Note: Due to the length of the chapter I was writing, I split "The Insanity of Phelesmon" into two parts: Chapter 28, "Death Camp," and, coming soon, Chapter 29, "The Insanity of Phelesmon" (because I can't waste such an awesome title).

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Digimon. A guy from Hong Kong named Akiyoshi Hongo does. But who is he? No one knows.

Previously on Digimon Genesis . . . Hiamon digivolved to his ultimate form of Radiatimon. After a brief clash between the ultimates, the Genesis Team were arrested for fighting in the city! Now they're off to who knows where, led by a slobbering Ogremon!

DIGIMON GENESIS

CHAPTER 28

DEATH CAMP

Hiamon flew at a near ninety miles per hour. His wings were tired and he was breathing rapidly, but he had more than enough strength to complete the journey from Civil City to his destination, the land of the four guardians of the Digital World - wherever that was. Atop him stood a hyperactive Ogremon. The ugly monster, unable to fly, had climbed on Hiamon's back, partially to give directions, but mostly because he wanted an exciting ride. The directions he gave were vague. Unfortunately for the dragon Digimon, Ogremon jabbed him in the back with his spike club every time he made a wrong turn, flew badly, or 'growled funnily'. The club did not hurt, but the constant tap on his already sore neck was annoying. At the present moment the ogre was again jabbing him in the neck, not as a punishment for a wrong turn, but as a signal to go faster. Hiamon did as instructed, not to give Ogremon pleasure, but to fly so fast that the ugly officer would fall off. At least, that was what he would have liked to do, but he feared that this move would result in an even more severe punishment, with an infinite term in prison. Hiamon was going very fast, but this high speed still did not satisfy his captor. His repulsive white hair blowing in the wind behind him, Ogremon delivered another jab to the back.

"You think that's fast!?" spat Ogremon in the wind. He wiped the spittle off his face, then exclaimed: "You're even slower than the staff at the Dimensional Affairs building! You - GAAH!"

Hiamon did not go any faster, but he had almost bucked off his annoying rider. Having no intention of getting themselves in more trouble, the dragon made sure that his captor would slide right off his back and would land on his behind. Hiamon tossed Ogremon on his back again with the swish of a tail. And though Ogremon gave Hiamon a powerful wallop on the neck with his bone club, the villain did not ask for a speedier ride for the remainder of the trip. Hiamon turned his hood to the left. Alongside of him was Mikemon riding on Mekanorimon and Suraiimon on Hypothermon (Ogremon had ordered him to evolve to his ultimate level so he could fly). At this moment he wished Ogremon had chosen to fly on someone else. Being big has its disadvantages, he thought sadly, as his rider tapped him lightly on the neck.

"Hey!" he shouted scratchily. "We'll be there soon! You might want to think about landing!"
"Already thought of it," grinned Hiamon evilly. What he had in mind was a nose-dive, one that would knock Ogremon off when they landed. The dragon swooped down, surprising the green ogre.

"Hey!" he shouted in the wind as Hiamon jetted to the ground. Ogremon held on to the dragon's neck for dear life, crying and babbling indistinctively. The others, who had been following Hiamon, flew down in pursuit, but none of them was as reckless as their leader, who nearly dropped his rider as he neared their destination. Ogremon whined and screamed, and when they did land - in the middle of a desert - Hiamon really did drop Ogremon, who ended up swallowing a quart's worth of sand (but that could not be avoided, for Ogremon's mouth seemed impossible to close). The poor law officer was found sputtering and coughing when the others landed by his side. Hiamon stood up on two legs and dusted the dirt off his body, allowing the desert winds to blow it in Ogremon's face. He half expected a punishment from him, but in fact the ogre was grateful for the ride and did not strike him.

"I should let you free for a while, and your punishment will be having to give me free rides!" he laughed maniacally, clearly not grasping that Hiamon had intentionally dumped him. Then he walked around dizzily, saying things like "Some ride" every once in a while, and acting like a dazed child who had just got off of a roller coaster. Hiamon did not dare dedigivolve to human form. Instead he and the others looked around. There was not much to see, which was fortunate, for the desert winds kept blowing sand in his eyes.

"Looks like the middle of no where," Reina observed, as Suraiimon. Hiamon nodded. It reminded him of the desert they came to when they first entered the Digital World. Now that seemed so long ago, like a dream . . .

"Well, this certainly will delay our trip to Midgard City," Hiamon said with a tinge of anger in his voice. Nothing, nothing had gone right this whole stupid trip.

"Shh!" Mekanorimon warned. "Ogremon will hear you!"
"Oh, I don't care about that stupid old idiot," Hiamon decided, with a glance at Ogremon, who was still coughing up sand and walking around dizzily. Hypothermon used this time to dedigivolve to human, then use his D-Monster to evolve to Kibamon, who required less energy than his powerful ultimate form. During this moment, a god-like voice spoke from the sky, and with it came a bolt of thunder. The Genesis Team cautiously stood on the ground, bewildered at the voice, who said:
"Welcome, fellow Digimon. You do not know how proud I am to see you here today. Rarely do I see such strong creatures wishing to help us!" The voice was one of peace, but to Ogremon, it was one of power. Sand spilling from his mouth like drool, he kneeled down to the possessor of the voice as the people of Civil City had kneeled down to the Elder.

"Holy, holy Azulongmon, guardian of the Eastern Digital World, all Digimon kneel to you. You are the Elder of Elders, the keeper of all that is good and sacred of this world. A thousand of me, nor even a million of me, rivals you in power. May your eternal glory never perish!" Then the Genesis Team saw something in the dark sky, thin and indistinct at first, then thick and distinct. A long, long, long blue dragon was floating in the clouds above them. He wore a blue helmet with a thunder bolt protruding from it. He was covered in chains and surrounded by little blue orbs. Possibly the most recognizable feature, beside of his great body, was his long, silvery beard. His six red eyes scanned the ground, eyeing the six tiny figures below him. It was no wonder Ogremon treated him like a god.

Suraiimon scanned him. "Azulongmon, mega level, data type. His special attack to Sourai." The red fox Digimon looked up. "There's that mega level again. What is it?" Ogremon turned to Suraiimon and cuffed his evil green hands into fists.

"Fool! Mega is the highest level, the level beyond ultimate. King Daemon is that level, as is the great Azulongmon." He looked back up at the dragon. "Pardon her ignorance, Sir, but she's only a vaccine type."
The thunder dragon let out a great, thunderous laugh. Then he spoke with a voice that reminded Takumi of a wise old wizard. Whether he was actually wise or not was something they would soon find out.

"Are these new volunteers, Ogremon?" asked the thunder dragon, with an unsure look down at the Genesis Team. Ogremon twirled his long, white hair with his finger, and with a fake sigh, said:
"'Fraid not, Azulongmon. They were arrested just this morning - for fighting in a city."
"Oh, that's too bad," Said Azulongmon, not sounding sorry at all. "Er - if I may ask, which city?"
"Civil," was the reply from Ogremon, who had put his large hands into his pockets. Azulongmon shook his head sadly. "Well, if you live in a city like that it's no wonder you were fighting. Yes, some good, old-fashioned discipline for that whole town would do them well, especially for that disgraceful Elder."

"Sounds like you need some discipline yourself," muttered Hiamon under his breath. Ogremon placed his hands behind his head, as though relaxed. "It's a wonder they call it Civil City, huh, Azulongmon?" He laughed at his own joke, the dragon only too happy to join in. Hiamon folded his arms. He decided that Azulongmon wasn't that wise after all. He turned to Reina, who even as a fox looked disgusted at his words.

"I think this guy's just as crazy as Ogremon and SkullSatamon," Hiamon whispered in her ear, which drew a nod of agreement. After a few minutes of boring conversation between the guardian and Ogremon, the latter departed with a wave, off to other business of some sort.

"Well, they're all yours now, Azulongmon. Try to make their punishment as painful as possible!" He laughed as he turned away, making Takumi fear the worst discipline imaginable. But Azulongmon wanted his friend to remain longer.

"Er - are you sure you don't want to stay for lunch?" he asked at the departing ogre.

"Lunch?"
"In our own cafeteria." With his head, Azulongmon motioned father into the middle of no where, beyond some rocky cliffs. Behind them must have been a cafeteria. Hiamon's stomach growled at the thought of food, but Ogremon's stomach underwent something similar to a barrel roll.

"No thanks," he declined, holding his belly as though it were about to turn inside out. "I - I already had lunch," he lied. "Well . . . think I'll be off to Midgard City . . . g'bye!" And with yet another wave he finally departed, forced to walk for miles to Midgard City - the place where Takumi yearned to go. Perhaps it was the desire to go with Ogremon that made him sad that he was leaving. Or maybe it was because they were now under the six watchful eyes of Azulongmon, thought Takumi thought it less likely for him to hurt them. This insecurity sent a shiver down Hiamon's spine. Even Azulongmon's optimistic voice wasn't enough to cure him of his fear.

"Hello, my friends!" the dragon said, towering over them all. "Well, I suppose it's best to get started now!" His eyes turned sad. "And in just a week, it'll be time to go! Oh, how sad!" He bowed his head. Hiamon felt like he would vomit. Now, Azulongmon was reminding him of a preschool teacher. Fake tears began to form in the dragon's six eyes, and in six seconds the six tears fell to the ground with a loud SPLOOSH. One of them Hiamon only barely dodged. After the guardian's mentally traumatizing fake crying session was through, Azulongmon got much more business-like. "Now! First you start building - er, after you meet with the other guardians."

"Other guardians?" Kibamon said, his mouth dropping over. Hiamon knew that he and Kibamon were thinking along the same lines - more preschool teachers. The first guardian led the Genesis Team through a canyon, where they saw three other beasts, some as great as Azulongmon. Their suspicions of preschool teachers were incorrect. The fourth guardian, Baihumon, was nothing like a preschool teacher. A large, blue and white tiger with large fangs, Baihumon was the most powerful of the guardians, as was revealed through Mekanorimon's scan:

"Baihumon, data-type. Mega level. The most powerful guardian, his attack is Kongou." He gawked at the tiger while the other guardians were scanned. A tree Digimon with two long-necked creatures protruding from it was the oldest guardian.

"Ebonwumon, vaccine type," Kibamon read from his D-Pendulum. "Mega level. Special attack: Mugen." A fiery, great bird Digimon was a virus type. Yuka scanned him.

"Zhuqiaomon, mega level, virus type. His special attack is Kouen." Hiamon scratched his head, peering around at the great Digimon.

"How are you supposed to remember all their names? Let's see . . . Azulongmon's the dragon, Baihumon's the tiger, Ebonwumon's the bird, and Zhuqiaomon is the tree guy. Right?" He pointed to each guardian as he spoke their name.

"Uh, Takumi, you mixed up the names. Ebonwumon is the tree lizard, and Zhuqiaomon is the bird," Mekanorimon quickly corrected. He had taken a great interest in Ebonwumon, and was asking him many questions about the ancient days.

"Oh, right," said an embarrassed Hiamon, going red in the face. Zhuqiaomon flew near Hiamon.

"Virus type, eh?" he said after (apparently) smelling him. "Well, then, it's a pleasure to meet you!"
"Uh - pleasure to meet you too," said Hiamon awkwardly. He was a bit fumed at the fact that he, of all types, was a virus type. The other virus types of the group seemed to share the same feelings. Kibamon quickly recognized the connection between type and respect. It was a pleasure for Zhuqiaomon to meet Hiamon, Kibamon, Mekanorimon, and Mikemon, but Suraiimon only received a disappointing nod when she was introduced. After conversing with the four guardians (who were all very nice, to the virus types) Azulongmon led them to their camp: A barren wasteland in a valley of rocks. There, they were given instructions on what they were to do for the next seven days. There, Azulongmon talked to them in a much more businesslike manner than ever before.

"Now, for the next week you shall be assisting us guardians and other fugitives like yourselves in the construction of four very valuable objects. No questions are to be asked surrounding their purpose or anything else. You are to work tirelessly and productively. Failure to comply with these rules will result in two weeks' time in our very own jailhouse!" Azulongmon gestured with his head towards the camp. "Is that clear?" Hiamon and the others nodded, wondering what they would be constructing. It turned out to be four extremely large black stones - some as big as Ebonwumon. The Genesis Team dropped their mouths in awe. Two stones were completed, one was halfway done, and the fourth had just been started - and by the looks of it, it would not be finished for a long, long time.

"So . . . what do we do?" said Suraiimon, looking around at the gigantic boulders.

"Do? You are supposed to chip off boulders from that mountain." Azulongmon showed them a tall pile of dark rocks. Some Digimon, no doubt also prisoners, were beginning to transfer the rocks from the pile to the third and fourth stones, making sure to compress them so it looked whole. Zhuqiaomon was supervising them.

"Don't be a fool, Greymon!" he scowled at an orange dinosaur Digimon. "You're not anywhere near finished!" Azulongmon turned to the Genesis Team.

"Well, off you go!" he said, sounding as though they were going to an amusement park. But it was far from an amusement park, as Takumi soon learned. The task, though it was good exercise, was very boring. Furthermore, Takumi had to be in his Digimon form the whole time to avoid being caught as a human, and it was hardly trivial to pick up huge rocks when you only had three claws on each hand. He later found himself picking up the rocks with his mouth, but that also proved ill; he ended up swallowing some of the dirt. He was always moving, and ended up getting a headache near the end of his work. His friends, who he bumped heads with as they fought for the bigger rocks, did not find the task any easier. Kibamon and Suraiimon had the same problem carrying the dirt as Hiamon did, and Mikemon was just not built for lifting 100-pound rocks. The only one of their number who did not seem to have any trouble was Mekanorimon, who was built (literally) for carrying and traveling. The only thrill that Takumi received from all this character-building was seeing all the new Digimon. Though the prisoners at the camp were of a small number (and even smaller for Digimon standards) the creatures themselves made up for it. When Zhuqiaomon turned away from them, Takumi took the chance to talk to Ryota about them. Hiamon flew near the ground, gliding over his friend as he went to retrieve more rocks.

"You know what? I've noticed something . . ." the dragon began.

"What?"

"Look at the other Digimon at this camp. I've noticed something," he repeated.

"Well, don't leave me hanging in suspense," growled Kibamon. "What've you noticed?"

"Only a very small number here are virus-types," Hiamon stated. Kibamon looked up as a dinosaur Digimon with a hard shell and a large horn accidentally collided with a huge, blue-gray bug. "Not including us," the dragon added quickly, "but we shouldn't count."
"Yeah . . . so?"
"So! Don't you get it? It's a biased system of law!" shouted Hiamon, so loudly that the MetalGreymon behind him could hear. Kibamon, however, remained uninterested.

"How do you know that most of them are not virus types?"

"I used my D-Pendulum, of course. See, only Devimon -" He pointed to a black Digimon with ripped-up wings, "and SkullGreymon -" (a vicious, living dinosaur skeleton) - "are virus types." Kibamon shrugged, as though it were not his concern.

"Oh well. What can you expect, with a king who hates hu -" A long pause.

"Yeah?"
More silence.

"Well? What were you saying about the king hating humans? Hello? Kibamon?" Still no answer. His friend looked like he could not hear nor see him. Only when a shadow loomed over him did he realized why Kibamon had ceased speaking. Zhuqiaomon was watching them through his six red eyes. Fortunately, he did not say anything to them - he only yelled at an Airdramon for flying funnily. And so they stopped talking altogether and continued their work. In that time, another four hours passed, and by the end of it Takumi felt weaker, angrier, and hungrier than ever.

* * *

At seven o'clock it was finally time for dinner. Shun read the time on his D-Pendulum, but the Genesis Team could care less for the hour. Food, even if it was horrible food, was the only thing they cared about. The group was one of the last in line to get their meal, but that didn't matter either: The line was quick because there were so few Digimon. Most of them ordered only small amounts of meat, save a very hungry Devimon (who purchased three plates' full). Minutes later Takumi confirmed that Devimon was crazy. What they were being served (by old, hag-like Digimon, no less) looked like a glop of brown goo with purple rice in it. An ugly-faced creature named Babamon gave them one scoop of the stuff, and Ryota just about went sick. As they sat down at their table next to an angelic monster, he vowed not to even touch it. But hunger swayed him, and though the food was far from appetizing, the group was soon filled up.

Since they were still in their animal-like Digimon forms, it was very difficult to carry plates, and accidents could not easily be avoided. Just as he was getting up from his seat, Mekanorimon fumbled with his plate and finally dropped it on the angel. Fortunately, there was not much left on the plate to drop, and the angel monster was very pleasant about the whole thing.

"Accidents happen," he said dismissively, sweeping up the glop back on the plate, which he handed back to Mekanorimon. The robot thanked the monster, who introduced himself as Angemon. Like Suraiimon, he was a vaccine type.

"Well, an angel Digimon like you just couldn't be a virus type," laughed Mekanorimon when he returned from the trash can. Angemon frowned.

"Just don't let them here you say that," he whispered softly to the group. Takumi looked over at the far end of the cafeteria, and there was Zhuqiaomon, plain as day, laughing at a joke with Devimon and SkullGreymon. How he fit inside the cafeteria was a mystery.

"Powerful Digimon like the guardians have the power to increase or decrease their size," Angemon explained at their curious faces. He turned back to Mekanorimon. "Pardon me, but aren't all Mekanorimon virus-types?"

"Yes, but . . ." Mekanorimon looked around with caution. "We're not so fond of them . . ."
"Shun! I mean, Mekanorimon, be quiet!" Hiamon whispered.

"It's all right." Angemon softened his voice again. "Nearly all vaccine and date types don't like them very much." He motioned towards a door. "Want to go outside? Right now's our free hour, then we all have to go to bed."
"Sure," chorused the group. They were eager to speak with a vaccine type, someone who was probably in their same situation. So off they marched, following Angemon outside into the desert wilderness. From the door of the cafeteria was a small patio, with benches for Digimon to sit on. Across from it was a long building with barred windows - obviously bedrooms for the prisoners. No doubt it reminded Shun of juvenile hall. About three hundred feet away from these structures sat another building. One story high and very run-down, it looked small and lonely in the evening darkness. This sent a shiver down Takumi's spine; it reminded him of a ghost town, but it was something more than that . . . it was as though he had seen this little building before, somewhere in a nightmare. But the building itself was not at all scary on the outside.

Odd, Takumi thought as Angemon led them between the cafeteria and the other building and into the wide, open desert space. A gust of wind blew sand everywhere, making him feel grateful that he had not been walking against it. When they had arrived near a large mound of sand, their newfound friend looked around, making sure they were out of earshot of the guardians (who were still in the cafeteria).

Angemon kicked a pile of sand, which blew away in the wind. Facing the Genesis Team, he asked, "So, where do you come from? How did you get here?"
"Bad experiences," said Kibamon. "I, er, fought in a city with Hiamon." He glanced at the dragon. Angemon frowned.

"You fought with Hiamon?" he asked.

"Er - yes. I mean, not against him, with him - against a Golemon."
"With some help from us," added Mikemon, continuing with Kibamon's swift cover-up. If he had let out that Radiatimon and Hypothermon had fought against each other in a city, then they would have a lot of explaining to do - and the Team still did not know what Angemon thought - or once thought - of humans. Being a vaccine type, he probably respected humans, but they couldn't be too sure.

"Yes," said Kibamon, "we fought in a city, trying to defend it, and then we get arrested." This was true, it was one of the items Hiamon had charged them with.

"Oh, really?" said the Angemon sadly. "I was brought here on a similar charge. Er, do you mind if I ask you what city you fought in?"
"Civil City," was the reply from Suraiimon.

"Really? Well, what a coincidence! I come from Midgard City!"
This was too much for Hiamon to handle: What luck! Someone from Midgard City! in his joy, he foolishly asked Angemon a daring question: "Did you know my father? I think he lived in Midgard City! So, did you know him? His name was Kairu Hito, he was -" He said this all very fast, but was cut short by Angemon, who held a hand up to silence him. Meanwhile, the other digital humans had nearly collapsed in exasperation. Kibamon thought quickly to avoid Hiamon from opening his mouth again.

"Wait a minute, how's that a coincidence, you know, you coming from Midgard City?" Angemon turned to Kibamon, who Hiamon had knocked to the ground in his need for answers.

"It's a coincidence," he said, "because Civil and Midgard are the only human-loving cities left. They're like brothers. But . . . I believe your friend wanted to ask me something . . . ?" Hiamon was on his knees, his hands folded pleadingly.

"My father! did you know him - lived in Midgard - name was Kairu Hito - killed in the First Slaughter?" Angemon did not understand, so Hiamon asked his question once again as his fellow group members sighed in disbelief. After the question was presented, once more, much slowly. Angemon scratched his chin and thought. "Your father . . . you said his name was . . ."
"Kairu Hito."
"Kairu Hito? Does that mean your father was a human and your mother a Digimon?" More sighs from the group. This would lead to the ultimate question . . .

"No, no, no! Both my parents were humans!"
"But wait . . . doesn't that mean - but you're . . ." In a few minutes, the truth was unveiled: The Genesis Team reluctantly told the story of how they had been chosen by the Shadow Gang, how Kairu and his friends got to the Digital World, and their sad demise, and how they had really got to the prison camp. When the story had been thoroughly told, nearly an hour had passed and it was growing considerably darker.

"Hmm," said Angemon, "that is a long story, and in parts confusing and unbelievable . . ."
"WHAT!?" shouted Hiamon. "What do you mean, you don't believe it? We've got proof! Look here, I'll just use my D-Monster and turn myself back into a human!"

"Wait, wait!" Angemon shouted, holding up both arms for silence. "I believe your story, and I believe that you are really humans - unreal though it may seem - but don't transform to a human in this place - the guardians would kill you! They hate - or rather, hated - humans!"

"We know, we know," Mikemon whispered. She looked around at the fear of being overheard. "The Elder in Civil City told us about Daemon and the Slaughter. They were terrible," she said softly. Angemon nodded and turned to the group with a sober expression on his face.

"Yes. They were very terrible. As you may have heard, the cities of Midgard and Civil are the only two cities who oppose Daemon. Daemon says that he is their ruler, but they do not consider themselves subjects under him. I know I don't." He sighed, and in the evening desert wind, his angelic body seemed more majestic than ever. "In fact, it was because I opposed Daemon that I was sent to this camp in the first place. You say you have to spend a week here? Even though they have found no evidence of my opposition of Daemon, they wouldn't let me go that easily - I have already stayed here six months. I have another four and a half to go."

The Genesis Team were appalled at this revelation. And they though that they had it bad.

"What did you get arrested for?" asked Ryota. "I mean, how did you "oppose" King Daemon?"
"Don't call him that," whispered Angemon. "He's not my king. As for your question, they charged me with trying to create a rebellion against Daemon and his officials." The angel Digimon grew very quiet as he stood rooted in the sand. "It was true, of course - but they don't know that. They didn't have any evidence. But they would have liked to have me killed."
"Who's they?" asked Hiamon.

"MarineDevimon's law officers. He has them on land, on sea, and in the sky. When they don't spot trouble, he sees it through cameras he puts in secret places - even in Civil and Midgard City. If you're in front of a camera, you can't criticize Daemon or his administration, nor do anything that he deems illegal. For example, he doesn't allow Digimon of different types to attend the same schools."

"That's awful," muttered Suraiimon.

"Not really," muttered Hiamon in return.

Angemon let out a loud, long sigh. "Anyway, the law officers wanted me dead. They sent me to some of the highest courts in this world. I was a court away from SkullSatamon. But then a judge ordered that I go to this camp to assist the digital guardians in constructing. While this place is boring and I am worried about my life, I am mostly worried about my army."
"Your army?" said Mekanorimon.

"Well, I started working on it when I digivolved to this form - I couldn't let others pick on me - or anyone in the town. When a law officer whipped an innocent Digimon, I stepped in and killed the officer. Others in the city were impressed, and they offered to join me in my little crusade against the officials. Well, before long, half the city was under my belt. Which isn't bad, when I'm only five years old."

The sound of five mouths dropping to the ground was great. "You're only FIVE!?" exclaimed Mikemon. "I'm older than you!"

Angemon chuckled. "Digimon age faster than humans, and we also live a lot longer. We become adults when we digivolve to champion at the age of five. To go ultimate, you must win a lot of battles. Mega requires a combination of weird things, but it's possible for a Digimon to be a mega at the age of five." More stunned looks. "But, that's extremely rare," he added. "And, of course, not all Digimon evolve to ultimate." He laughed. "The last Elder in Midgard City was a champion Digimon!"

The revelation of Angemon's young age, though it may have been humorous for the rest of the group, was not at all funny to Hiamon. Being only five, there was no chance of Angemon knowing his father.

"Our current Elder, you see, is -"

BOOM!

Hiamon covered his eyes instinctively; there was a huge flash of what looked like lightning, then a massive explosion. The dragon could feel the temperature boiling - to him it felt good, but to Kibamon it probably felt like a thousand knives. When Hiamon opened his eyes, his friends were crouching down, still in their Digimon forms, and looking very much afraid. From the cafeteria was another thunderous boom, then Zhuqiaomon, who had expanded to the size of a skyscraper, appeared from a cloud of smoke. The bird Digimon laughed loudly. Then he spread his mighty wings over the camp. After all was calm, there was clapping from all the Digimon prisoners, then a flash of red, followed my more of Zhuqiaomon's laughter. Hiamon breathed a sigh of relief. The flashes and the heat and the lightning had all been Zhuqiaomon's idea of a show. When the performance was over, it was followed by more clapping and cheering. Only now did Hiamon realize that they were not the only ones outside: A hundred feet away from them were other prisoners, talking and joking with their roommates. But now all was quiet, and every set of eyes were on Zhuqiaomon. The great bird Digimon waited for the effect of his show to wear off, then gave a long speech to the prisoners.

"Hello, the other guardians and I wish you welcome to Purification Camp," he said in a booming voice, "so named that it will purify your souls and expel all evilness from your body." This reminded Takumi of an annoying women's shampoo commercial two years back. "Most of you shall be staying here at this camp for one week, some of you more, due to more severe charges. At Purification Camp, we offer a thorough discipline course. When you are released from this camp, you will no longer have any desire to break any laws. In fact, you will want to stay here, forever!" Another laugh, but then he narrowed his four thin eyes and gazed around at the crowd in a vulture-like manner. "But some of you do not want to stay here. Some of you want to distance yourself away from this place as far as possible. Yes, I know that." Now he spoke barely more than a growl. "You will find that there are no guards or gates to keep you from doing just that." He smiled grimly. "We don't need them. Since Purification Camp opened about, oh, ten years ago, we have only had two prisoners try to escape. One of them I caught with ease, then I roasted him with my fire attack. And let me tell you - he never saw freedom - then again, he never saw anything else either!"

He let out another loud laugh, but the prisoners did not join him. Now they were whispering amongst themselves, clearly fearful of the guardians. Now Hiamon could see why there had been only two people who had attempted to escape - the threat of being roasted alone was enough to keep anyone from staying within the boundaries.

Suraiimon turned to Angemon. "He doesn't really mean that, does he?"
Angemon gritted his teeth. "I don't think he's bluffing. He tells that story every week, and I don't remember seeing any gates when I came here."

"I wonder if the prisoner who was killed was also put in here unfairly," said Mikemon gloomily.

"No doubt," replied Mekanorimon.

Zhuqiaomon continued with his speech. "From the time you get up to the time you get dinner, you will work. Afterwards, you will get a 'free hour'. We do have curfew, and when the hour is over you will be escorted to your rooms. Anyone who refuses to go to sleep will be put to sleep - permanently. Any horseplay or rule-breaking will result in another week of work. I don't expect to be seeing any of those problems. Isn't that right, Airdramon?" He turned to a blue dragon Digimon with a skull helmet, orange wings, and no legs. His eyes seemed dark and fathomless, as though he had no will to live. The poor creature nodded in reply.

"Good," said Zhuqiaomon. He lowered his fiery head, and for a moment it seemed like his eyes were on everyone. "We should get along just fine."

This reminded Hiamon of a surly English teacher he had back in the fifth grade, who at the beginning of the year said, "We'll get along just fine" - and the year turned out to be the worst he ever had, ending with him just barely passing the class.

Zhuqiaomon laughed, then floated away over the buildings. The crowd of Digimon were silent at his departure, but when he was out of sight a huge conversation between all of them erupted - about the camp, and the guardians. But even though they were out of Zhuqiaomon's eyesight, something told Hiamon that he wasn't far away. He would be back soon, and they would be under his yellow beak and his four red eyes for the next six days.

Suddenly, a clanging of bells interrupted his thoughts. Coming between the cafeteria and the prisoner's rooms was a bug Digimon, ringing a bell with his claws. He looked like a bee with fiery wings. "Curfew!" he yelled. "Curfew! Everyone to bed! New prisoners - come with me! Curfew! Curfew!" As the bells rang, the Digimon scampered to their rooms in fright. The speech seemed to have made an effect on them.

To the group's surprise, the Digimon with the bell glided over to them, clanging his bell all the while. He opened his red wings and smirked at them. "New prisoners?" he inquired in a gravelly voice. "Come with me . . . I'll guide you to your rooms . . ." He swooped over to Angemon and pressed his bee face an inch away from the angel's helmet. "Angemon?" His smirk faded. "You know where to go! Get on with it!"

Angemon nodded with gritted teeth. "Yes, I know," he said, with a slight tinge of anger in his voice. He gave one final look at the children and departed to his room. The insectoid Digimon's eyes followed him into the building across from the cafeteria. When the Team's newfound friend had disappeared inside of it, the smirk on the Digimon's face reappeared. He turned to the group.

"Now, you are under the supervision of one of the Digital World's finest disciplinary camps. We expect no funny business here. If you choose to act up, then you will cease to be." He said this all in a no-nonsense, business-like tone not unlike that of Zhuqiaomon. And even though Hiamon found that the Digimon, who they later identified as Shadramon, was much shorter than he was, he quickly guessed that he was not one to cross. As the dragon wondered who his least favorite person was in the camp - Zhuqiaomon or Shadramon - they were led to the old, run-down building that Hiamon had glimpsed earlier. It was not too far from where they were speaking with Angemon. When he caught sight of it again, strange scents filled his nostrils. Although he could not pinpoint what they were exactly, he found the smell foul: like rotten eggs. Having more powerful smell in his Digimon form did not help, it only made the smell more odious.

"Now, this is where you'll be spending your hours outside of work," explained the Shadramon. "If you fail to comply with the rules, you will be punished severely by . . ." And on and on he went. It reminded Hiamon of the first week of school: Going over rule after rule in ever single class. Turning to Mekanorimon, who was standing attentively by the door of the little building, he wondered if he was told this during the first day at juvenile hall.

That's right, Hiamon thought, while this is only our second time of going to prison, that's Shun's third . . . in less than a month! Must be a record.

Shadramon droned on and on and on, listing stupid rules with laughable consequences - ". . . or you will be boiled in a pot of lava . . .", finally ending with Rule #66, "No throwing ball-shaped objects". At last the insect closed the old book from which he was reading the rules from and climbed the steps of the building's door. It was an awfully lonely place, with one window - a tiny little circular one. The building was only a single story high, and, to Hiamon's displeasure, probably no air conditioning. They were probably going to be the only prisoners staying in this place.

"Blasted key!" exclaimed the insect Digimon as he tried vainly to unlock the door. "Been so damn long that I been here that I can't even remember which key it was . . . aha! Here it is." In his hands he fumbled with a small, brown, dusty key.

"Why has it been so long since you've been here?" asked Reina as he inserted the key into the lock. Exactly the question Hiamon wanted to ask: Why hadn't Shadramon, one of Zhuqiaomon's closest helpers, been inside a main area of the camp for so long?
"'Cause," was the reply, and 'cause' was all. Finally the door opened, and the various large Digimon scrambled to get through it.

"Now, hold on here!" shouted Shadramon, who got their attention by opening two pods on his arms. "How do you expect to control your wild behaviors if you don't even know how to get in a single-file line?! Now, you first, Mr. Robot! Everyone! Get behind this fellow here!" Obediently, they formed a (more or less) single-file line behind Mekanorimon, who get behind Shadramon as he opened the heavy door for them.

"Now you may get in," sighed the Shadramon with the air of a kindergarten teacher who had just calmed down her students. And so they were about to get in, until Shun conveniently found a black camera-like object, attached to the entrance wall. Coming from it were long, dark wires that seemed never to end.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Move!" The kindergarten teacher was now trying to get them to move. Apparently both Shadramon and Shun's group members were not patient.

"What's that?" Shun asked, pointing to the strange object on the wall.

"Huh?" said Shadramon, looking confused, then smiling grimly. "Oh no, we can't afford to put a camera in every room. You see, this camp was founded about ten years ago . . ." It did not take Hiamon long to figure out what he was about to say. ". . . During the time of the Slaughters. The guardians allowed King Piedmon and King Daemon to use their land for the death camps. They built all sorts of buildings like these and put the humans in them. And then . . ." He smiled at the objects. Patting one with his armored hand, he continued, "Yep, these are Anti-Digital Destroyers. Non-digital entities are placed in here, then these are turned on . . ." To their horror, he pressed a black button on the Destroyer. A terrible swooshing noise filled the room, blowing chilly air down their spines. Black, white, and purple lines appeared, going from one end of the room to the next. For a moment, the room looked like one giant grid.

With an unscrupulous grin, Shadramon stepped into the changed room and looked quite relaxed in the extreme cold. "Don't worry," he told them. "It won't hurt you. But if a non-digital being stepped in here . . . ZAP! Instant human killer, saves time and money. Come on, step inside . . . feels good!" He beckoned for Mekanorimon. Needless to say, he wasn't the least excited about stepping into a chamber that could very well delete him. He hesitated.

"Come on!" Shadramon shouted. Now it was no longer a request, but a command. Again, Mekanorimon, who was closest to the door, hesitated - while the rest of the group panicked. If the Anti-Digital Destroyer did kill Mekanorimon, not only would they lose a friend - but also their own lives. Shadramon would be very suspicious if the device deleted Mekanorimon when it only deleted humans and other non-digital beings.

With stupendous courage, the robot Digimon slowly stepped into the small room. The rest of the group watched in suspense as their friend placed two metal feet onto the hard wooden floor.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" said an unknowing Shadramon. Mekanorimon made a buzzing sound, having no head to nod. Amazingly, he had survived.

The sighs of relief from the Genesis Team were almost as loud as the air coming from the chamber. But the effect of the cool air must've worn off, for Shadramon turned it off a few seconds later.

"Now you know why I haven't been here in a while," he said, sweeping past the children. "Not a very popular place to spend the night. Digimon are afraid of sleeping here . . . bunch of idiots, if you ask me. But the camp is full now . . . we usually don't get this many prisoners. Bunch of people breaking the law now, thinking they're above King Daemon's petty rules. Anyway, here's the key." After searching under his armor, he retrieved a black key and a small pamphlet. To Mikemon he gave it.

Now on the ground, Shadramon continued to speak, but in a more business-like tone. "All these rules that I have described before you apply here. Although it looks small, this place is actually quite roomy." He turned away from them and looked back at the main building. "I must be going now. Good-night, and take care."

"Bye!" they all said to the insect Digimon, but only when he was out of eyesight did they enter the little building.

"Brr! It's freezing in here!" complained Suraiimon, the last one to enter the room. She shut the door behind her with her tail. "And I've got a heavy coat of fur!" The door firmly shut behind her, she transformed back into a human, much to Kibamon's alarm.

"No! What are you doing!?" he cried, finding a towel to cover up the single window. "If they see you -"

"Oh, don't be so overprotective," said Reina, brushing back her long brown hair. "You sound like my mom."
Kibamon paced back and forth in the small room. "But what if there's a camera? There must be a camera, so guys like Shadramon can make sure we're not doing anything funny!"

"No, there's not," assured a human Yuka, sitting cozily in a big green chair in the middle of the room, reading a pamphlet. "Shadramon said there wasn't one. He said they couldn't afford it."
"Oh, that's bull!" exclaimed the snow leopard. "This camp is run by the Digital Guardians - they probably have entire rooms full of money. And besides, why would you believe Shadramon?"

"You can look for a camera if you want," replied Yuka, without looking up, "but you won't find anything." Kibamon grumbled, but for comfort's sake he transformed back into a human. Through familiar eyes he saw that the room they were in was very dark. The only light came from the single window and some candles, including one on an end table which allowed Yuka to read. He let out a loud yawn.

"I'm going to bed," he declared, not having the slightest inclination to search for a hidden camera. Now that he succumbed to sleepiness, his mind became foggy and unwilling to work out problems - except for the problem that there was nothing to sleep on. "This is going to be a long night," he said in a growl more intimidating than Kibamon's.

"There may be something in here," said Takumi, grasping the doorknob of a closet in the left corner of the room. To his surprise, there was something in there, and in seconds it had spilled out over him. He found it quite hard to get out from under the mountain of blankets, pillows, and sheets. He emerged with a grin on his face. "Hey! Pillows!" he exclaimed, before tripping on a blanket and nearly falling on top of a candle.

"Hard pillows," muttered Reina in displeasure.

"Aw, be happy with what you have," groaned Shun, who was already settling down to go to sleep. "Good night." The others followed his example, with the exception of Takumi and Yuka. The latter remained in her chair, reading the pamphlet with interest. The former walked around the room in a clumsy manner, examining the smallest details. It disturbed him that the others were sleeping peacefully in a room where many humans had met their demise. He wondered if this room was the last place his father had stayed . . . the thought frightened him. He checked the door. It was locked, but he knew the most powerful Digimon wouldn't think to use it.

Perhaps the most eerie thing in the room was the Anti-Digital Destroyer. Everyone had their own theories as to why Shun had survived the deadly machine. The boy's own theory was probably the most accurate: Because he was infused with Mekanorimon's data, the device couldn't delete him because he was not completely human. Reina suggested that the machine, do to its age, had not been working properly, while Ryota believed that he wasn't deleted because, at the time, Shun had not been in human form. Perhaps it was a combination of these things, and, maybe it was none of them. All Takumi knew was that as long as it was present in the room, he would not enjoy his stay. He looked from the black box to the empty blanket on the floor, spread out just for him. Not wishing to turn down this invitation, he happily sank onto his pillow and under his sheets, Shun sound asleep next to him. The room, much like the outside, was very cold, but Takumi would not let that stop him from sleeping peacefully.

Yuka remained awake, still reading the pamphlet without the slightest disturbance.

"She's an odd girl," thought Takumi as he closed his eyes. Six minutes later he was asleep.

* * *

Takumi's dreams that night were wild and strange, but when he woke up some time later he could not remember them. No matter, for the next few minutes were even wilder At least fifteen minutes had passed since he had fallen asleep, for Yuka was no longer in her chair. But in reality a much greater time had elapsed, and to Takumi's knowledge he was the only one awake. The first thing that stood out was that it was very dark inside - the darkest that Takumi had ever seen in the Digital World. The last of the candles had gone out. It was eerie, being the only one awake - he felt so alone, as if the others had gone to some far-away place.

SQUAWK!

Takumi was up in a heartbeat - which for Takumi was now a thousand times a minute. That'll get the others awake, he thought, almost hoping for another loud sound. But to his disappointment, the others - who he could not see - did not budge. Alone, he crept to the covered-up window, the only source of light. He carelessly stripped off the towel that Ryota used to cover the window and threw it away. His eyes bulging with anticipation, he pressed his nose to the window and looked to see where the sound may have come from. Outside, he saw the buildings, cloaked in darkness.

SQUAWK!

From out of the main building for prisoners came a red streak, which zipped up into the sky almost as quickly as it had came. Then there came moans, shouts, and screams. Then all was silent. Not stopping to blink, Takumi continued to watch, but it was almost as though the sounds had never been uttered. Had he imagined it all? After all, he was, now that he thought about it, half-asleep. He waited a few more moments, but nothing more happened. Growing tired and desperate to go back to sleep, he gave in to his desires and sank back into his pillow. For the rest of the night, he was not disturbed by any more strange sounds, and his dreams were peaceful. But outside the room, outside the camp, other things were not.

Next time on Digimon Genesis!

The Genesis Team continues their term at Purification Camp, only to find that some of their fellow prisoners are mysteriously disappearing. It's up to them to unravel the mystery of:

THE INSANITY OF PHELESMON

"We have to protect Angemon," Reina decided. "He's our friend, and if he's going, we're going too!"

Well, stay tuned for the next chapter, and sorry for not getting this one out quickly. But I promise, promise, promise that the next chapters will be out quickly! I want them all to arrive at Daemon's Palace by 2004. As always, please read and review - they're needed! So just click that little button down there, and give me your thoughts! I can't ever get enough of them.