Digital Shuffle
By famirad
Disclaimer: I don't own or claim to own Digimon. This fanfiction is for fun.
Author's Note: Once again, going into edit. I'm also removing my Author's Notes from before because they're embarassingly filled with 2001 fangirlism. Thank you for reading.
Italics for thoughts and emphasis and sound effects
Bold for implied feelings, mostly for the Juggernaut.
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Digital Shuffle
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(Chapter 5 – Lack of a Power Trip)
Calumon toddled along the rooftop.
He glanced about for a possible playmate. Who's gonna play with me today? So far no one, but it was fun wandering around, though he had to admit that he sorta wished he'd have someone to wander around with. The thing was to bring a friend along with you so you could have fun together!
He, however, would prove to be successful in finding someone. Even though that someone didn't particularly want to play at the moment.
Impmon perched on a box, squeezed between a radiators as he tried to catch some shut-eye. It wasn't easy getting to sleep – after all, it bothered him that he'd seen Renamon jumping around the skyscrapers yesterday, with that purposeful twitch in her tail that said she was on a mission. Lookin' for me, I bet. Impmon closed his eyes. He started think trying to sell off information so he could stuff his mouth wasn't the smart idea he thought it was. It wasn't worth it for Fox Face to manhandle him.
After last time he wasn't exactly looking forward to a repeat. Those dumb Digi-slaves working their tails off for those humans. Fox Face wouldn't be so nasty if she didn't follow that precious brat of hers! Impmon himself had bad experiences with humans – especially kids – and couldn't figure out for the life of him what they got in return for scraping and bowing to their "Tamers". It was like the world's worst joke and no one was laughing.
It wasn't like he was jealous. Totally not jealous. Why would he want to be a slave to some human? Being told what to do, what to say, how to act and how to play. Nope, he definitely didn't want to deal with them again.
"Oooh, are you talking to yourself? Can I join in? It looks fun!"
Impmon jumped out of his skin.
"Over here, silly!"
Impmon looked up, and made a face of disgust. He knew this Digimon from seeing him several times. It was the whiny one who sometimes traveled with those so-called Tamers. He scowled, "What d'you want?"
Balancing on a thin pipe running between the two radiators, Calumon grinned, his ears expanding to their full size. "I wanna play, of course!" He seemed to have completely forgotten Impmon's past attempt to absorb his data.
"Go away!"
But the small Digimon wasn't listening, still babbling on; "So, can I join in your game? It looked sorta fun – you were nodding and shaking your head like this," here he demonstrated, shaking his head furiously. "And looking all serious. Must be fun if you're concentrating so hard!"
Impmon didn't feel like trying to figure out the other's logic, "Y'deaf or something? I said t'go away!"
"But - "
Impmon held up a gloved paw, a small fireball igniting in his palm, " - I don't feel like playin'! What part of no don't ya understand?"
The oversized ears on Calumon's head shrunk down. He made a sad face, "Aww…why not? You're not doing anything…and neither am I…and it's more fun if we play together instead of being all serious and stuff alone."
Impmon thought about this – for about three seconds.
"Get lost!"
"Can I at least hang out around here for a while?" Calumon said, "I won't make you play with me if you don't wanna."
Impmon leaned back into his makeshift seat, the fireball vanishing with a small puff of smoke. He didn't feel like moping some more (which was exactly what he had been doing up till now) and it would be different from the usual routine, having someone else nearby. Besides, he wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but the company would be nice, and he wouldn't be feeling so sorry for himself.
"Fine," came the gruff reply.
Calumon cheered loudly into Impmon's ear and let go of the piping, landing on a ledge near the other Digimon's knee. The In-Training bounced from paw to paw.
"Ooh, you're being serious again!" Calumon giggled, "You look so funny when you make those faces!"
"I ain't makin' faces!"
"Are too!" Calumon responded, and abruptly made an exaggerated frown, trying to make his huge eyes as small as he could in a beady squint, "Like this. So serious!"
"I ain't serious!" Impmon replied indignantly. He laughed to prove it.
"That doesn't count! That was fake."
"So you're the laugh expert, huh?" The Rookie shot back hotly.
Calumon beamed. "Silly, you can't force a laugh! It's natural – it just comes out when you're really happy. Like, when you're playing a game with a bunch of friends and you're winning and everyone's cheering," he held up his stubby paws in a makeshift funnel, imitating a shouting bystander, " 'Go Calumon! You can do it!' and you're having fun being with your friends and waving to everyone and you laugh 'cause it's really fun…" he trailed off as he caught his breath.
Impmon scratched the back of his head in puzzlement, "So you laugh when you win?"
Calumon giggled again, "Yup! It's a lot of fun, winning! But I always laugh when I'm doing something fun."
Is that my problem, then? I haven't won anything, not even one of those pathetic human games…The In-Training seemed to be around humans a lot, though he didn't trip after any "Tamer's" heels. Was he like Impmon, then? Nah. I'm the only one with th' brains to see that there's nothin' to be gained from hanging onto to a human. Impmon couldn't remember all the details of his encounter with a human, but he what he did remember was confusion and pain – that, and whenever he tried to attach a name to the face (he kept getting plagued by a flash of blond hair, of braids), he only got a headache. Still, Calumon might have some interesting points. Winning might be everything.
"So, yer Calumon, right?" Impmon asked, too curious to feel annoyed anymore.
"Yup! Calumon, Culumon, Kurumon," he hopped in place, emphasizing his words, "It doesn't matter! I'm me-e!"
Impmon rubbed at one ear, wincing, "Yeah, I figured. So, y'hang around humans a lot or somethin'?"
"They're a lot of fun sometimes! The humans with the other Digimon are fun too. Especially Guilmon! You ever met Guilmon?"
Impmon tried to remember. "Might've."
"He's a lot of fun – you should play with us sometime: you wouldn't be so scowly then."
"I ain't scowly."
Calumon hopped down from his little ledge, "Then play with us sometime! Otherwise you're scowly! Scowly, scowly, scowly!"
Scowling, Impmon was about to give his answer when an excited squeal cut him off.
"He-e-ey! Look, um…" Calumon was tottering toward the fence edge, pointing as he tried to come up with the other Digimon's name.
"Impmon."
"Impmon! Look, something else to play with!" Calumon gestured frantically at something. Impmon was tempted to ignore him, but after a moment he jumped down from the box, strolling casually after Calumon so it wouldn't look like he was interested. He was soon standing behind the shorter Digimon, trying to figure out what got the little squirt so excited.
"I don't see anything."
Calumon pointed again, "Over there - that misty thingie over that tall house. Maybe we should say hi?"
Impmon shaded his eyes with one paw, blocking out the red glare of the lights. At first he didn't see anything interesting, just what looked like a harmless cloud floating above one of the city's many skyscrapers. It didn't strike him as weird. What did was the fact the small patch of cloud was starting to spin into a flat spiral. He might not be an expert on the human's Real World, but he knew clouds didn't start making weird shapes like that.
The two small Digimon watched as the mist began to whirl around at a faster pace, turning until it was perpendicular to the skyscraper's level roof.
Impmon stiffened as he felt something approaching. Next to him, Calumon shrank down as if he wanted to back away from the rapidly spinning cloud. Is this a digital field? He could definitely feel a Digimon close by. It felt somehow like it could eat Calumon and him for breakfast.
Something slowly started to emerge from the mist, which was beginning to resemble a foggy gate instead of a cloud. It was still too far away and too dark to see clearly, and he couldn't tell who was the Digimon starting to pull itself from the gateway.
Don't tell me it's another one of those Digi-slaves goin' to his "Tamer"…
Calumon shivered, ears shrinking down. "Oh, let's go! I don't like this anymore."
"In a sec," Impmon replied, still watching. The Digimon pulled itself completely from the mist. It looked from this distance almost like a Unimon, but the resemblance didn't go that far. Not unless Unimon suddenly sprouted dark fur, lost a few (try fifty) pounds, and grew what looked like wings from its head. And got a serious case of the uglies. Half of its face was gnarled fangs. Like skin stretched against a rack of bones. From what he could see, Impmon knew this Digimon wouldn't be entering any beauty contests soon. The strange Digimon glanced around like he was scoping the joint out.
Impmon couldn't help starting as the distant Digimon's head suddenly swiveled around to look right at him. Or was it? It was dark, there was no way it would have seen the two. The Digimon's dark shadow turned away and Impmon let out the breath he was unconsciously holding as the Digimon bounded away from the lit tower, disappearing from view.
Calumon shook himself, turning around to face the slightly taller virus-type.
"I don't like him. He doesn't feel like he was any fun, " he complained.
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Kaminmon sailed between the skyscrapers, the feathered wings on his head outstretched. It was a long journey. Traveling constantly between realities through his Digital Mist was tiring. The Champion landed on a sloping roof with a clatter of cloven hooves and began to canter quickly up the tiled slope so he could get a running start for another long leap, his wings flapping for leverage.
His tongue lolled out around the red D-Arc he held clamped between his fangs.
I could have just stayed in that form – it did have those paws and it would have made it easier to carry this cursed thing. Kaminmon realized, pushing himself away from the rooftop, sailing up toward a taller building. Too bad that body would've been shattered at the first jump. Still, he had to admit, it had been mildly enjoyable, walking around in that form – laughing at the weaklings walking oblivious to him – and his encounter with the girl was even more entertaining. She must be Ruki Makino, another Tamer. It was the closest he'd been to being a part of the historic Purges, with that grip on her throat.
Maybe I should ask Mistress if I could have permission to kill next time. At this thought, Kaminmon's long tongue brushed against the slick plastic surface of the strangely shaped Digivice. She won't be so cruel as to deny me this entertainment.
Kaminmon thoroughly enjoyed attacking the young girl. He loved taking her frail body down to the ground, the feeling of her struggling to stop him from choking her. The Champion didn't have an extensive knowledge of human physiology, but he assumed they were vulnerable in the same places he probably would be. Kaminmon let out an almost content sigh around the Digivice clasped in his mouth. Maybe next time.
With a snap, his wings unfurled, the feathers ruffling as he took another graceful dive off the building, moving easily through the early darkness of the morning. A jolt as he landed on the roof and immediately rebounded off, his mane of thicker fur whipping behind him in the wind. Kaminmon once against took to the air. He was still thinking back to his encounter with Ruki Makino as he neared his destination. That experience was very enjoyable. One I'd like to repeat. Perhaps with a different one? Humans are so random that it would probably be a different reaction…
Now wouldn't that be something to look forward to? Almost like a little lottery.
If only he'd been alive during the Purges!
I've never had a chance to inflict harm on a human before. Golems and other Digimon didn't count, but it had been necessary so he could digivolve. As for the Golems…it didn't matter what happened to those things. They were only useful for following orders. It was a new thought, hurting another creature for no other reason than seeing it in pain. Must be something in my code. He knew he was an unnatural virus-type – he was proud of it too. It made him strong, made him worthy of being picked for this. Being a part of history. And there was nothing wrong with thoroughly...enjoying what he did, too.
It might be his primary function, but he reminded himself he had enough self-restraint to see that he carry out his Mistress's plan before he went off to do his own thing. The Mistress had been the only one who took pity on him when he was at his weakest. He vowed to repay the debt.
Kaminmon landed with a dull clacking of hooves meeting tile. This was as far as he could go before he'd be completely lost. Kaminmon could vaguely feel the presence of his Mistress, but she could be anywhere within the five kilometer area. With a grunt, Kaminmon settled down onto his knees, hind legs folding under him, his winged ears closing with a snap.
He closed his bright blue eyes, concentrating. With a nauseating sensation, his awareness began to expand as he extended his aura. Images of random humans, of animals, of memories, began to assault him. The Champion didn't give himself time to be overwhelmed by the vast amounts of information assaulting him – he blocked out everything, summoning up how his Mistress looked here, how she smelled, her distinctive presence. That sense of casual power.
My lady, he called, the words echoing in his ears. Mistress, I succeeded.
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Takato once again floated in the black space.
He didn't know how long he'd been sitting around here, bored out of his mind, although he had a feeling it was at least several hours. At first he was fascinated with watching the shimmering digital lines, had stared as they changed from being relatively straight to forming complex shapes that resembled mountains and moving water. It quickly got boring. Still, he supposed it was better than having some supposedly "harmful" defect getting pointed out – especially when he had this niggling feeling the Juggernaut might be right.
The last "check" was relatively short. It had been quick, although he made a point of doing everything he could to show he wasn't listening to the Juggernaut's logic. Really didn't matter, I guess. Because here he was, back again in what he was beginning to realize was the waiting room. There wasn't much to do, except wonder what was going to happen to him and that his friends were worried about him. He couldn't see any possible way out of this weird dream state – the Juggernaut would read his mind or something anyway and he'd probably end up hurting himself in the process.
Catching on quickly, I see. Excellent. You can adapt to situations when the need arises.
Takato only grunted in reply. The Juggernaut hadn't made any attempt to initiate any conversation ever since he was left here. Takato stopped after awhile, seeing he wasn't making any progress in getting any useful information from the computer. So if the Juggernaut was suddenly starting to pay attention to him, then that meant…
That I am almost done dealing with the data from you? Correct.
Five hours have nearly elapsed. A thin string of static, which disappeared quickly, interrupted the black space around Takato. A word of advice, companion system. Takato said nothing, listening to the slightly altered tone of the Juggernaut. There's no point in fighting against programming - both yours and mine will intersect so that our goals are one. It has been set. Struggling will accomplish nothing.
I don't see why you'd have such a problem with it, because I'm not going to sit back in here forever.
You do not have a choice.
There's always a choice.
Another string of crackling static. There is never a choice, especially here. We have already begun the primary stages of integration, and – unless your programming can override mine, which is impossible - "choice" is irrelevant.
Takato winced, as the static grew louder, clapping his hands over his ears.
The Juggernaut apparently noticed it too. This is only mild interference, Takato Matsuda. It will be over. You must learn to ignore minor discomfort if you are to be able to carry out our projected goal efficiently. A pause, and the white noise gone. There. Now we will continue with the background check.
Oh, goody. Some more quality time with the Juggernaut. Just what the doctor ordered.
The Juggernaut didn't notice the sarcasm or it was ignoring him, something it seemed to do a lot. The black space glimmered, the digital lines running through it vanishing like smoke.
Now where're we? Takato hesitated. He was now sitting on a railing lining the sidewalk. Again, the area looked to be deserted; as he looked around, he couldn't see a living soul, although he could definitely see that people had been here not too long ago. Cars were still parked along the street, doors to shops swinging open, and further down the street, the Tamer could see an electronics store brandishing a large selection of TVs and computers, though all the screens were blank. A dog barked in the distance.
Where is everyone? Takato began to find the abandoned street creepy. People don't just vanish for no reason at all…
An advertising sign from a nearby store fell over with a thump, causing the boy to jump at the sound. The howls of the lone dog died down as the animal paused for another breath.
West Shinjiku. You should recognize it, considering that you were here only seven days ago. A small bird fluttered down, landing a small food stall's windowsill only a few feet away. The sparrow regarded him with its cold, bead-like eyes.
Takato shifted into a comfortable position from his perch on the railing. So it was a bird this time? Last check, the Juggernaut's avatar had been, of all things, a dandelion. For some reason, a talking flower struck him as hilarious and he had spent a couple minutes laughing uncontrollably while the computer waited for him to finish. After that, he sobered quickly.
It hadn't been that funny.
Takato remembered now he had been on this very road not too long ago, when he was hanging out with Jenrya. But where was his best friend? He didn't see Jenrya anywhere, and he clearly remembered there had been people along the sidewalks. Last time I went, it was crowded, he argued, not for the sake of winning, but in hopes he'd distract the Juggernaut.
I have the ability to modify the way you perceive your memories here. I took the liberty of removing the people so there would be a minimal amount of distraction. The sparrow cocked one black eye on the boy. This is all I can do, until I'm further integrated into your system and possess more influence. I am not able to permanently modify your memories as of yet.
Takato's eyes widened, "You're going to change my memories?!" He squeaked.
Only what is unnecessary for my programmed purposes. You'll find 10% is not much. Besides, humans modify your own memories all the time: forcing yourselves to forget things you do not want to remember, embellishing minor occurrences until they become legends in their own right. Your race is the only one capable of lying to themselves and truly believing that lie.
A deceitful species.
Takato eyed the Juggernaut-sparrow: he didn't like hurting animals or anything, but right now he was seriously considering the prospects of dropkicking the avatar into the next city. Maybe the next time zone if he could. No doubt the thing would appear right next to him, but he'd feel a little better showing some resistance instead of sitting here like a block of wood. Takato had a feeling any show of force would be pretty much useless. The sparrow hopped closer, almost challenging.
But I am deviating from the matters at hand. Was Takato imagining it, or was the bird bearing an amused air? It appears I am already starting to learn your human phrases. I find this…humorous, is it? Yes, I think that is the word. The sparrow's head tilted, still staring at him. In the distance, the abandoned dog started barking again.
Takato didn't it as funny as the Juggernaut apparently did. He crossed his arms over his chest and glanced around, wishing this would be over.
Eager now to proceed? The bird hopped along its perch, its head turned to regard Takato. Very well. A few more bobbing hops, the Juggernaut's avatar rustling its wings. Let me ask you a question first: what is it you desire most in this world, companion system? The one thing you would do anything for, even kill for? What is it?
Takato shook his head, not liking the Juggernaut's change in its approach, asking suspiciously, "What kind of question is this?"
A relevant one. Answer it.
He didn't see any reason why he should.
I do not ask this for my own sake, Takato Matsuda.
"Then why ask at all?"
You need to know.
Takato fell silent. He didn't want anything. He certainly wouldn't kill anyone for something he might want. For a moment, his stomach heaved at the thought of killing someone and he thought he was going to violently sick.
What is it you desire most in this world? The Juggernaut repeated. What is it you desire?
"Nothing! I don't want anything!" Takato finally snapped at the sparrow, his discomfort growing.
Correct. And that is the problem as well. You had only one desire you would kill for, one wish that should have been impossible to fulfill. The Juggernaut said. You wanted a companion, a "friend" who could fight your battles for you. In the end, it was only a matter of power – because you were too weak to stand up to yourself, you managed to create someone do to it for you. Because you received your wish, you have no strong desires. No longer do you have anything to motivate you onward.
You once wanted power. You wanted a strength you, subconsciously, knew you lacked.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
You only refuse to acknowledge it. All humans crave something beyond their wish: it is a trait reserved for the living. This drives you forward in your short lives, trying to achieve the impossible. It gives meaning to your existence.
You do not desire power now. That in itself makes you defective as a human when your entire race thrives on strength.
Takato scowled, pushing himself away from the railing he had been leaning against. Why was he standing here listening to this? He headed down the abandoned sidewalk, not caring where he went. As long as he put some distance between him and the computer.
Running away? You prefer fleeing instead of facing an obstacle? Some call that the act of a coward.
Shut up!
The Juggernaut continued, the bird remaining where it was. Where will you escape to? There is nowhere to run. You do not even possess the power to run from me. Where is your strength, once you are separated from your Digimon? You are only capable of running in circles. A mouse caught in a simulated maze.
Takato sped his pace up into longer strides, now running blindly down the sidewalk. He kept his head down, not looking where he was going. No matter how fast he ran or how far he drew away from the sparrow, the words followed him, echoing around in the air, the empty buildings, in the deserted streets. Takato pounded down the sidewalk, his steps reverberating across the walls, as if he was in a deep canyon. The stores blurred past him.
Why do you run when you know there is no place to hide, companion system? I derive no pleasure from pursuit, said the Juggernaut. I confront you with your imperfections because they can be fixed. Not because it pleases me. I am incapable of pleasure.
Takato began to slow down, his breakneck pace eventually coming to a stop. Gasping for breath, the young boy bent over, hands on his knees. He'd covered a big distance – he knew he did – but it looked like he hadn't gone anywhere at all. His legs threatened to give out under him, his knees shaking.
You hate it, don't you? That I know more about you than you do.
Takato glanced up at the sky, which was an agonizingly cheerful shade of blue. Of course he did!
I do not pinpoint your flaws simply to antagonize you. I do this because you can aid in correcting them. The Juggernaut paused, the sparrow winging its way toward the Tamer. If it may comfort you, all humans are flawed, not just you. None match the projected ideal that has been programmed into me by my creator. "It is the most flawed ones that have a chance of redemption". It quoted. You should consider yourself lucky. You will succeed where others failed.
Takato started as the bird landed on his shoulder. He winced, as if a scalding iron touched him.
Consider this, Takato Matsuda. You will need learn to be strong very quickly. You must be ready to use any means necessary to fulfill our goal. A hesitation, and the Juggernaut asked, with an unusually crafty tone. You wish to protect those you care about, correct?
…Well…yeah…but…
If you are so stubborn that you cannot recognize the defects within you, you will be in no position to protect anyone.
…stop it. The protest was half-hearted now.
You only need to become strong and accepting of power. The tiny bird's talons pricked his skin, easily piercing through the blue clothing of his shirt. In order to do that, you must be accepting of me, for I am power.
As we speak, my influence grows. I am spread underneath more than half of this city and yet I still continue to expand. I could have access to any part of Tokyo , yet I do not have the ability to do so. I am latent. Without something to drive me, I cannot run at full efficiency. I sleep in a similar way as you do. Power without a guiding hand. Because I am an inorganic system, I do not possess the will to force action.
You, on the other hand, are the exact opposite. You are only human. Mortal. You have little to no influence on others. You would be lucky to even live past the age of seventy, but a blink to a machine of my caliber. You can be terminated with no difficulty. If you suddenly vanished off the face of the planet, no one – but a select few – would even notice, much less care. But you have a special ability: you have your organic Will, the guiding force required to carry out my objective. You have the power to use my influence throughout the city, whereas I do not. You are the true eyes of the two companion systems.
We are two components that only need to be fit together to make the perfect whole. Do you not see this? You need to be ambitious, to be as ruthless as a machine. You need to be ready and willing to use my strength, whatever the obstacles. The sparrow bobbed its head, the unblinking beady eyes staring at Takato. I know you better than anyone on this Earth.
A long pause.
I need you, and this need is what disturbs you, is it not?
Takato shivered. He couldn't bring himself to put his trust in this strange being.
But you are unable to completely ignore what I say either. There is something intriguing about it and this…interests you.
Takato kept silent, although he knew he had thought of something that betrayed him.
Perhaps there is hope. Your will is weak, but with proper attention, it can become the driving force I need. It felt like the Juggernaut was (impossibly) regarding Takato with an amused expression. Soon you will crave power once again and then you will be ready to access the systems at your disposal.
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This isn't working. Jenrya realized, with a yawn.
He had been up all night yesterday and hadn't gotten much sleep. Running around trying to look for Takato again hadn't been very productive, and the only hint at progress was the yellow goggles sitting on his cluttered desk. Not to mention we spent all that time trying to chase down that Digimon Terriermon said he felt. Of course, by the time Terriermon pinpointed the digital field's location, and they managed to get to the park, there was no sign of any new Digimon. Only new ditches that gaped in the ground, a few trees shattered into toothpicks and a splotch of mud that had been trampled through. He didn't have a doubt what happened – obviously, Ruki had been in the area, and she confronted the wild one and won. Like usual.
Which made Jenrya feel pretty stupid for rushing over for nothing.
Now Jenrya and his partner picked their way through the damp sidewalks. He wasn't surprised he hadn't come across Takato. As the days passed, his hopes dropped lower and lower.
And still life continued as normal, even though his best friend was still missing.
"Really poured last night," said Terriermon from his usual perch on his partner's head. He chuckled. "Betcha Guilmon must've had a blast."
"Terriermon…"
The Rookie blinked at his tone, " Momentai, Jenrya. It was a joke. Y'know, joke?"
"More like sarcasm," Jenrya replied. He pillaged his refrigerator before he left and was now carrying a bag of groceries in one hand. Ruki hadn't volunteered to watch after Guilmon, now that Takato was indefinitely missing, so it looked like he would have to take on that responsibility. "I'm not really in the mood for jokes. Sorry."
Terriermon was silent for a moment before speaking up again, "What're we going to do? I'm sure Guilmon must've noticed something's wrong by now."
"I don't know. What we need to do is make sure he doesn't starve."
A laughing snort, "He's always starving. I've never seen that glutton get full."
"He's not the only one I know who pigs out."
"Hey, I do not!"
Jenrya shook his head, "When you eat more than you weigh, I think I'd call it pigging out."
"I call it eating right."
"Same thing," Jenrya shrugged. He continued down the sidewalk, trying to look like he didn't see the occasional glances thrown at him from the few people walking along the streets. He knew it was weird for him, a boy his age, to be walking around with what everyone assumed was a stuffed animal - especially when he appeared to be talking to it. Jenrya steadily ignored the stares aimed his way as he passed a row of TV screens.
"Hey, hold on a minute," Terriermon said.
Jenrya stopped in his tracks, "What's up?"
"What's this?
Jenrya glanced about and came face-to-screen with one of the store's TVs. He took a step back before he blinded himself, "This?"
"Yeah. This show."
Jenrya focused on it. On the screen were six kids standing on the edge of a cliff. They seemed vaguely recognizable, and the show had to be a rerun, because it looked at least a few years old. He'd seen this before, he realized, and he recognized the small animals the kids were holding, the steel-lined goggles on one of the boy's heads, a tall girl with a pink cowboy hat. "Oh, that's Digimon Adventure. It ended two years ago, but it's still really popular."
"Didn't know they had a show on us…" Terriermon mused.
"It finished its run before you arrived."
"Huh, so that explains it. But I thought you people didn't know about Digimon."
"It was based off a game someone started a few years ago. Except for us, I think everyone still believes you guys are only cards or game characters," Jenrya replied. He turned away, continuing down the sidewalk. Terriermon still seemed interested in the show, so he added, "I have a bunch of tapes at home, if you want to watch it. It's about these kids who go to the Digital World."
Terriermon shook his head thoughtfully, "Nah, I think I'll pass. I was just thinking that it sounded awfully familiar to something I'd heard a long time ago, but…never mind."
Jenrya shrugged. He had to admit, he was curious about what was on his partner's mind, but he decided not to pry into the matter. Though...it did remind him he really didn't know that much about Terriermon before he'd met him. Guess he's going to tell me what he's thinking sometime.
Wonder what I should do now? Looking for Takato was starting to feel increasingly stupid. He knew he wouldn't be finding his friend any time soon without a better plan. Still, the idea he should just give up didn't sit well. Jenrya headed down a less crowded ally, passing through the shadows. He'd considered trying to call another meeting, but decided against it. He didn't feel he had the right to keep calling everyone like that, making them drop whatever they were doing just so he could try to come up with a plan of action. Nothing had changed. Some leadership material, huh?
Jenrya cut through an intersecting alley, following it until he came out into the paved paths of the park. It had been a few days since he'd been here, and the pavement was a dark gray from the showers last night. Branches had been blown down from the fierce winds a few hours ago, forcing him to take it easy. The nearby trees creaked. You better believe that he kept an eye and ear out in case one of those big, old branches decided to come crashing down.
Before long, Jenrya and Terriermon n reached the top of the damp staircase. The area was a clutter of leaves and still-drying puddles. The concrete shed had easily withstood last night's storm, the tall barred gate still shut. Jenrya approached the small building, reaching out and undoing the latch as he peered inside.
"Takato?" came a sleepy voice.
Jenrya pulled the door open, "No, it's Jenrya."
Guilmon glanced up from his dirt nest at the back of the small room, eyes blinking in surprise at the unexpected visit. Jenrya stepped inside. No sign Takato might've dropped in to visit his partner, though Jenrya knew there was little chance of that happening. Still, his imagination kept insisting he keep his hopes up.
Guilmon padded over, sniffing curiously at the bags Jenrya set on the ground, "What's this?"
"Breakfast," Jenrya said as he knelt down. Terriermon hopped off his shoulder as Guilmon began to sift through the various items of food in the bags. "Thought you might be getting bored of bread."
Guilmon settled back, eying the five egg rolls he held pinned between his claws, "I could never get bored of bread! Or peanut butter – I love peanut butter!" He began shoveling the food from the bags into his mouth, "…so, when's Takato coming over? He's gonna get two tackles now!"
Terriermon shot a glance at Jenrya.
"Not today," he said haltingly, "…actually…he…ah…"
Terriermon joined in, seeing he was having some trouble, "He had to go away for a while."
"He did?" Guilmon's winged ears drooped. "How come he didn't tell me?"
"How would I know? Do I look like Takato to you?"
"No, but…do you know when he's coming back?" Guilmon's wings drooped even lower as the two shook their heads. He hadn't seen his friend for three days now, and it hurt to think Takato took off somewhere (somewhere probably fun) without him. Why would Takato leave without him? Maybe I did something he didn't like…but Takato always forgives me later. Guilmon tried to recall any recent incidents that might've gotten Takato mad at him. Don't think it's about me digivolving to Growlmon…what about that time I snuck out with Impmon? Nah…he got over that…maybe it's the time I accidentally sat on that lunch his mom made…
That didn't seem right. It probably wasn't the time Guilmon'd sat on him either…
It never occurred to him maybe his Tamer wasn't having the time of his life. For all Guilmon knew, Takato was sitting somewhere having a lot of fun, surrounded by peanut butter, bread, and candy. Guilmon sighed mournfully around a particularly large cracker he was munching on.
Wish Takato took me with him…
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Ruki Makino herself did nothing that day, save sleep and hope her swelling throat would feel better in the morning.
Her grandmother puttered about the house, sensing her granddaughter wasn't feeling well. She quietly did her best to elevate the younger girl's discomfort, deciding it was best not to ask. Renamon hovered about the lot's premises, her ice eyes warning bodily harm if she laid them on that certain boy.
Strangely enough, considering his attack from the night before, he was nowhere to be found.
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Kincaid let her lips curl into a faint smile as she felt the weight of the Digivice bounce in her uniform's pockets. It was mildly surprising how quickly her servant returned to her with his success. One of the reasons he serves me, not someone else, like Nagamora. Not that she had a problem with the man – though she knew "man" wasn't quite the right term. Nagamora was like her. Better than human. He was the first: he had been situated in Tokyo for over seven years, the saint.
She was amazed he hadn't gone insane from dealing with swarms of humans.
Kincaid supposed Nagamora was more patient than she was. He didn't seem to mind being surrounded by them as much as she or Kaminmon did – probably a "duty" or "honor" thing. Her cohort was big on "honor", which was most likely why he volunteered for operation in the first place. He was in charge of opening the way for the others, and he took his job as the Founder very seriously. She, on the other hand, intended to get as much entertainment as she could. She had been elected to be the Deceiver months after Nagamora began the infiltration.
So who's next? Founder, Deceiver... The Shield comes next. The Founder, the Deceiver, the Shield, the Sword, and the Ruler. She had her own suspicions as to who might be chosen as the Shield and the Sword.
Greymon will probably be the Sword, Kincaid reflected as she headed down into the depths of the building.
She remembered meeting the Digimon years ago, only a few months after "the incident". Greymon's loss she couldn't understand. The idea of willingly serving a human gave her the heebie-jeebies. All she knew was she had seven Digimon on her paws, seven who would probably attempt to delete themselves if they weren't watched. Nagamora had a little talk with them but it was still an uphill took months to get them back on track. To fix the damage the humans had done to them.
By the time Kincaid was sent to the Real World, all had once again reverted to their Champion forms. Some had even gone further. Their memory of the Digital World disaster faded enough that they could be productive members of society. That was what the reports had said, anyway. The second time she'd seen some of them, they had been raring for action: Greymon and Garurumon stood out above the rest, shining examples of redemption. If Greymon becomes the Sword, then he'll probably be rewarded for it. I wouldn't be surprised if he was given enough data to digivolve to War Greymon. That would be a sight!
Now that the Founder and the Deceiver were in place, all that was needed was to open the rifts wide enough to allow the main forces through. The Shield would have to do what no one has accomplish, ever: breaching the barrier between the Digital and Real World, large enough for a full-scale invasion. Kincaid had to wonder who would be chosen for the Shield. She had her opinions about who it should be, but in the end, it was the Council's decision about who the Digimon would ultimately be. Kincaid shook her head. She should really concentrate on her job, not daydreaming about when the human threat would finally be under control.
Such as what I'm going to do with this Digivice. Actually, she already knew what she was going to do with it. It was more of a matter as to what she should program the Juggernaut to do once it finished its internal affairs. If it's powerful enough, perhaps I could nominate it to be the Sword if there're no suitable Digimon candidates. We never specified if any of the Line had to be a Digimon…
That was still a while to go. Her job wasn't finished. Hers began where Nagamora's ended, the two complimenting each other. Just as it had been back home, back when they could be themselves.
Kincaid took the emergency stairs. As she quickly descended, she toyed with the Digivice, turning it over in her palm. To tell the truth, she was surprised at the Digivice's appearance: oblong, a silvery-white with red trimming. She'd only seen a real Digivice once before this and it hadn't looked anything like the one nestled in her pocket. Kaminmon had said it was apparently called a "D-Arc".
The humans probably learned from their mistakes. Maybe some sort of modification. That was the only way she could explain it. It wasn't surprising they improved it. Obviously, they didn't want a repeat of what happened the first time they had discovered the existence of other worlds.
Last time it was seven. And now it's three. At least there's less of the rats this time.
Again, Kincaid pushed open the door, closing it carefully behind her to it wouldn't echo. She didn't want to risk the chances of someone hearing her. She quickly crossed the corridor to the welded steel doors, shifting as she moved. A moment of delay, and she easily slid through, now on the other side of the doors. There wasn't any pause to regain her bearings – she made straight for the hulk of the Juggernaut as she melded into her true form, her furred tail swishing behind her. Her silver eyes bulged, large as plates.
The lights closest to the huge machine flickered in recognition as she approached.
"How's the new system, Juggernaut?"
No answer, save a satisfied creak from the cabinets surrounding the huge metal dome. This earned a laugh from Kincaid: she definitely could sense the change within the computer. My baby's growing up.
"Good," a little surprising the Juggernaut was becoming more lifelike by the day, but she continued, "By the way, I have something for you."
An almost curious break in the general hum of machinery.
"Here." Kincaid crossed the threshold, stepping over the large cables scattered all over the floor. She weaved around the multi-colored cabinets, coming to a stop before the Juggernaut. She was completely dwarfed by its bulk (it didn't help she shrunk a few feet when she resumed her original form), but she refused to allow herself to be intimidated. No, I'm the one holding the reins here – I created it. She leaned forward and knocked on the hull of the Juggernaut. "But you need to open up for me."
There was a deliberating pause. Kincaid started to frown, and her voice was suddenly low and commanding:
"Now."
There was no further delay as the Juggernaut obeyed its creator. Seams suddenly became clear in the plating and thick jets of white steam shot out from the opening cracks. Even though it was starting to resemble a living creature more and more, it still had to follow her orders. Besides, it only hesitated because it was looking out for its own well-being. She reasoned. It's only following the cautionary protocol I programmed into it.
Kincaid stepped forward, ignoring the tendrils of mist still curling around her small round ears and gloved paws. No cables sought to sink themselves into her any longer. They now collected densely in one area, shifting and creaking as they snaked over each other over the bulging mass.
"Your personality matrix," she ordered.
Another hiss from the Juggernaut, but it didn't make any motions to rebel against the command. The coils and segmented cables began to unwrap, pulling aside as the center of the mass was pushed forward. They pulled away until the shining surface of the capsule was revealed. Dozens of wires, thick and thin, had attached themselves to the exposed arms and body – three had sunk into the boy's neck, pulsing, while a larger one was planted comfortably into his side. The smaller cables weaved, agitated, in the air. It didn't like being exposed like this.
Kincaid leaned in. Since she was down here, she might as well check up on the boy's physical condition. If there was something wrong with the procedure, she'd need to be able to address the problem quickly.
Reaching out with a furred arm, she lifted the helmet off his head, pushing it backward and careful not to detach the wires curled from the back of the gear to his neck. A blank face stared, unseeing, over her shoulder, the human's eyes glassy, with a glazed look to them. She checked his pulse. A steady, strong beat. Satisfied by this, Kincaid waved her hand in front of his pale face. No reaction. She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes: this earned a slightest reaction, though it was delayed by several long seconds. His pupils didn't dilate or contract.
Kincaid reached out and replaced the helmet, her fingers running briefly over the six jewel-like half-orbs. Everything looked good as she lowered the metal back onto the boy's head. The general sense of expectancy that hung in the air grew as she reached into her pocket and held out the red D-Arc toward the open machine.
"Take this," she said, fingers uncurling so the Digivice was nestled in her palm. "I'll be coming down later to upload your new orders."
There was a rustling creak as glittering wires stretched out toward her hand. They hovered momentarily about the D-Arc, weaving about only a few centimeters away as if fascinated. Sniffing it out. A click as one adventurous coil darted in and touched the surface. A moment's touch and than it was gone, but the change the D-Arc underwent at its contact was startling.
It grew light in Kincaid's hand. The red vanished when the wire touched the D-Arc and now the Digivice was devoid of any color, the blood red exchanged for a more neutral white. The coils stretched out and wrapped around the offering, lifting it and withdrawing back into the Juggernaut. Another jet of steam from the beastly machine and it was once again silent, though there was now a more sated feel to the air.
It was pleased with the D-Arc. Well, as pleased as artificial intelligence could feel, at any rate.
To be continued...
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