Digital Shuffle
by famirad
Disclaimer: Don't own Digimon Tamers
Author's Note: A side story, set in the past with some of the past Chosen Children. Decided to do a Side Story since I'm rusty and wanted to ease back in. Thanks for being patient!
Regarding this side story: it won't just be from one character's POV like the past ones. It focuses on Jyou, Gomamon, Mimi, and Palmon. Will jump back to the Athmon/Taomon fight after this Side Story (planned to be 2 parts).
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Side Story Jyou & Mimi: Cautionary Tale of the Two Generals [Part 1]
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HUMAN PROXIMITY ADVISORY: THE TWO GENERALS SIGHTED
- - - Danger Class: Human - - -
To partner with a HUMAN is to invite destruction and despair. A HUMAN's partner enslaves themselves and others!
This is known!
HUMANS cause countless deletions. They inject viruses, Trojans, and malware through an endless assault on our Digital World and yet we prevail. Yet we drive them back. We stand strong, friends!
Remember File Island!
If you see a HUMAN, please do not engage for your own safety.
- - - BEWARE! ! ! - - -
Be on the lookout for 2 HUMAN WAR CRIMINALS called "The Two Generals". Unfortunately, they are confirmed to be traveling in this Zone. The Council could use the community's assistance in tracking these threats down. They may have additional Digimon unwillingly pulled into their cause. The Two Generals are anarchists responsible for the sacking of StorageBlue Canyon, RAM 2 Village's razing, and the ghosting of an Archive. It is suspected that the missing Archive 1.2 Digimon have been cruelly deleted by the Two Generals. The Two Generals operate together as a unit.
Bounties are issued for these violent war criminals, described as:
GENERAL 01 – Male HUMAN w/ blue hair, white and blue clothes, and glasses: 4 limbs, 1 head. No claws/tails/wings. Pink hide. Blue fur on head. Dark brown eyes w/ white outline. Marked intelligent and highly paranoid. Shows skills in logistics, intelligence gathering and test-taking. No armor or extra limbs.
Has enslaved a Gomamon.
alert("FLAGGED FOR SALVATION: GOMAMON");
alert("FLAGGED FOR DELETION: [ HUMAN 'jyou]");
GENERAL 02 – Female HUMAN w/ pink clothes and pink hat: 4 limbs, 1 head. Light brown fur on head. No claws/tails/wings. Pink hide. Light brown eyes w/ white outline. Marked less intelligent than General 1 but a larger threat than the male due to her Voice's influence range. She is charismatic/especially skilled at Digimon recruitment.
Has enslaved a Palmon.
alert("FLAGGED FOR SALVATION: PALMON");
alert("FLAGGED FOR DELETION: [ HUMAN 'mimi']");
Exercise extreme caution around the Two Generals!
- - - HUMAN FACTS - - -
1). HUMANS look harmless but do not be swayed by their insidious tactics!
2). HUMANS bring unknown infections to your house, to your village and your cities!
3). HUMANS corrupt! They brainwash those around them, given enough exposure. Do not let them! Limit proximity.
4). HUMANS corrupt through their Voice. Muzzling a human is temporarily effective until Council containment units arrive.
5). HUMANS are slavers. While you may be tempted to do your civic duty and rescue their Digimon slaves, do not try this. The Council will do it for you. Rest assured that we can rehabilitate any enslaved Digimon and reintroduce them into society. Fear not, they will be saved! No Digimon will be lost to HUMANITY'S corruption!
- - - DID YOU KNOW? - - -
HUMANS come from another world, very different from ours. They exist in filthy, crowded ultra-Hives. This means there are countless HUMANS slavering at a chance to invade our paradise! Luckily, these creatures are by nature cowardly, slow-witted, and weak on their own. They cannot fight without brainwashing a slave army to use as their shields. They only send their best scouts and it has been determined that they won't dare send more if they detect the Digital World's true strength. We will show them that our World isn't for the taking!
- - - YOU ARE SAFE IN COUNCIL HANDS - - -
If you see a HUMAN, report to the nearest Council forces member. They will be happy to assist! The Council can relocate you and your loved ones, if necessary, to a Zone of your choosing that is rated HUMAN-free.
If you have young Digimon who need help understanding the current HUMAN threat, please read this email attachment to them. It is a cautionary tale for younger Digimon, with age-appropriate artwork, titled "Freeing Agumon and Primary Village: the Defeat of Dragon Tyrant Taichi".
We are invincible as one!
Signed, with the infernal blessing of the noble Sovereign Zhuquiomon,
VAJRAMON
- Written/produced by Deva-Vajramon
- Edited by Deva-Pajramon
- Illustrations by Makuramon
Circulated thanks to our volunteers' efforts. We thank you, heroes!
WHEN: ? ? ? years ago
WHERE: Digital World
"They're calling us the Two Generals? Don't make me laugh!"
Jyou Kido had that pinched, sour look Mimi always thought would get stuck that way if he wasn't careful. Jyou called it his worried face. Gomamon, giggling, said it really was his I-don't-want-to-be-a-downer-but-I-will-anyway face. That one got a startled laugh from Jyou, a short bark that surprised him as much as anyone else. Jyou even found himself starting to smile – small, but there – before he caught himself and the scowl came back. Poor guy looked older than he actually was. Jyou paced for a bit. Paced some more. Then he planted balled fists against his hips, as if that suddenly made him look like the grown-up in the room.
Maybe now wasn't the time to point out his new stress lines.
"Well, we have been super stars!" Mimi said. She crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her chin defiantly. "No point denying it."
Gomamon chimed in. "C'mon, Jyou! We've got this!"
Mimi shot Gomamon a grateful look. The Digimon beamed back.
It'd been months since they had any contact with the others. Months of silence, of hurt, of...okay, she'd admit it. She was scared. So? Everyone was! All they had were the rumors. Taichi, Yamato...they didn't want to talk about the rumors about those two. She still hoped they weren't true. Last she heard from Sora, Koushiro and Takeru was that they were going west, that maybe they'd make contact with Yamato. The idea of not being able to go back home with all the other kids was a thought she didn't think she could manage without breaking down into tears.
Today, though. This week she decided she'd focus on what they had, and they could always wing the rest. That's what she did best, right? Live in the now?
That's all we have.
Mimi reached down to tangle her fingers between Palmon's vines. "Okay, since we're the big bad Two Generals, we should act like it! Look like it! We have a bunch of friends out there. Not everyone in the Digital World is with the Council."
"They might as well be," Jyou muttered under his breath.
"What?"
"Never mind," he adjusted his glasses. "But you're right about one thing: we need to change our look."
Mimi opened her mouth to argue and then snapped it shut, taken aback. Jyou agreeing with her wasn't...what? Huh?! Palmon made a soft, amused sound next to her, pleasant like the whisper of autumn leaves, and she asked the question for her partner.
"What's wrong with how we look?"
Jyou shook his head. "Not you. Or Gomamon. Us humans. Look at us: we stick out! We're walking targets!"
Mimi's hand came up to touch her cowboy hat. The pink was scuffed, getting a little frayed on the edges after everything they'd been through, but still in one piece. Miraculously. She'd somehow been able to cling to it even after all this time. Pulling it off her head, Mimi fiddled with the brim, fingers playing against the edges as if suddenly aware of her...human-ness, she guessed. It hit her how soft both of them were: no body armor or claws or cannons or swords, nothing that the Digimon had. Maybe they...did look weak. Maybe...
Biting her lower lip for a second, Mimi's face fell. The beginnings of tears burned against her lashes. Her lip trembled.
Palmon squeezed her hand.
When Mimi looked up, she had a bright smile back on:
"Don't worry. Me and Palmon, we'll fix that!"
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"Palmon, it's beautiful!"
The Rookie couldn't quite blush like a human, but she made a good effort to. She thought she could feel the water in her veins warming and maybe she could imagine the green skin of her cheeks turning pink.
Holding up the breastplate, she gave it a wriggle: chain mail jangled, and, she had to admit, it really did sound intimidating. Sitting across from her, with a lap full of cloth and scraps of metal and driftwood almost as hard as Digizoid, Mimi clapped, her hands clasping together like it was all she could do to contain her excitement. Oh, Mimi. Palmon had always loved that about her partner. That she was so - so open and brave, so eager to jump in.
"This'll make even Jyou look stunning. ...okay, maybe not stunning, but scary!" Mimi reached out and took the breastplate, squinting at it with the expert eye of someone who breathed pure fashion.
While Mimi inspected her work, Palmon bustled around their hideout. The town they'd reached was small, a small collection of huts and coastal cottages lead by a Mojyamon who was apparently the village elder. Sunset Drop had Rookies and a grand total of two Champions who were only interested in fishing for lost floppy disks. The biggest gossip? Fishing up an actual USB drive. Now that got the whole town in a tizzy! The good news was they didn't care about the Council's edicts and they certainly didn't care about blabbing about some new arrivals. The Council email blasts were just spam, crumpled and tossed. Council restrictions bothered these villagers. They wanted things to be the way they used to, safe but not boring. Having a few humans – battle-hardened and well-traveled – was a plus. Most of the village seemed to be interested in their stories, especially Gomamon's spin on their adventures.
The two Generals and their partners were, after all, the most interesting thing to happen to this village in a long, long time.
So here they were in Sunset Drop, sitting in a hut overlooking the sparkling sea. Waves lapped at the shore, the dull roar of water hitting rocks and old bits of machinery lodged in the sand turning into a soothing lullaby. It was almost possible to forget about everything. Palmon came back with one of the helmets in her paws, her vines wrapped around it as if it was fragile. After all, this was Mimi's helmet. It had to be super special.
Palmon plopped down next to Mimi, her knee bumping against her partner's longer, gangly one that her ripped skirt couldn't hide. By now she'd gotten used to how lanky (and bony!) humans were compared to the average Digimon.
"I'll run this past Gomamon, but adding some fur or tusks and oooooh my gosh - !" Mimi gasped. Inspiration hit like lightning: " - Those glowing neon plants from the beach! Those would so complete Jyou's look! We'll line them here and here (maybe even here), and he'll look like the Divermon King!"
Palmon giggled. "Mimi!"
Mimi set Jyou's armor-in-progress to the side, reaching for the helmet Palmon held out. She stuck it on her head and gave it a shake, as if she was in some fancy shampoo commercial. The helmet didn't fly off.
"Perfect."
"Maybe we could add more…." Palmon hesitated. Mimi always said she liked "fashionable layers", whatever that meant in human-speak. It did sound better than saying more armor to cover those fragile human bits. "- Layers! Armored, just like the prototypes we've been making. Each one could look different!"
"Like...different outfits?" Mimi's faced scrunched – she was, Palmon noticed, doing that subconscious little nose crinkle that got even Jyou to sit up straight. Jyou's face, she had also noticed, sometimes tended to flush red around Mimi. "So it's harder to pick us out of the crowd? Like disguises."
Palmon paused, then nodded.
Mimi's nose crinkled a little bit more. If Jyou was here, Palmon imagined even his ears would be red from all that blushing.
"I love it!"
Now Palmon was sure she was blushing. Warm, tingling from her finger-vines and feet, rising as if she could float off into the clouds? Mimi's smile was bright enough to be blinding! The human reached up to pull the helmet off her head, pointing at areas here and there. There, she would like something...elegant but – the but! was important – also inspiring. A horn or vine or a hardened leaf, whatever Palmon thought would like fitting for a "General'. After all, they had to look intimidating. Like these Two Generals. But she'd also like to be able to remove pieces here and there. Sometimes less could be more in fashion, Mimi said as she modeled every piece of armor, approving some and sending others back to the drawing board.
It was only when the moon was high in the sky, glowing with digital lines flickering across its surface, that Palmon stopped handing Mimi prototypes to try on.
"What's wrong? Are we out?"
"Don't humans have to eat too?" Palmon stood straighter. She didn't have those backbones she heard the humans talking about, but she could at least look a little taller if she had to. Mimi hadn't eaten all day. If it was up to her, she was sure the human would keep on sewing and gluing things together until she fell asleep over all that fabric.
"Did someone say food?"
Another Digimon poked a head into the hut. One of the villagers hosting them, this particular Bearmon was a little taller than Palmon, and when he smiled, he revealed a muzzle with some impressive fangs. He didn't seem to notice the way Mimi flinched a little at seeing them or that Palmon had, without thinking, stepped protectively in front of her partner. She hadn't even realized she did it at first. It's just…these days, it was hard not be on their guard. These days, File Island looked like a vacation.
"Hi! Sorry, I know, I know, I'm barging in!" Bearmon sheepishly waved a paw, the hut's light catching against deep purple belts wound through the Rookie's fur and claws. "But I thought you might all be hungry! Whipped up some of my fish buns and blue bean custard pies. They're world famous, you know."
Mimi hid a smile. Bearmon admitted earlier that he hadn't ever been to the next closest village – he even sounded proud of it. "World famous, you say?"
"Yeah! Ask anyone. They'll tell you Sunset Drop's Bearmon is the Digimon to go to if you want delicious food to knock your pants off."
Palmon hesitated. Mimi was her partner. And as far as she could tell, Sunset Drop was a safe village, without anyone from the Council snooping around for some humans. This really was out in the middle of nowhere and every Digimon they'd met in the village seemed either neutral to their story or interested. It happened, sometimes, and she noticed it happened more when Mimi did most of the talking. Maybe Bearmon was like that, one of those Digimon who might want to join them…?
"Mimi, Bearmon and me will take a few bites while you clean up. Thanks!" Palmon said, and hoped Mimi would get where she was going.
It'd been a long time since File Island. Gone were the days when they could trust something as simple as a free dinner.
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The sea salt breeze was doing wonders for Jyou's stress levels.
Now, Gomamon didn't consider himself a human expert. After all, his exposure to humans was limited to, well, seven kids. Mostly Jyou and Mimi. But he did consider himself an expert on his human and he could tell you right now that Jyou looked better than he had in weeks. Way, way less likely to pop a vein! Hadn't looked like he was gonna hyperventilate for days now! If you asked him, it was a huge improvement.
Then again, Jyou wasn't Jyou if he wasn't worrying.
Gomamon waddled along the quay, his flippers slapping against wood and the occasional stubborn barnacle. He figured Jyou had retreated to his new favorite spot in Sunset Drop: the very end of the peninsula, a cliff overlooking the ocean and where water met sky at that sharp line of deep blue infinity. Jyou had looked really good in that new armor, he had to admit. Almost fierce. Definitely not human. But Jyou had wandered off as Mimi and Palmon was talking about adjustments to account for wedgies (supposed to be "the worst"?), and Gomamon knew that Jyou was...thinking. He did that. A lot.
Some could say it was sulking. Considering everything, Gomamon thought he was qualified for at least a few good sulks.
Jyou was right where he thought, sitting on the coral bench overlooking the sea, legs kicking. He was looking down instead of at the spectacular sunset before him, and Gomamon knew he was looking at that stupid propaganda email even before he could see his hands. The group all been separated and yeah, okay, so maybe things got rough. Still were rough. But until now, they hadn't really known for sure what happened to the other kids. Jyou's face had gone Bakamon-white as soon as he got to the end of that stupid Council email blast.
"Jyou?"
The boy shook his head, his hands gripping the email so hard his knuckles had gone pale. Emails like these were an eye-catching neon red and yellow, flat but flexible. Jyou had said that it was like a "newspaper" and that emails didn't look like that where he came from. Emails didn't glow in your hands, they only showed up on screens in the Human World. Really weird to imagine but hey, you had to humor humans sometimes about their customs or they got all nervous and jittery. Gomamon stopped at his partner's feet, looking up at him, and sighed.
"Looking at it again, huh?"
Jyou's lips parted as if he was going to argue, and then his shoulders drooped. "So? I'm looking it over again. Maybe there's other intel in here."
Gomamon didn't speak up at first, sensing his human had more to say between the two of them and the distant roar of the waves.
"I don't know what Mimi thinks, but this email," Jyou waved it, the sheet flapping like a pathetic plastic flag, "says enough! Last we saw Taichi, he was heading to Primary Village with Metal Greymon. Now this? You know he couldn't keep his mouth shut and his head down if his life depended on it! Look where it got him! I told him the Village could take care of itself once we were long gone but did he listen?"
Jyou glanced down at the email. It'd been folded, balled up as if he wanted to throw it away, and then changed his mind and carefully flattened it. Over and over.
"Best case scenario, Taichi was separated from Metal Greymon. Or he got hurt and they didn't find him when they nabbed Agumon. Worst case...well, the email covers it, Gomamon. He could be dead! And this email's old! Look at the date! They even had time to draw a comic about it!"
He flipped around the email, as if it was Gomamon's first time seeing it. He pretended to read again before he reached up with a flipper, pulling it gently down so he could peer over it at Jyou. From here, he could see the end of the email: Jyou had, in fact, looked at the attachment, artist-drawn pictures and all. He guessed maybe they showed what (might) have happened to Taichi and Metal Greymon. Explained why Jyou was riled up again. Reading "Freeing Agumon and Primary Village: the Defeat of Dragon Tyrant Taichi", complete with cute little pastel jpgs and cartoony gifs, couldn't be easy. Probably didn't help that this Makuramon was actually kinda, well, good at the whole art thing.
Gomamon decided not to add that to the conversation.
"Jyou? Maybe there's more in the email."
"Like?"
"Your, um…crimes. You aren't that intense, y'know?"
Jyou frowned, as if he wanted to argue he could be that intense if he really wanted to. He reached up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, scooting over so Gomamon could hop up onto the bench next to him.
"Archive...what Archive? 1.0 was locked. 1.1 was closed for that Update NOW Festival. We did see Archive 1.2..."
Gomamon settled next to Jyou, enjoying the human's body heat. Jyou scanned through the email again, eyes flicking back and forth, with an intensity that Mimi said was his "exams mode activating", as if that explained everything. After a second, he felt his partner stiffen next to him.
"They lied!" Jyou hissed between his teeth. "The Council doesn't want to admit all those Archive Digimon joined us!"
Now Jyou switched gears. Going from glum to laser focused was one of those great things about him. He had this knack about it, and maybe it was because he was older than the other kids. Or maybe it was because he was just Jyou and he was irreplaceable. Either way, Gomamon didn't care. Jyou was Jyou and he was confident his human could get handle on this. Jyou leaned forward, shoulders hunching as if he was studying over a desk back in Odaiba.
"Those Archive Digimon went to look with Sora and Koushiro when we split up. Cleaned out the place and took whatever they could carry if they thought it could help our friends," Jyou muttered. He sometimes did that, the whole muttering thing. It was annoying at first, but Gomamon had to admit he'd missed it. He liked it when Jyou was muttering and working on something instead of staring out at the ocean's horizon, as if he could lose himself in it. A silent, not nervous, squirelly Jyou? Well, it made him feel all nervous!
"It'd look really bad if news got out that all those free Digimon were helping Generals – us kids," Jyou said, almost defensively, as if he didn't want to accept the whole General title. "They're saying we 'control' by our Voices, but those Digimon wouldn't be near a human to keep them enslaved, following the propaganda email's logic. And I remember Archive 1.2. We left that place without a scratch! The Council doesn't want to admit other Digimon could side with us all on their own. They're scared."
And now he sounded as scary-intense those Council propaganda said he was. Gomamon found himself grinning, his mohawk bristling with pride. He knew Jyou had it in him! The guy just had to focus and buck up and believe in himself while he was also busy freaking out about everyone else around him.
"Right? You and Mimi turned that Archive into a ghost town without lifting a finger," Gomamon added. "Mimi sweet-talked past the receptionist and the security. You did the rest, impressed the Archive Director. Got him to join us. We're not alone."
Jyou snorted. "Except those Archive Digimon must've joined Sora and Koushiro by now, so, technically, we are alone."
Gomamon tilted his head, nudging Jyou with an elbow. "C'mon. You worked with less."
Jyou heaved a sigh. He looked up, his whole body slumped as if he could feel the Digital World pressing down on his shoulders, and it seemed as if he finally registered the ocean before him: the white chop of the waves as they curled in on themselves, the kelp rippling green and brown under the churning surface. The glowing dots of the villager's skiffs as they danced across the sea, casting nets for fish and floppy discs. Just Digimon – just life – going about its business. None of them were gunning for human blood. Bearmon had even peered at the email, laughed, shrugged, and then asked if the big bad Human World had a cure for rusty pans. Looking out at this alien ocean, this Digital ocean, Jyou finally let his racing thoughts, his worries and fears, fly away for a few seconds. He just...stopped. Listened. Let his eyes drift shut. Enjoyed the feeling of Gomamon leaning against his thigh, patient and there.
"Don't know if that could work again with this village or others. But I wanted – want – to be a doctor," Jyou shook his head, reaching up, pulling off his glasses to clean them and squinting at the lens. Oh, right. Still all scratched up on one side. Optometrists weren't exactly easy to find in the Digital World. "Maybe I could learn to help Digimon like that? Maybe other Digimon would see humans aren't a threat if we're helping them. I bet they don't have many doctors as small as me. Means I could do more delicate work. Maybe see something a Digimon wouldn't. We could help Digimon and show we're not these war criminals."
Gomamon thought about it, then nodded, reaching up to scratch his muzzle with a black claw-tip. "Works for me. Think a lot of other Digimon would like it too. Would be nice not to fight all the time."
Jyou seemed to be warming to the idea. He'd stopped fidgeting with the Council email sheet crumpled between his fingers.
"Are you okay with this? I might need to ask you to stand in as my..." Jyou paused. "My medical assistant."
"You really gotta ask?"
Jyou's shoulders lifted. His perpetual frown lifted into one of those rare almost-smiles. "I didn't want to assume, Gomamon. I already asked a lot of you coming this far."
Gomamon slapped Jyou's knee with a flipper, just enough to sting a little. "Really? I got your back! You're a fancy 'General' now, so I gotta make you look good! You need a second-in-command and I'm calling dibs before Mimi or Palmon. Maybe I want to be famous too."
"Gomamon…."
He could see that look on Jyou's face, half between laughing and wanting to cry. Gomamon hopped down from the bench, back to his human.
"Since I'm your second, you're gonna need to show me the ropes."
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Jyou really did seem serious about this "Digimon Doctor" thing!
Mimi was impressed. A few weeks in and Sunset Drop's villagers flipped from "meh" about their new tourists to making excuses to talk to them.
Jyou was busy with splinter removal and fang cleanings, and Mimi...well, maybe she didn't want to get left behind. If Jyou could shine, so could she! While Jyou was busy being the village healer, Mimi got to talking with the rest of the village. Making new friends. Bearmon was happy to introduce her, if she promised to trade Earth recipes with him (a more than honest trade, Bearmon insisted, considering he was the best chef in Sunset Drop), and by the end of the month, Mimi knew almost everyone in the village. She even signed an autograph for Mojyamon, who cackled and hobbled away clutching it to his furry chest.
Today was a little different. Today Bearmon came and for once he wasn't offering food to convince her that he was the best of the best.
"I heard you're all leaving," Bearmon sat down in front of her, cross-legged, the Rookie's claws resting on each knee. "That's not true, right? We love having you here! You wouldn't leave us just like that, would you?"
Mimi set down the fabric she was cutting, scissors clicking shut. She had to think fast on her feet and, thankfully because she wasn't Jyou, she didn't stutter. "Bearmon, you spoiled us rotten. Everyone has. But you saw yesterday's email: it's better if we move on."
Bearmon's snout quivered. His black nose looked wet, as if he was trying not to sniffle, big silver eyes shining as his gaze dropped.
"None of us would report you to the Council…."
"I know, but it's better this way. If we stay too long, they'll just say I used a Voice to enslave you."
Bearmon sat there, playing with the fibers of the rug they both sat on, winding some thread around a claw. "Well, couldn't I come with? Promise I won't slow you guys down and you could use a good cook."
"It's safer here -"
"I'm not the only one, Mimi!" Bearmon blurted.
Mimi blinked. "What?"
Still looking down, almost guiltily, Bearmon twirled the rough thread around his claw again. "I'm not the only one who wants to join you. We've been talking with Mojyamon! You spent all month telling us about your adventures. About your super cool Human World. A lot of us here want to come and see it too!"
"We haven't found a way back yet."
"Maybe we'll find it with you. More eyes on the problem, yeah?"
Mimi sat there silently nibbling at her bottom lip. Truth is, they could use more friends, just like she told Jyou. And they couldn't stay at Sunset Drop forever. Eventually they'd need to start looking for the others and maybe, just maybe, find a way home. Maybe they could find out if Taichi, if he really was – she cut that thought off, feeling her throat close up at the thought of "what if?". Bearmon finally looked up from the rug, eyes bright with hope.
"Okay. Maybe!" Mimi held up a finger, seeing the Rookie about to interrupt. "I'll run it past Jyou, Gomamon and Palmon. Agreed?"
"Agreed!"
"What if there's fighting? Council forces?"
Bearmon shrugged. "We defend ourselves. You could show us how, you're the Two Generals!"
Oh dear.
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WHEN: 2 weeks after leaving Sunset Drop
WHERE: Digital World
"Another email?"
Jeez, it was hot. His sweat was sweating.
Jyou pushed his helmet's glowing visor up, pulling away the scarf covering his lower face. Sucking in a breath of fresh air, he had to wait for the fog to fade from his glasses. Mimi said he looked "fierce and intimidating" and Gomamon had shrugged it off as "well, you don't look as human": he guessed that meant their armor was working. Problem was, it was uncomfortable. Stuffy. Did he say claustrophobic? Yeah, it was also claustrophobic, but wearing it meant they got less weird stares whenever they ran across a village or a town. Not every place they went to was like Sunset Drop, full of Digimon who hadn't bought into the Council's propaganda, and he swore there were more emails plastered up than before. Some of them even had photos. Jyou wasn't sure how they got those in the first place, but at least they were out of date. Blurry. No new photos of their disguises. A small, very small, whew.
Bearmon came trotting up with the new Council email, unfurling it with a flourish. "Behold, my Generals!"
Gomamon snickered behind his flipper.
"The first part's about the same, so I won't read that," Bearmon plopped down in a puff of dust and held up the glowing email as if he was the town crier. "And I'll remember this time to read only the good stuff."
Mimi clapped her hands together, her gauntlets rattling. "You're a doll, Bearmon."
The Rookie beamed and focused on the email. The condensed version, according to Bearmon, was:
HUMAN PROXIMITY ADVISORY: THE TWO GENERALS GHOST ANOTHER VILLAGE
- - - Danger Class: Human - - -
Skipping this part!
- - - BEWARE! ! ! ! - - - (wow, that's a lot of exclamation points!)
Be on the lookout for 2 HUMAN WAR CRIMINALS called "The Two Generals" - same stuff except they – ah, they mentioned Sunset Drop! It says you guys destroyed Sunset Drop! Deleted everything so well that there isn't even a kilobyte of data to cry over. Same with that tasty Good Morning Cafe we stopped at. What's up with that? They're lying!
GENERAL 01 – Jyou, it's you again. You sound impressive here! Aw, you and Gomamon are still flagged for saving/deleting.
GENERAL 02 – Mimi, that's you too! You and Palmon have the same note Jyou and Gomamon (sorry).
- - - HUMAN FACTS - - -
6). They added a number 6. It, uh, says: despite the rumors, HUMANS can NOT be turned into productive members of society. Studies show that even the most basic salvation techniques are useless on any uncivilized HUMAN. They are a lost cause.
(Seems harsh...)
- - - DID YOU KNOW? - - -
Skipping again!
- - - YOU ARE SAFE IN COUNCIL HANDS - - -
Skipping again again!
Oh wow! They added another attachment for the young Digimon. This time it's "Lovely Biyomon and Pursuit of Wind Overlord Sora: Only a Matter of Time".
"And same creators as last time (huh, Makuramon's art looks like it got better). The end," Bearmon finished proudly. "How was that?"
Mimi could see Jyou getting close to blowing a gasket. She quickly jumped in, patting the Rookie on his furry shoulder, her smile strained. "Great, Bearmon! Here, why don't you head back to camp and join the others? We, um, we have General stuff to talk about. Like a group huddle."
"Roger that, ma'am!"
Bearmon rolled up the email, stuffing it through one of his belts, scroll-style. He sketched off his idea of a human salute, bowed deeply, and then wandered back toward the oasis where the rest of the Sunset Drop villagers were resting after the long hike. Jyou managed to keep himself under control until he thought Bearmon was out of earshot. From the look Mimi gave him, he was sure she could see the vein throbbing in his forehead, even with the visor covering it.
"Mimi, they're after Sora and Biyomon now! This is a disaster!"
"Shhh! Keep it down!"
"Don't shhh me, I am keeping it down!"
Gomamon winced. "Maybe keep it even more down."
Jyou sucked in a breath. Held it. Counted to five before he let it out. Deflated, he shook his head, the glowing neon cables hanging from the back of his helmet slithering. "This time it didn't say if Biyomon was captured. Or that Sora was defeated like Taichi. So maybe they're still out there. That's the one piece of good news. But if they're already putting out another kid's book on this, they must be close. Sooner or later it'll be us next! We can't keep this up forever!"
Mimi idly chewed the leather thumb of her gauntlet. Her hair poked out from underneath her own helmet, no longer the beautiful warrior's mane she'd had when they left Sunset Drop, but a tangled, limp mess. And then there was the nail biting. That was a new habit, and it struck Jyou all of a sudden that he'd never realized Mimi picked it up until now. Until now, she'd been worried about chipped nails and where to get Digital sunscreen. Seems like all of this was getting to her too…
"Maybe someone in town might know more?" Mimi sounded hopeful. "What if we could save Sora and Biyomon?"
"Too risky. We all go in together, they'll figure it out."
"That's what the disguises are for!"
"And? We have to eat and sleep sometime, and who knows what surveillance is like."
Mimi's nose crinkled. "We should at least try! They need us!"
Jyou felt his cheek burning and it wasn't from the sun blazing high in the sky. When Mimi looked at him like that, he…
His Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he squeaked: "I'll-I'll do it!"
Palmon and Mimi looked at each other, then at Jyou. "Huh?"
He knew this was a mistake, but it was too late to take it back. Anyway, as the oldest one here, he had to be the volunteer.
"I'll go into town. Scout around. See if I can find out more about our friends. No point in all of us going, that's a strategic mistake waiting to happen," Jyou was speaking quickly now, running over his words as if to convince himself he was really doing this. "Gomamon, you stay here too. They'll be looking for you."
Gomamon's mohawk went stiff with indignation. "You're kidding, right? No way!"
"I'll take a few of our forc – our friends," Jyou had to remind himself that no sir, they weren't a real army just because the Council gave them titles on those stupid emails. "And I can stay in contact with Mimi's Digivice."
"Still not of a fan of this, Jyou."
Jyou shook his head. "I'll make it work," he said, a little surprised his voice had stopped squeaking and cracking. He lowered his visor, pulling up his scarf to cover his mouth and nose again. "Promise. Just give me two days. We'll try it your way, Mimi."
That was a day ago.
Now Jyou wound his way through the market, keeping his head down, peering out at the world through his helmet's dark visor, his nerves so on edge than he could swear anyone could see him shaking. To his left, Bearmon strolled along as if he wasn't next to one of the Digital World's Most Wanted, licking his claws of the glaze dripping from the sweet bun he bought. Leading the way was Sunset Drop's village elder, a grizzled old Mojyamon with beads and colorful pieces of cloth braided into his fur which, somehow, still smelled faintly of sea salt if you got too close. Apparently he was ancient-looking even to the other Digimon here. Often they'd look at him, at the way he was hobbling around on his cane, and they'd give him some space, respectfully parting for the senior citizen. Jyou was convinced that Mojyamon played up the doddering old 'Mon thing when he felt like it. After all, those creaking knees suddenly fixed themselves right up when it was time for Mimi to sing and he wanted to get a front row seat.
Now Mojyamon was staggering along, leaning heavily on his cane. He pretended to wave Jyou forward, a big clawed hand resting on his elbow for support. His eyes peered up at Jyou through a mop of dirty gray fur, glittering and sharp. "Grandson," he creaked. "My knees hurt. Let's sit somewhere."
Jyou leaned in, glad that with the darkened visor over his face, the Digimon streaming around them couldn't see where he was looking. They couldn't see the darting glances, the way Jyou scoped out every Digimon and wondered if he'd pushed his luck. If they'd finally realize he wasn't like them.
His voice dropped to a whisper. "What about that fountain?" He pointed.
Mojyamon shook his head. "Nah! I liked that cantina by the trading bazaar! Mighty fine place for some spiced tea and cookies. Make sure it's the one without the raisins, you know how I hate raisins!"
Jyou nodded as Mojyamon really, really got into character, rambling away just to hear his own voice, going on and on about the heat and the crowds and his knees (oh by the Sovereigns, his old poor knees). They'd covered this before they left. The general plan was to make their way to places where they might pick out gossip. A cafe for breakfast and now lunch. A cantina on the map seemed to be popular. Central location, probably had more up-to-date news than the Council emails. Nothing suspicious. Nothing that would look like a human and his new buddies nosing about the place. Making their way to the trading bazaar, Jyou kept his eyes peeled. Cloth tarps stretched out between buildings, providing precious shade. Wind chimes, metal and cracked wood, swayed in the desert breeze kicking up from the south. Street after street they saw signs of Council activity. More and more fliers copy-pasted all over the place, plastered with those photos of the human kids shimmering, frozen in time. Taichi's had been crossed out. (The X dripped digital confetti every 30 seconds). The others were still out there, although there was a glowing circle around Sora's photo, blinking construction sign yellow.
It took some effort to tear his eyes away.
At least it was a little easier when he began to pick out Council soldiers instead of focusing on the wanted posters: wandering around the town were Digimon here and there with a sash or an armband with that familiar black and gold, sometimes with the insignia of a specific Deva. At least those Digimon he knew to avoid. It was the rest of the town that had Jyou on edge, every nerve frayed. Which eyes would pick apart the disguise? Which loose tongue could mean that they'd end up just like Taichi? His teeth chattered until he grit his jaw so hard his molars ached.
Bearmon was the first to spot the cantina, the banners out front flapping in the wind, faded to pastel from sun exposure.
"I'll get us a spot!" Bearmon rushed for the door, waving.
Jyou followed at a slower pace, pretending to hold Mojyamon up. The truth was that as old as Mojyamon was, he could probably kill him where he stood. Having fantastical Digimon abilities could do that. But he could tell from the ancient Digimon's grip on his elbow that he was relaxing it, treating Jyou as the fragile cargo he felt like sometimes.
"Grandson," Mojyamon creaked. "One of these days, I'll retire to the beach. What then?"
Jyou was proud to say he didn't miss a beat. "I'll join the Council! It's a good, stable job. Easy to make money to send home...Isn't that right, Kiwimon?"
A Kiwimon had been hanging out by the cantina door, sipping at a water bowl laid at her feet. Ice cubes dotted its surface. The black-gold of the Council insignia wrapped around her throat, like a necklace, drew Jyou's eyes as she jerked her bird's head up, startled. She glanced around as if making sure he wasn't talking to else, and then straightened, as if suddenly aware she could be under surveillance. Her loyalty, even on break, could be put to the test.
"Honored Elder and his grandson," Kiwimon managed to compose herself. She bowed low, but not too low – after all, these were clearly tourists. "Definitely! Best decision ever!"
Jyou pretended to stand up straighter. "How come?"
From the way Kiwimon cast a longing glance at her water bowl, she was on break, not here to spout propaganda. Her beak clacked together with a faint air of disappointment.
"The Council takes care of you and yours," she said. "Not just that, but you can earn glory, too!"
Swallowing, Jyou went on. "Glory?"
Kiwimon nodded. "Oh yes! Surely you heard of Wind Overlord Sora?"
"Bad business, that one," Mojyamon nodded sagely. Or maybe he was close to nodding off: the Digimon was so good at acting that Jyou wondered if he really was just dozing off here and there when he could get away with it.
"Very bad business," Kiwimon agreed. "But we've got her on the run, so it's perfectly safe to stay here."
"What about those other hooligans? The other Generals? I don't think my old heart could stand more of those war criminals!"
"Don't worry. The only one we know of is Overlord Sora. You can rest easy that she'll be dealt with soon enough."
Leaning in, Jyou lowered his voice as if he wanted to hide it from his "Grandpa" - no point stressing him out. "Kiwimon, what if I want to join the Council defense force? If I help take down that Wind Overlord, would that prove to the Council that I'm soldier material?"
Kiwimon's voice dropped too. "Maybe. Look, I can't promise anything, but if you really want to help..."
She leaned close, her beak swinging close enough that she could've knocked Jyou's helmet free and revealed him for the human he really was. She whispered a general location, a good luck, kiddo, and then leaned back.
Mojyamon cackled. "What was that? My ears aren't what they used to be, speak up!"
"I was just telling your grandson where to find the recruitment office, Honored Elder," Kiwimon made sure to reach down with her hind-claws and grab her water bowl, determined to get out of here before more potential recruits came at her for advice. "Enjoy our town. It's graded human-free! Take care and stay well."
Jyou waited until Kiwimon took her bowl and was long gone. "That went surprisingly well. Ever heard of the Sandfall Canyon?"
"No. But we can help you find it, young one," Mojyamon paused and then added, the ancient creak of his voice gaining an edge. "Maybe don't take Bearmon with you to this fight. You know how he is: easily distracted. Soft."
Jyou reached up, the clawed end of his gauntlet catching against the armored scarf Mimi made. She'd even made sure to color coordinate it, matching it to the unforgiving desert instead of the tropical paradise they left a month ago. Truth was, he agreed with the old Digimon. Bearmon was young and…yeah. Distracted. Flighty. While Mimi seemed to like him, Jyou couldn't find it in himself to trust that Bearmon wouldn't run at the first sign of actual combat with Council forces.
"Agreed," he said. "C'mon, let's get you under some shade...Grandpa."
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Once Mimi heard the words "Sandfall Canyon", she was already rallying the troops.
By the time Jyou returned, she had every Digimon hard at work, even had everyone packing efficiently as if they were about to travel international. As Jyou entered the oasis, pushing through fronds growing thick under palm trees, he could hear the rumble of voices before he saw them. Above all, he could pick out Mimi's: her voice commanding without realizing it, lilting in a way that made his heart do strange back flips in his chest and his face warm underneath the armor's visor.
"You did it, Jyou!" was the first thing out of Mimi's mouth as soon as she saw him. She rushed up and next thing he knew, her arms were slung around him in a hug that almost bowled the two of them over. "Amazing!"
Jyou went lightheaded. Blaming it on the heat, he froze in place, aware of Mojyamon scooting to the side with a grin almost hidden by his shaggy fur.
Mimi continued her hugging for a few more seconds, Jyou wondering if he was dizzy from lack of oxygen or maybe because he really, really didn't mind one of those world famous hugs she'd mentioned a few times. Apparently she really was a good hugger.
"Oh! Sorry!" Mimi laughed and pulled away, holding Jyou at arms length, hands still on his shoulders. "Was it scary?"
"N-nothing we couldn't handle."
"Knew it. C'mon, we've been getting ready!"
She led him around the camp: a loose string of a few tents and hammocks strung around the sparkling waters of the oasis they called home for the last couple of days. Rows and rows of cloth and ropes strung across the trunks, Rookies and several Champions he didn't remember coming from Sunset Drop milling about, hard at work breaking down the camp so they could get moving. Overhead, the palms crowded them, heavy with fronds rattling faintly against each other. Was it him, or were there more Digimon than when he left?
"Turns out we have fans," Mimi explained. "Can you imagine? Us!"
Jyou lowered his voice. "Do you think they can be trusted?"
"Palmon and Gomamon are keeping tabs," said Mimi. "I trust them."
Trying to shove his surprise to the side, Jyou moved onto the next thing on the table. "So we're really heading to this canyon?"
"Why not? The Council doesn't sound like they know we're here."
He sighed, hands on his hips as he stopped. Mimi turned around. "What's wrong?"
"I think we should split up during this," Jyou said, having to get used to the idea that they really were going through with this – this "operation" or whatever it really was, this whole action hero thing that he still had trouble slotting two ordinary kids into. "Branch out and come at the Council forces from two sides."
"Didn't Kiwimon say there's a lot of Council Digimon to fight?"
"I'm not talking taking them all out. We just need to make sure Sora and Biyomon can escape. Hit them quick and then retreat. It'll throw them off their guard."
After all, he'd seen the emails about them. Remembered all the past Digimon battles. Maybe that'd work in their favor: the Council might assume they'd stick around for a drawn-out fight just like all the past ones. As if it was one big bad after them instead of an entire Zone. This "Wind Overlord Sora" hunting party would be expecting a glorious fight, not hit-and-run tactics.
Mimi wandered a few steps away, reaching up to remove her helmet. Her hair fell free, spilling past her shoulders, shining with the sparkling glints here and there where sand had caught in the tangled strands. He felt his cheeks heating up again as he hurriedly looked down, glad for once that Gomamon wasn't here to tease him. When he glanced up, Mimi had tucked the helmet under her elbow, her armored hand coming up to rake her hair away from her face. She smiled, as if this would all work out.
"I talked with the Digimon here. They sound like they're with us," Mimi said. "We can do this, Jyou."
He had to hide his snort, wondering just how long that would last. Mimi, he found, could be surprisingly persuasive. Maybe they'd get a win for once thanks to surprise on their side and the numbers they had at their back. Maybe for once he could be proven wrong.
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"How's the new armor?"
Togemon flexed to test out the hardened leather straps. "Great, Mimi! I feel like a million kilobytes!"
Mimi laughed as she carefully got onto the saddle. With this, she didn't have to worry about getting knocked out of Togemon's hands – considering they were going to be fighting near what was apparently the deepest canyon in this Zone, she considered the extra security a plus if it meant she wouldn't get knocked free. The saddle came with leather plates, with holes cut into it to allow most of Togemon's spines to poke through. Cinching the strap to keep her legs and hips secured, Mimi leaned forward, patting the saddle.
"Let's go!"
Togemon took off, feet pounding against limestone. According to Jyou, the Council forces were making a move on Sora's location – some place at a fork in Sandfall Canyon, where some famous, glowing purple river split into two. Supposedly it was a Digimon tourist trap. Something about the waters and the shape of the fork itself creating a healing, relaxing presence: the perfect place for someone to fall back to if they were trying to hide out after a battle. Mimi would've loved to visit the place under normal circumstances, but with Sora and Biyomon on the line, she decided it'd be best to shelve it.
Cacti and tilted power-lines dotted the edge of the canyon, with thick scrub growing sage-green and high enough to hide most of their friends. Bearmon had wanted to volunteer, but Jyou and Moyjamon managed to talk him out of it. Whew! Now Mimi liked the Rookie. But even she had to agree that he was...wet behind the ears. He could cook up a mean camp stew to satisfy every Digimon in the oasis, but she had seen his fighting. Okay, fighting attempts. The training dummies, made of cloth and twigs, survived to live another day. Over and over. As Mimi rode on, she had to admit, she was glad that Bearmon finally saw reason.
Togemon came to a stop under the cover of a cacti cluster growing out of each other in perfect 90 degree angles. If she froze in place, she could blend into the background.
"Allomon in place?"
The other Champion in Sunset Drop, Allomon was Moyjamon's adopted son. Formerly "King-of-Fishing-And-Misc Stuff". Looked like Greymon, only with less horns and more teal and feathers. These days Allomon seemed to like doing scouting runs, stretching his legs in a way that a sleepy coastal village life hadn't ever satisfied. Where Bearmon had struggled with combat training, Allomon excelled. He'd been the fastest, the strongest of the Sunset Drop Digimon. Far-sight and a willingness to flex his muscle for the good of his buddies. Great backup, and even Jyou approved.
Considering his epic paranoia, that had to mean something.
"Sounds like it," Togemon's beady eyes squinted, picking out a faint glint in the distance that a human's weaker vision couldn't pick out. "Yeah, he's waiting with his team. Allomon spotted some Council forces too. We're good to make a grand entrance."
Hunkering down against Togemon's saddle, trying to keep her human profile low, Mimi reached up, touching an armored hand to her chest. Breathe. This wasn't their first fight. If they could take down Devimon and free File Island, then they could do this! Jyou and Ikkakumon were here. They even had new friends. This was possible, no matter how iffy Jyou sounded about the plan a few days ago. Striking now was their best chance to make an impression and shock the Council forces into backing down.
This didn't have to be another Primary Village. It didn't have to be like what happened to Taichi and Agumon.
Mimi held on for her life as they burst into motion, lunging out from their cacti-camo's cover. As the frontal attack, they had to be flashy as possible: draw the Council's attention to them by any means necessary and, for a moment, at least, off Sora. Off Jyou. Mimi had added some bells and whistles to Togemon's new armor, covered by leather flaps until her human partner released the safety lock on the saddle. Unlocking the release would unfurl a rainbow of bright streamers with mirror chunks woven into them, designed to catch against light and reflect it back. To be the biggest, shiniest target, too irresistible to ignore.
They had this!
The Council forces Allomon reported were moving both along the ridge and near the bank of the river, its rippling purple. Maybe a hundred. Maybe more. Either way, Mimi was determined to get their attention. With today's armor – minimal, exposing most of her face and hair, to broadcast her as a Human – that familiar pink hat the Council expecting pinned and double-pinned to her head, and Mimi wanted to say they looked like that General 02 all the Council emails warned about.
Togemon went low instead of high. Allomon and his team could hit the cliff-side Council forces. The important thing was to get all Council eyes low, before they remembered to look over their shoulder.
She ducked her head, praying that frayed pink cowboy hat would stay on her head as Togemon suddenly dropped off the cliff's edge. The Digimon curled into a ball before unfurling, feet first, and they'd already dropped far enough that the cliff-face was a sheer wall. Wind whistled, howling a symphony right up against her ears.
"Needle Spray!"
Spines shot out of Togemon where the leather armor didn't cover her hide, hissing away. It was too far to see the individual faces of the Council forces, but Mimi could see the impacts: the needle missiles hit and hit hard, kicking up sprays of dust and, if they were lucky, the bright electric burst of a Digimon being deleted. It wasn't as many as she would've liked, but judging by the panicked shouts and the way the formation turned toward her, she assumed they had their full attention. Good.
Look at us!
Mimi reached down near her thigh and grabbed the armor's leather release. With a ringing pop, streams of cloth unfurled from hidden panels like fireworks. The desert sun winked and glittered off glass shards blooming out around them, winking like stars.
That's it! We're right here!
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"They're really going at it, huh?"
Ikkakumon's voice pitched deeper, with a gravelly undertone that Gomamon didn't have. Jyou could feel his partner's breath between his legs, holding on tight to the saddle that Mimi assured – promised – wouldn't send him splatting into the canyon floor. He assumed she must be right, considering she was taking the same saddle into battle in the flashiest way possible. It had to be safe, right? As safe as you could get riding a giant cactus and a giant walrus, with bounties on your heads?
He hunkered down. Prayed he could still the thunder of his heart trying to escape his ribs, the heat flushing hot against his face thanks to the adrenaline. Last thing Ikkakumon needed was to realize his human was panicking.
"Any sign of Sora or Biyomon?"
Ikkakumon squinted. Listened. Picked up the far sounds of a battle that just sounded like fireworks off in the distance.
"Sounds like they're hitting the main forces at the river fork. There's no – wait."
Jyou's grip on the reins tightened.
"There's the squad Kiwimon mentioned. They've been called forward to check the northern cliff caverns."
Must be were Sora was. He'd hoped all the Council forces would've been distracted by Mimi and Togemon, but that was too good to be true, wasn't it?
"Hold on, Jyou!"
Ikkakumon might not be as quick on his feet as Togemon, but he moved faster than Jyou ever could. He lumbered forward, with powerful lunges of his body that covered a good chunk of ground, rolling almost like the ocean. Jyou kept his own profile low. Compared to Mimi, his own armor was...less. Less flashy. It was even a mix of white fur and gray fronds, meant to blend into Ikkakumon's own fur. Ideally the enemy Digimon wouldn't realize that the two generals were both here, especially with Mimi's flashy, theatrical entrance. As Ikkakumon moved along the cliff edge, Jyou risked peeking over his partner's shoulder. The attack on the Council forces was too far to hear anything specific, but the panicked shouts said plenty. Caught by surprise and yet every Digimon there must be thinking about the bounty on General 02's head. Explosions bloomed across the towering walls in a deadly trail, trying to follow the path of sparkling mirrors and cloth that marked Mimi's fabulous descent (her words, not his).
Across from Mimi's position, Allomon's team was busy raining fire on the Council forces, keeping them from getting a bead on Togemon.
Ikkakumon continued to lope along the cliff's edge, away from the battle unfolding behind them. A few minutes that seemed to drag into eternity and he saw the glitter of armor, the dust kicked up by the squad coming after Sora, on the cliff opposite were the fork turned east. They were hugging a path cut into the wall, moving fast. Really fast. Some of them would stop, leveling cannons or firing off spears at something lower down in the canyon.
"There!"
An orange shape weaved just above the river, wings flapping furiously as Birdramon dodged and careened. There was a smaller speck on the Champion, right where her wings met her shoulder blades, and it took Jyou a second to realize that had to be Sora, clinging on for her life. The Council hunters firing down from the trail prevented her from ascending or turning back the way she came. At this rate -
"Ikkakumon!" Jyou's heart tried to leap into his throat. "They must be driving them to an ambush point! Aim for the trail ahead!"
"On it!"
Without stopping, Ikkakumon lowered his head. Aimed. "Harpoon Torpedo!"
The missile hissed away from his horn. It rocketed forward with a blinding flash felt like a solid kick to the ribs at this range. The thunder of it this close rattled his teeth, his ears aching. Jyou risked lifting his head again just in time to see the impact: it slammed into the narrow trail, carving out a huge swath of it as it erupted into debris just yards away from the head of Birdramon's hunting party.
"Again!"
Ikkakumon fired.
"Again!"
Another barrage.
"Again!"
He kept firing until the trail was a spotty patchwork of rock, fragments of limestone barely hanging on, and the occasional scrub roots suddenly exposed to the desert air. Jyou found himself suddenly glad that Mimi had made sure to sew in insulating cloth pads in his helmet, right over his ears. Even clapping down on them, he could still feel his ears ringing from being in such close proximity to the missile salvo. Ikkakumon's voice sounded far away, a whisper instead of a gravely shout. He couldn't make out what his partner was saying. But he could lift himself, head throbbing, just enough off the saddle to survey the destruction and what he saw? It knocked his socks off.
The trail was blown to pieces. Literally.
Ikkakumon hadn't just aimed to stop the hunting squad's forward progress. He'd also aimed behind the group, destroying the trail so they were trapped on a narrow sliver of rock just barely sticking out from the canyon's vertical face. Their retreat was cut off and there was only so much room on what remained. Some of the hunters panicked, pushed at each other. Their screams were faint and unintelligible from here: the unlucky ones who couldn't fly pitched over the side, still scrabbling for purchase as they fell and fell to the ground waiting so far below and - and Jyou had to tear his eyes away.
The quiver of Ikkakumon's body underneath him, the shaky rasp of his lungs, told Jyou that he didn't have much left to continue fighting – at this point, the Digimon's energy was spent and it was only a matter of time before he reverted back to his usual Rookie state. Hearing his own voice as if from a distance, Jyou patted his partner's shoulder.
"Good job - "
He cut himself off at the triumphant flash of fire suddenly flashing past, like a meteor going in the wrong direction.
Birdramon, free of her pursuit, soared above Sandfall Canyon, climbing higher and higher.
For a second, he caught a glimpse of Sora: the girl was clinging onto her partner, mouthing something. Maybe it looked like "go north" or maybe she wasn't saying anything at all. Maybe a part of Jyou wanted to read into it. Their eyes met and then she was rocketing out of sight.
A few feathers the color of a blazing sunset drifted down.
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The Deva surveyed the scene of Sandfall Canyon's failed ambush, his arms crossed over his barrel-chest. His eyes narrowed into gleaming red slits as he scoured the battle site, as if it could offer further insight into these humans, these pests, these interlopers.
These...invaders.
Filth. He wondered how they would like it if he went to their world and showed them a taste of what this was like.
Next to him, the other Deva pawed at the ground with her front hoof and didn't bother hiding the scowl on her snout as she pretended to busy herself recording the brutal carnage and destruction left behind by the Two Generals. Her grip on her stylus kept tightening further and further, as if she was about to snap it in half. After awhile, she couldn't hold her displeasure back:
"All three humans, getting away? Unacceptable!"
Vajramon glanced at the Sheep Deva. Pajiramon always liked things squared away, under control, neatly filed. This messy business with these human war criminals had thrown her for a loop, shook even her usually unflappable demeanor. Now he could see that furious dip of her rack of curved horns as she jerked her head up like she was two seconds away from charging at some invisible enemy, the flick of her stubby tail while poorly disguised rage simmered just under the surface.
"Unacceptable but exceptional," mused Vajramon. "It's clear we need to change our approach with this Purge. Before we could keep them separated, but it seems that's changed. The Two Generals are more organized than the others. It seems they've begun rallying the beginnings of an army, despite the loss of Dragon Tyrant Taichi."
"What about the Zone reformat option? Surely three humans can't survive that."
Vajramon held out a clawed hand. "No! No need to delete countless innocents just to deal with these little beasts."
"What if they report back to the Human World? They could bring more like them!"
"I'll handle the Two Generals. A contingency is in place."
"A...contingency?" Pajiramon sputtered. "Such as?"
With an arch of his eyebrow, Vajramon turned to stare flatly at the other Deva. His ox's tail slapped against his flank. Pajiramon stiffened, forgetting about the usual business of record-keeping. Her stylus drooped in her hand.
"…You can't be serious."
"Very."
"Is she combat ready? She isn't even a Deva!"
"After this, she will be."
Pajiramon shook her head, her great horns swinging. "This is unorthodox."
"As are these times."
"Vajramon, are you claiming personal responsibility for Purging the Two Generals?"
"Yes."
"...I will record this, as I always have," Pajiramon said after a moment of silence, heaving a sigh. "Since you claimed the Two Generals as your personal hunt, you must Purge them both and save their enslaved Digimon, noted as Gomamon&Palmon. Failure to show mercy to the Generals' slaves will result in your deletion. Failure to execute their human masters will also result in your deletion. If you are deleted for these failures, rebirth won't be permitted."
She went down the rest of the Council's checklist, rattled. If you asked her, this was a huge mistake! Vajramon was putting his own reputation, his very life, on the line all because he vouched for this contingency plan of his. "...You have until the next Council assembly. Press [Y]/[N] here, at the bottom of the form."
Vajramon reached for [Y]ES. Pajiramon jogged it out of reach, eyes searching his face, as if she could convince him to change his mind.
"At least tell me why. Off the record."
He bore fangs, his grin close to a snarl. "There's a whole world of these creatures. There's so much we don't know about it."
"We already know plenty."
"It isn't enough. And I'm confident I can make the rest of the Council see that, too. My way, we'll know how to take the fight to the humans, for a change."
To be continued in Part 2
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