her wishes were real, but she just told her brain to shut up.

Yawning loudly, she sat up and stretched. Light poured in through the ugly iron bars on her bedroom window, next to her apartment's fire escape. There was a curtain, but it didn't do much in the mornings. Her small room was already bathed in light.

Finally, she got up and stumbled to her dresser, blindly grabbing whatever clothes she could reach. Cat shuffled down the hall to the apartment's tiny bathroom. She could barely see as she threw her clothes on the ground and started the shower. But after she had showered, she was as awake as usual.

Cat was usually good-natured, though she did have a bit of a quick temper when it came to injustice, as she was very compassionate. She was very athletic and usually neglected school, though she was naturally gifted at math and English. Though she had few friends, she was loyal and friendly to those she had. Always full of life, she was energetic and persistent, even when she got things wrong. She was a little bossy, and rather outspoken, but she never realized she was doing anything wrong. Sometimes she managed to hurt peoples' feelings by being too inconsiderate or not paying enough attention to their problems. She tried to be the best friend she could, though – to those who would talk to her, at least. There were a few people at school who seemed to hate the fact that she was alive – Tiffany Preston, to name one snotty girl with a huge trust fund (though Cat had serious doubts about her getting into college) and no problems (besides lack of a brain). Cat didn't let Tiffany or any of her snobbish friends get her down, though. She was a naturally bouncy sort of person, who didn't let setbacks discourage her. After dressing, she grinned at herself in the mirror.

She was a tall girl of fourteen. She had stick-straight blonde hair that fell just to her chin, so it wouldn't get in the way. Her brown eyes were big and usually had the same excited sparkle to them that they had now (only, of course, after waking up fully). Unlike most of the girls in her class, she wore absolutely no makeup – ever. As a full-fledged tomboy, she wore clothes that could all be considered unisex. Today, she had grabbed a pair of beat-up, baggy jeans, a t-shirt with a cow on it, and her signature oversized jacket in kelly green. After she ate a huge breakfast of cereal and brushed her teeth, she shoved her feet inside her hightop sneakers.

Her mom had died when she was little, so it was just Cat and her dad. But he was usually nowhere to be seen around the house. He worked for a newspaper, and spent all his time there. Cat didn't really mind; she didn't get very lonely. She tried to spend most of her time out of their apartment, anyway. It was too small.

Finally it was time for her to leave. Cat grabbed her backpack, ran out the door, locked it, and hurried down the hallway towards the elevator. Checking her watch, she saw that she was cutting close on time – as usual – and she would have to hurry – as usual – to catch her bus.

Cat rode the elevator impatiently down to the apartment's lobby, then raced out the door, nearly knocking down a confused-looking old woman. "Sorry!" she called as she rushed by. Her bus stop was just half a block down the hill, but she saw her bus already approaching. Racing against it, she made it to her stop just as the bus pulled up to it.

Cat, though still gasping for air, boarded the bus happily. She waved her pass at the driver and found a seat near the front. From here, it was a long bus ride to her school, which was up a few hills and over more than a few blocks, in a nicer area of town. The only reason she even got to go to the school was because she used her grandma's address – and her grandma lived in a nursing home.

She settled back in her uncomfortable seat, feeling envious of all the students who lived near her school – and not just because they didn't have to go as far to get there from their big houses on top of the hill.

-x-

Far away, in one of these houses (in fact, one of the biggest on the hill), Mark and Marie Ardeaux were just waking up.

He woke up first, rubbing his green eyes before sitting up in his huge bed. The Ardeaux family was one of great wealth, the kind that has homes in multiple countries. Their "summer cottage" in the south of France was a twenty-room giant with its own Olympic-sized pool, sauna, handful of hot tubs, and observation deck. They owned a private miniature ski resort in Switzerland, as well as a ski lodge-themed mansion to go with it with a seemingly ever-present ten-foot tall fire roaring in the hearth day and night. In a similar fashion, they had a house in Sweden made completely out of ice (but they didn't stay in it much, because both Marie and her father were very susceptible to the cold). They even owned a small island in the Caribbean, though it was very unpractical as they had to fly in all their food and supplies on plane. Their other homes were in America, England, Japan, Australia, Italy, and some of the more unpronounceable small countries that scatter Europe.

After stretching and sliding out of the bed, he got up and exited his room, walking down the hall towards Marie's door. When they were younger, that had always been inseparable, and even now they were very close for siblings. Neither of them liked to be awakened by the "help", but Marie, a heavy sleeper, didn't take any notice of alarm clocks. Mark would always set his alarm, then wake up his sister – what he was about to do now. He opened her door and stepped into her room.

Marie's room was about the same size as his, but where his was relatively sterile and common for a bedroom, hers was vivid and unique. Marie was very interested in art, and famous paintings as well as some of her own sketches and what she called "dabblings with paint" (Mark considered them more along the lines of "masterpieces of insane genius-ness") lined the plum walls. Hanging ornaments, like carved wooden animals and glass prisms hung from her violet-with-puffy-clouds-painted ceiling. On the other side of her room, Marie slept in her enormous purple canopy bed.

Mark crossed over the hardwood floor and Persian carpets, then leaned down next to her bed. "Princess Marie, wake up," he said.

Oddly enough, this was the only thing that could wake her up without using force. He had always said it to her when she was younger to wake her up (back when she had wanted to be a princess), but it still stuck. Now she hated it, but preferred being called a princess to being shaken awake by her annoyingly athletic brother.

Marie opened her big eyes, the same jungle-green color as her brother's. "Good morning," she said, when she saw her brother, offering him a small smile. Even to her twin brother, the person who knew her best in the world, she was always painfully polite. Mark sometimes got frustrated that she even kept her guard up around him, but he couldn't stay mad at her. Nobody could ever stay mad at Marie.

The two twins were very alike, yet very different. They were both relatively well-balanced for growing up in a family of such wealth. Mark was pragmatic, though it wouldn't reveal itself when one talked to him. Marie was a dreamer, who lived inside her own head. Mark told the whole world whatever was on his mind, while Marie was too selfless that she even felt guilty when she admitted she had a cold. Mark was much louder than shy Marie, and the mischievous Mark was a compulsive liar while Marie was too innocent to tell a lie. Mark was somewhat arrogant, but not as spoiled as he should have been as an Ardeaux. Marie wasn't either. Mark thought it must be because she was too kind to be a spoiled brat, though he admitted in a self-deprecating way that he didn't know why he wouldn't be one. Mark, older by just two minutes, was always taking care of Marie. She wasn't a strong person in body or in mind – they both knew this. She got sick too easily and gave up on many things because she felt she was too weak. The brash and sometimes selfish Mark might have seemed like the least likely candidate for the job, but he was Marie's constant guardian.

They looked more alike than they acted. Along with their identical eyes, they both had the same chestnut brown hair, though Marie's fell to the small of her back in loose curls while Mark's was cut short. They shared the same ivory complexions, though Mark's had darkened considerably from all the time he spent outside, and freckles dotted his cheeks. Marie preferred to stay indoors, and so she was extremely pale. They were both tall, with long limbs, but where Marie took after their willowy, thin father in build, Mark took after their strong, athletic mother. This was also somewhat based on their hobbies, but Mark had always been the strong one, where Marie looked so fragile she could break if treated too roughly.

"I'm going to run down and give them our breakfast orders, okay?" Mark informed his sister. "What do you want?"

Marie blinked, then stretched her thin arms above her. "I'm not very hungry. But why don't I go down there and tell Chelsea what we want?" Chelsea was their beloved cook, who enjoyed nothing more than stuffing the twins with extravagant helpings of food.

Mark shook his head, springing up. "Naw, I'll do it! Okay, I'll order you toast and a cheese omelet."

Marie considered this, then smiled. "You know me too well."

"Of course I do! I'm your twin!" Mark grinned. "Seeya at breakfast!" He ran out of Marie's room, closing the door behind him.

After Mark placed orders with Chelsea, he returned to his huge bathroom to shower and dress, just as Marie did a few doors down. Today, he wore jeans that he didn't even know were worth $200 and a baggy red t-shirt, while Marie dressed in a white blouse and a Bohemian-style purple skirt with sequins and beads sewed to it. She beat him downstairs, somehow, even though all he did was throw on clothes and run his hands through his hair. Marie had much more to do to get ready, though she didn't put much time into her appearance, which she deemed unimportant.

"Just on time!" Chelsea sang as she entered the dining room from the kitchen, carrying two plates. "One stack of pancakes and bacon for Mark," she said, setting the plate down in front of him. The pancakes were loaded with maple syrup and powdered sugar, just the way he liked them. "And one omelet and sourdough toast for Marie." The omelet she placed in front of Marie was large and full of lots of cheese, while the toast was slathered with strawberry jam.

"Thank you, Chelsea!" Marie cried, smiling graciously up at their cook.

"Mh, yuh, sanks," Mark said, mouth already stuffed with food.

Marie ate her breakfast in small bites, where Mark barely used silverware. Naturally, he was done first, and bounded upstairs to brush his teeth. Marie soon followed. They finished getting ready downstairs, where they put on their shoes (red and black sneakers for Mark and violet flats for Marie) and hopped in the back of one of the family's black stretch limos. School was only a mile away, but with the traffic in the city, it would still take awhile.

They left their street, which was basically a line of mansions, and turned onto the street that would take them almost all the way to school. After driving a couple blocks, Marie suddenly had a strange feeling.

What in the world? she thought. There was something in the back of her mind that she was supposed to remember. But she just couldn't. She sighed. You're too weak, she told herself. Of course you don't remember anything. Looking out the window, she saw a familiar large house (though it had no comparison with her mansion). It was an old, Victorian-style home, with ivy climbing up the front of the house. She couldn't help but stare at it, as she always did. It had its own tower on one side. She'd always loved houses like that. It was elegant, with but a kind of old-world simplicity that none of her homes had. They were all new and too modern to have that kind of charm to them. As always, she wondered who lived inside the house. What an interesting person they must be…

-x-

"Miguel! Time for school!" came his mother's loud voice.

Miguel Benitez was already awake. He never slept much, which was why he usually had the same rings around his eyes that he had now. He sat up in his bed, and with one hand fished for his glasses that he had set on his bedside table. After putting them on, he stood up and crossed to one of the many windows in his room. He lived in the very house Marie had just been scrutinizing, and his room was in the very top of the tower. It was the smallest bedroom in the big house, but it did have window seats and enough room for his bed and desk – which were really all he needed. He spent all his time on the computer, anyway.

After picking out some clothes, Miguel shuffled into his room's adjoining bedroom and showered, then dressed. He wore pretty much the same thing he did every day: black pants and a striped long-sleeved shirt (today's was striped with blue and white). His dark hair was cropped close to his head, and his piercing tawny eyes peered out accusingly from behind his black plastic-rimmed glasses. His skin was an immaculate golden-brown without a blemish or even freckle in sight – showing his virtual aversion to the sunlight.

Miguel was an introspective, introverted sort of character. He never said what he was thinking, unless it was to point out the futility of something or to correct someone. He was rather cynical in that way, for he was certainly a pessimist. He kept to himself, preferring his own company to that of anyone else. Miguel was very intelligent and spent most of his time either studying, playing the violin, or on the computer. He had taught himself how to work with computers as soon as he had gotten one, and now he was fluent in the languages of CSS and HTML. He wasn't just a web-programming prodigy, though; he could also navigate his way quite well around the hard drives of computers and troubleshoot them when they weren't working. His father always said he had a bright future ahead of him at the Apple store, but then again, careers and money were all his father talked about anyway. Those topics bored Miguel.

With a sigh, Miguel gave his appearance one last glare and headed downstairs, where his mother was waiting. "Good morning, honey!" she exclaimed. "What would you like to eat today?"

Miguel shrugged.

"Your brother's having oatmeal. Do you want that too?"

Miguel gave another shrug of his shoulders. "I don't care."

A peal of laughter was heard from the kitchen. "Oopsie!"

"What's wrong, Tommy?" his mother asked, returning into the kitchen. Miguel followed behind her silently. Their mother gasped when she saw the state of the breakfast nook (which was the lower part of the tower). Tommy, Miguel's six-year-old little brother, had hurled oatmeal all over the room.

"Tomas David Benitez!" their mother screeched. "What have you done?"

"Isn't it obvious, Mommy?" Tommy asked innocently. "I put oatmeal everywhere!"

As their mother continued to stare at the walls in shock, Miguel finally spoke up: "I'm gonna go now."

"Aren't you hungry?" Tommy asked.

Miguel shook his head and left the kitchen, then got his backpack and shoes on in a hurry. He didn't want to be around when his mom started making anyone nearby clean up the mess.

His school was only about a half-mile away, but it was all uphill, which made it the most exercise Miguel received each day. He had lots of time to get to school, though. He had left his house early.

He walked fairly slow past most houses, but had to hurry past one. It was a big pink Tudor-style house a block uphill from his home. If he didn't get past it as fast as he could, he could be stuck walking to school with the girl who lived there. They had an English test today, and on test days she would follow him around as if his intelligence was contagious. Luckily, he made it past her house without seeing her today. Miguel heaved a sigh of relief as he glanced back at the glaring pink house.

-x-

"Wakey wakey!" came Pradie's voice, loud in Tiffany Preston's ear.

"Ahh!" Tiffany screeched, leaping up. When she saw her little sister standing there, her eyes grew wide. "Uggh! Pradie! Go away!"

"But you overslept!" Pradie said.

Tiffany's eyes shot to her clock. "AHHH! NO!" She jumped out of her pink bed and flung open her closet. Her eyes scanned over a sea of pink before she grabbed a few things.

How could I oversleep? she asked herself woefully as she scrambled into her pink-tiled bathroom. I was supposed to get all the answers for the English test from Miguel!

Okay, she didn't have time to shower, but it wasn't like she smelled bad or anything, right? She'd just have to spray herself an extra time with her favorite perfume. She nearly threw her clothes on, then checked in the mirror just to see if they were on right. She wore a pink tank top, a white denim jacket with pink stitching, and a white miniskirt. After a shortened session of primping (only lasting a little over five minutes) Tiffany ran out of her bathroom and slid her pink-toenailed feet inside her favorite white and pink platform flip-flops. She grabbed her backpack, in a light shade of (what else?) pink and flung it over her shoulders.

As already obvious, Tiffany was practically in love with the colors pink and white – especially pink. She had forced her parents (through a skilled tantrum) to paint their house pink when she was six and had been forcing them and everyone else to do whatever else she wanted since. She and her sisters Chanel and Pradie (a strange nickname for Prada, her sister's real name) had always lived comfortable (if not luxurious) lives. Their father worked often, and their mother had been a star at medical school, training to become a doctor, until Mr. Preston was making so much she gave up on it. After all, her husband made enough for her to ensconce herself in designer brands and other expensive trinkets – especially those of her three favorite brands, Chanel (for their suits), Tiffany (diamond necklaces, of course), and Prada (for their handbags). So that was what she named her first three children, and she loved telling people the stories of how they got their names (in actuality, she had four favorite brands, but only three children, so she neglected to tell others that she was yet to have a Burberry).

Tiffany looked almost completely like her mother, as did Chanel and Pradie. They all had curly strawberry blonde hair (though Ms. Preston dyed hers to be blonde-blonde), sky blue eyes, and freckles on their cheeks. Chanel kept her hair cut very short, Pradie's was very long, and Tiffany, as the middle child, also had hair midway down her back. She had her mother's upturned ski-jump of a nose and (what her mother called) "infamously" long legs, but where Ms. Preston was skeletally skinny, Tiffany was (again, what her mother called) "a bit chubby". Because of her mother's constant nagging at her to lose weight and virtually become a mini-Ms. Preston, Tiffany was on constant diets, though they never lasted long because she got bored of them and jealous of her greedy chocolate-eating friends when all she was stuck with was celery, which had too many strings anyway.

Tiffany had somewhat inherited her mother's personality, but they looked much more alike than they acted. Tiffany loved designer clothes. But while her mother was laid-back and usually relaxed (it might have been the champagne, though), Tiffany was rather high-strung. She had extreme emotions that seemed to change at the drop of a hat. She exuded an air of authority, and her stubbornness and willful determination helped get her what she wanted. If they didn't, she would always resort to an old-fashioned meltdown. One thing Tiffany knew was that she would always get her way, no matter how impossible it seemed. However, she also had attributes that didn't sound as negative: her loyalty, for example. She was hard to befriend, especially if you were on her 'hated' list, but once you had gained her trust she would fight for your side. Of course, it was rather negative sounding that she had a 'hated' list at all. It was filled with those who had bothered her, wronged her, or those who she just didn't like. At the very top was Catharine Thomas, just because she annoyed her. Tiffany didn't much enjoy the company of those who didn't like pink. Tiffany wasn't the kindest of people, and she and her friends loved to pick on those who irked them. But to others, like Miguel Benitez, who could help her pass her tests, she was obsequious. She wasn't exactly a good student, so it was natural that missing Miguel had made her cranky that morning – or, at least, crankier than usual.

Tiffany was hungry, but she didn't want to eat any breakfast that morning. Her sisters were annoying, and her parents were worse. They were always arguing these days.

She passed through the kitchen, stomping by. "Going to school," she growled at the four others in the kitchen.

"Have something to eat, Tiffany," her father said.

"Paul, she obviously isn't hungry if she's not eating anything already," her mother told him. "You don't want her to blow up into a balloon, do you?"

"I'd rather have her be a healthy balloon than a dieting stick, Marissa."

"You know I just started this diet, Paul. I can't believe how insensitive you are." As usual, her mother looked relaxed, detached from the conversation.

Tiffany left through the front door. "Tiffany, you get back here!" her father called. She just slammed the door after her. Gazing hopefully up the hill, she saw no sign of Miguel and sighed deeply. She wasn't late to school, just late to walk with him. She began to tread up the hill dejectedly, her feet already hurting.

Why do they make these stupid hills in San Francisco? she asked herself angrily.

-x-

Far away (or possibly not far at all, you never can tell with dimensional overlap), in the Digital World, a small indigo Digimon ran from a larger gold one. The small Digimon appeared to be a strange mixture of fox and dragon. It had fur and fox-like white markings, so that its paws, tail, and snout were dipped in white and its underbelly was powdered with the same color. Its other vulpine characteristics were its pointed ears and its long, bushy tail. However, it had a dragon's face, with a wide muzzle, fangs sharper than a fox's, and reptilian nostrils. Sharp claws grew from all four of its paws and two small black wings rose from its shoulder blades. A large red ornament was embedded into its forehead, resembling some sort of triangle-shaped ruby. As this Digimon ran, its eyes were wide.

The Digimon that chased this one was a creature that resembled a golden lion cub. It had large grey claws and well-defined muscles in its lean, sinewy body. Its eyes were a bright blue and it had two rows of pearly, sharp fangs. A tuft of red fur grew from the top of its head and barely visible blue strands of static electricity bounced around it, crackling as it moved. The lion Digimon's tail was bent at a strange angle, almost like the jagged form of a lightning bolt. On its back, right between the shoulder blades, was a black symbol that looked almost like an upside down 'A'. Around its neck was a golden collar with symbols engraved onto it. Hanging from this was a green pendant that swung back and forth as the lion chased the small blue Digimon.

It was obvious that the larger one wasn't putting much effort in actually catching the smaller one; it looked as if it was only pursuing it for fun. The small Digimon didn't seem to be having much fun, though.

It turned its head around a bit to see the lion Digimon. "Leormon! Wait! It's me, Dorumon! Don't you know me?"

The lion Digimon, Leormon, only growled menacingly and seemed to run faster. "Of course I know you. That's how I know how tasty you are."

Dorumon frantically looked around, then spotted a tree. The Digimon jumped up into the branches, gasping for air. "Come on, Leormon, this isn't funny anymore!"

Leormon stopped, and Dorumon sighed with relief. "You shouldn't scare me like that! I didn't think you'd be much of the practical joke type, but – "

"This isn't a joke." Leormon's voice was deadly cold. "I stopped to point out how foolish you are. You don't think I can climb trees?"

Dorumon blinked. "Well, yes, I mean, no, I mean… I do think you can. I just want to know why you're acting like this!"

"Acting like what?"

"You're not being yourself! This whole, um, trying to kill me thing and everything? It's not how you usually act. Do I really need to remind you of that, though?"

Leormon growled. "This is me being myself."

Dorumon frowned, still breathing hard. "Leormon, come on. We're old friends. I know you, and this isn't you. I mean, I guess this could be some kind of midlife crisis, but then again, you're not middle-aged yet. Maybe your hormones are acting up?"

Leormon growled even louder.

"Okay, okay, I get it, we don't have hormones. We have data. Is that acting up then?"

Leormon roared, making Dorumon jump. "I told you not to do that! It scares me so much!"

Leormon bent low to the ground, then sprang up at Dorumon. The small Digimon moved just in time, plummeting back down to the ground with a thud. "Ow! That wasn't very nice, Leormon!"

The lion, up in the tree, roared again, then leapt down at Dorumon, claws extended. The little Digimon rolled out of the way, then jumped up and began to run again. "I changed my mind! Compared to that, running is fun!"

-x-

It was no coincidence that Catharine Thomas, Mark Ardeaux, Marie Ardeaux, Miguel Benitez, and Tiffany Preston were all freshmen at Golden Gate High School (student population 3000) in San Francisco. It also was no coincidence that they were all, in some way, related. Mark and Marie were the easy ones, as twins. Tiffany had always been in awe of the Ardeaux family, because although the Prestons were wealthy, they weren't that wealthy. Miguel was always trying to avoid Tiffany, who he regarded as an annoying insect buzzing in his ear. And Cat and Tiffany were mortal enemies. In some way, Tiffany was in the middle of them all, though she was either disliked by them (Cat and Miguel) or unknown to them (the twins). It was also no coincidence that they all received a note from the office at about 8:17 while they were in first period. There were, really, no coincidences.

The note simply said: "Come to the computer lab at once. You will be excused from class."

The thought of being excused from class motivated everyone but Marie and Miguel. Marie went because it told her to, and Miguel loved the computer lab anyway.

They all showed up at about the same time, though Cat was first and Marie second.

"Marie!" Mark exclaimed, once he entered into the lab, the third person. "You got one too?"

Marie nodded, biting her lip. "I hope we're not in trouble."

"Well, unless the principal moved her office to the computer lab – which she didn't, cause I had to go see her yesterday – we're safe."

Tiffany, the next to show up, shot the twins what she considered her most winning smile when she saw them, but they didn't seem to notice. Sticking her lip out in an exaggerated pout, she looked around the computer lab to see who else was there. She rolled her eyes at Cat. "Ugh. I have to be stuck in a room with you?"

Cat shrugged. "You are usually, aren't you? I mean, we have Biology and Gym together."

Tiffany sighed, exasperated. "Look, I'm not having a good day. I'm going to fail my English test. Can you please just try and not ruin my day even more?"

Cat tilted her head, amused. "You have good days now?"

Tiffany opened her mouth angrily, but then Miguel walked in, the last one to arrive. Her eyes lit up. "Miguel!"

The quiet boy, at seeing Tiffany, groaned inwardly. Just my luck, he thought.

"Do you know what we were supposed to study for English? I'm sure you do, as always, cause you're just so smart!"

Cat smiled, glad Tiffany's attention was away from her. She surveyed the room, checking yet again for anyone who might strangely pop out from behind something. "This is so weird," she said.

Mark flopped down in a chair, pulling the one next to it out for Marie. "It's cool that we get to miss class and everything, but what are we supposed to be doing here?"

"Maybe we were picked to lead our school in the National Computer Contest!" Cat suggested excitedly.

Tiffany snorted. "Why would they pick you? You're not smart."

Cat stuck her tongue out at Tiffany. "You're the one getting all the English answers from him," she said. She sent Miguel a small smile. "Sorry, uh, I don't know your name."

He stared straight at her, but didn't say a word. Cat blinked. "Um, okay…"

"Ugh, how immature! I can't believe you just stuck your tongue out at me. Some people are just like little kids!" Tiffany sniffed.

"I'm glad you're not into catfights like them," Mark hissed at Marie, though it was loud enough for everyone else to hear.

Marie turned pink. "Mark!"

Tiffany took a deep breath. "This is not a catfight. I am above catfights! And I am above her level! She is the one who was sticking her tongue out at me!"

Cat, on the other hand, grinned. "That's so funny you should say that! 'Catfight', I mean. That's my name!"

Mark nodded slowly. "Catfight?"

"Um, no! Cat!"

"Oh. Okay. Right."

Marie elbowed him, then looked at Cat. "I apologize for Mark… What he means to say is that it's very nice to meet you, Cat!"

"Um, thanks. You too."

"She's Marie. I'm Mark. We're twins," Mark informed Cat lazily.

It took a moment for Cat to catch on. "You mean… You two are Mark and Marie Ardeaux?"

Marie nodded.

"Wow! I've heard of you!"

Tiffany rolled her eyes. "Of course you've heard of them. Everyone has heard of them." She smiled at the twins. "I'm Tiffany! I always read about you in magazines. Oh, I love seeing pictures of your houses, by the way! The villa in Italy is amazing!"

Marie smiled and nodded. Mark sighed and crossed his arms, proud look on his face. "Yeah, it's pretty nice. It gets weird having all these reporters and photographers in your house, though. They come to shoot all our houses, y'know?"

Tiffany nodded. "Oh, I know! I always see your picture at the end, too!"

"They always want to take a picture of us at the end. Guess it's cause I'm just so good looking!" Mark said with a grin.

"Well, obviously!" Tiffany agreed, giggling.

Now Cat was the one to roll her eyes. "Here she goes again," she muttered. She glanced at Miguel. "Sorry, but your girlfriend has moved onto someone new already."

He smirked a tiny bit. "Hopefully she never comes back."

Cat grinned. "You do talk!"

Miguel shrugged, smirk sliding off his face.

"What's your name?"

"Miguel. Miguel Benitez."

"Hey… aren't you that kid who won that computer thingy?" Cat asked, eyes wide.

He nodded.

"Wow! You must be real good with computers, then, huh?"

He nodded again, though inwardly was correcting her grammar.

"Will you show me something you can do on the computer but nobody else knows how to do?" she inquired.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Pick a computer."

Cat closed one eye. "Hmm… That one!" She pointed at a random computer, to the left of Mark. They headed over to it, and Miguel sat down in the chair.

"It's just some hacking trick I somehow came across. I've never met anyone else who knows how to do it. It's not that complicated, but it's never worked for anyone else, even when I try and walk them through it. I guess I've never been there in person to see what they're doing wrong."

Cat blinked, surprised. Now he was talking a lot! "So what's hacking?"

He looked up at her, eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

Cat laughed nervously. "Uh, of course not! Haha… I so know what hacking is!"

He nodded, then looked back down at the computer. "So I'll open up a browser window and go on the Internet, see?"

She nodded. That much she understood, at least.

"What are you guys doing?" Mark asked, leaning over.

"Hacking!" Cat announced brightly.

"Now, pick a website you want me to hack into," Miguel said.

"Um… Hey, what's that?" Cat asked. She pointed to a window that had just popped up. It had a bunch of dancing animal-things and said in big, bold letters: "CLICK MEEE!"

Miguel sighed. "It's just a dumb popup." He scrolled the mouse over to close the window, but Cat knocked his hand off it.

"But it wants us to click it, right? We have to do what it says or else we'll get in trouble! Maybe this is a test for our computer literacy, and if we don't click on it then we'll all fail school!"

"No, it's just a popup. They all say to click them – "

"Ugh, you're so dumb, Cat," Tiffany said, coming over. "Don't you even have the internet? Or are you too poor?"

Cat ignored her, though she resented the fact that Tiffany had figured out she didn't have any Internet connection at her house, and clicked the popup link. The cartoon animals smiled, then they were redirected to another site, all in Japanese and with a big image on it. The image resembled a big steel door, but it had a black symbol on it that looked almost like a V with a line through it. "Uh… Can anyone read this language thing?"

"That thing looks like the symbol for anarchy," Mark said. "Only upside down, and with no circle, and… okay, different."

"Not the symbol in the picture," Cat said. "The writing below!"

"That's Japanese," Marie identified. "Mark and I can speak it, but we can't read it."

"Oh, yeah! Don't you have a house in Japan?" Tiffany gushed. "That one is so nice!"

Mark grinned. "Yeah, it is… It's near Tokyo. It has great views of Mount Sinai."

Marie coughed. "Fuji."

"Fuji, of course!"

"Here, hack into this one," Cat said. "I mean, we're at it already, right? We have to do it quickly before anyone comes in and finds us playing on the computer."

Miguel pressed a few buttons at once and brought up a text box, then typed in a confusing series of characters faster than Cat thought she could talk. When he had written about seven lines of what looked to everyone else like mumbo-jumbo computer code, he said, "And now we press enter."

Cat jumped up in the air. "Ooh! Can I do it?"

Miguel nodded. "Go ahead. Just remember to press it only once."

"So once you hack into this, what happens?" Mark asked.

"You'll see," Miguel said.

Cat pressed enter. The text box vanished, and the webpage on the screen started to move back and forth. "That's so cool! So that's what hacking is?" Cat asked.

Miguel shook his head. "No… No, this shouldn't be happening," he said. He tried to close the webpage, but the mouse wouldn't move. "It's frozen," he said. He pressed random keys, trying to shut down the computer, but nothing worked. Suddenly, the image of the steel door began to change. The door began slowly to move apart, separating the upside-down 'A' symbol on the front of it. Where the door opened, light came out.

"Miguel! What's going on?" Tiffany shrieked.

"I… I don't know," he said, still pressing buttons. "Nothing's working. I'm going to have to unplug it."

Before he could reach down and unplug the computer, a chiming sound was heard from the computer. The door finished opening, leaving a rectangle of light shining from the computer. The light poured out across the room of the computer lab and across all five of their astonished faces.

And then the light surrounded them and pulled them into the computer, through the door, all the way into another world.

End of Chapter One: Meet the Hackers

Yay! Oh, by the way, the twins' part was longer than anyone else's because there are two of them. If that needed explaining. xD

Anyway, did you like it? Hate it? Well, whatever… Just review, please! I know it's short so far, and not really into the whole Digimon part yet, but yeah. It's just an introduction. Sorry if I sound like I have no idea what I'm talking about with the hacking thing… I don't know very much about hacking, just a little bit. x3 I hope to have the next chapter up soon. If I get reviews, they inspire me to write even quicker. ;D