Digital Shuffle

by famirad

One night, Takato vanishes, leaving Guilmon behind. With something weird happening at Hypnos, maybe there's more to this than just a missing boy. Jenrya and Ruki must face conspiracies, a Digital World bent on invasion, and new allies with their own agendas. They aren't the first kids to meet Digimon...and these partnerships aren't as magical as they seem. [Tamers AU with 01, WS]

16. Dreamer

Digital Shuffle
By famirad

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own Digimon Tamers.
Author's Note: This is an AU of Digimon Tamers. It will be merging with some of the other canons.

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Digital Shuffle
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(Dreamer)

The Will was… "dreaming".

There was a time when things were different. He couldn't place when. "When" didn't exist – it was a fantasy. It meant nothing, but it was still alluring, glittering at the edges of whatever remained of a fragmented memory. Reality had long since blurred at the edges and he honestly couldn't say where he ended and the "other" began.

The "other" was a strange, alien being that somehow reminded Takato of himself. And, of course, of Jenrya. Because that was the "other's" true form. But there was a little bit of himself, a strange bit that wasn't fractured, wasn't imperfect. He was an outsider to this perfect "other", this weird blend of Jenrya and Takato. The "other" knew of this little hiding spot, where the last remnants of Takato's personality resided. He knew and let Takato stay. Out of pity? Maybe. It wasn't up to Takato to judge Jenrya, to presume to second-guess him.

There was a little bit of himself still left, somehow, untouched by Jenrya. Broken still, yes, but still pure

Within this, he managed to create the little hide-away. Just a white room with no visible exits. Takato sat in the center of the floor, hugging his thin knees to his chest. The longer he was here, the more solid he seemed to become. Like the broken parts trying to reform, trying to find his center once more and not quite succeeding. His dull red eyes stared blankly at a spotless wall.

Jenrya, the "other", came and went. Takato could feel his lifeless gray eyes on him every time he came. Walls didn't stop him. Usually Jenrya would stare for a few moments, and, satisfied with something, then leave.

Jenrya had scared him. He hadn't surely meant it though, when Jenrya had told him that he could leave him behind, "expel" him. The thought of being fully alone, without the "other" wandering in and out, was unbearable. Takato wanted to be held, be comforted like last time, when Jenrya talked to him and asked him questions. But "last time" seemed so far away too, although it had to have been recent. No clock, no time. No sense of the passing of the days and the nights. He was immune to time like Jenrya, but he hadn't known it would be like this, so lonely…Takato might be broken still, but that didn't mean he was unable to understand loneliness.

It was then that he became aware of the fact that he wasn't alone. Jenrya was back.

Takato was afraid. There was the fear that if he dared to speak up, he would be left behind, left completely alone.

But instead of leaving, like usual, Jenrya walked over and rested a cold hand on his shoulder. Takato jumped, shoulder tensing in fear. Was he here to tell him he had to go? To lock the invisible doors against him?

No. You still have a use. As long as a program has a use and its functions outweigh its weaknesses, there is no point in expelling it.

Takato turned his face away, feeling eyes burning with tears that would never fall. So harsh. Jenrya surely didn't mean to be so harsh to him, not like that. Said like that, there was the overhanging, unspoken threat that if he were to fall behind, to do less of what the "other" asked, Jenrya would abandon him, like so many others.

Jenrya's dead eyes, fixed on the boy's huddled form, softened slightly.

I only ask for your cooperation. The rest of you has merged with me. We are together except for…this. He flicked a glance at the barren room. The human Will…different.

I am? I am different? It was his fault that he still had this tiny measure of awareness even now?

It cannot be helped. Jenrya's lips never moved. You were human. That is the fault of nature. Nature made you into an inferior being. It is…

Fate?

There is no such thing as fate.

Then what is it?

This is reality.

And it was. Takato believed what Jenrya told him, despite his initial fears. Takato wanted desperately to please his friend, his friend who now carried many porcelain shards of himself like so many decorations. Jenrya's gray eyes were more blank than before, the eye-whites starting to turn black. Jenrya was Jenrya, but his eyes were somewhat frightening at the same time. Light gray stood out against a growing shade of black, the eyes becoming inhuman. Jenrya was changing. Evolving. Upgrading from his crude avatars of the past.

It is reality that we are one. It is fact that we have our own individual duties. Fate is simply a convenient human word to place responsibility on vague abstraction.

Takato was silent, feeling ashamed nonetheless. He wasn't like Jenrya.

There is nothing in this world like me. I am one of a kind. A higher function that nothing can match. Again, it cannot be helped.

Still…

We must continue with our duties. I have a function, as do you.

Oh yes. Jenrya's function was to eat, to keep eating the energy from the souls that streamed in each night. It…was discomforting to think that…that people died for that, people he didn't even know were snuffed out like flickering candles. So easy. The sparks of their lives were robbed from them and delivered to Jenrya, who waited. Yet Takato did not complain, because whenever Jenrya ate, there was a sense of fulfillment that made him feel like before, like that time when things had been different. He…liked it. Takato liked it a lot. It felt good and he reasoned that if it felt that good, it couldn't be bad.

Exactly. It satisfies both of us. Humans die regardless. With this method, their deaths are not useless.

Jenrya always made such sense. Such cold, logical sense.

You enjoy it. It is a side effect I did not predict, but it is of a positive nature.

Yes, Takato breathed.

Then more you shall have, as will I. The barest of smiles passed across Jenrya's tanned face. But there are those out there who can be threats if left unchecked. They fear us. They want us to fail: for me to starve, for you to be unhappy. If it were in their power, they would seek to destroy me…and kill you as well.

Open fear rang through Takato's frame, followed by a strong desire to protect Jenrya from these…enemies.

We can try to exterminate them on our own, with the resources of the city. But your Digimon would be more effective.

Guilmon? A long pause.

There are a limited number of options available to us. Our failure to dispose of the primary target has shown us that. Ryo Akiyama still lives because of these enemies.

Ryo Akiyama…oh. The boy Takato vaguely remembered seeing in the merge. A faint memory, but it was still there nonetheless. There had been pain then, electrifying like a bolt of lightening had run into their bodies. Of course Jenrya hadn't felt it. Jenrya was above such things. But it had hurt Takato, even through the walls of his white room. He hadn't liked that.

Our range is still limited as I have not expanded enough to have full control over all resources in Tokyo. Your Digimon must help. Jenrya sat down silently next to him, the gray-within-black eyes still fixed on Takato. We will not be safe until that happens.

Takato paused. Will…will you leave me if we're not safe?

There was only silence as Jenrya said nothing.

Open fear coursed through Takato again. No promise, no certainty. Unsafe in itself!

With reluctance, he bent to Jenrya's demands. Jenrya knew what he was doing. He would protect them both from the threat from without.

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Jenrya suddenly awoke with a start.

Cursing himself for not being more on the ball – what if something had happened when he'd been asleep? – Jenrya sat up, rubbing at still blurry eyes. It was nearing morning, the room no longer cast in the same uneasy darkness of last night. There was a grayish light now and he could make out the other people in the living room. Ryo's female guardian remained asleep, but even then he could see how pain drained the color from her skin. He really hoped his Dad came back soon.

Ryo himself still slept. In his sleep he'd sprawled out, shedding the borrowed blanket onto the floor. He didn't appear to notice that it was gone, instead breathing softly. Winding his way around the couch, Jenrya bent down to pick the blanket up and turned, intending to drape it over the other boy. He stopped.

Somehow the edge of Ryo's shirt had been pulled up during the night, probably through tossing and turning. That wasn't what caught his attention and held it. Jenrya could barely make it out in the dim light, but… What is this? It couldn't be what he thought it was, could it? No way. But…yes. There was no mistaking it. He could make out the dark, ugly knitted flesh of a large scar that almost covered Ryo's entire side. The scar was a nasty one, so large that it almost could have been mistaken for an extensive burn. He could only assume that the scar continued up all the way to the boy's shoulder, if he was to judge it just from the size of the visible part.

Jenrya started to feel sick just looking at it. What could a wound that caused a scar this big look like?

What happened to Ryo?

When he summoned the courage to look back more closely, he found Ryo's black eyes were on him.

The expression on his face was deathly cold.

Without speaking, Ryo quickly pulled down his shirt and covered the edges of the scar. It pissed him off that Jenrya saw it. He wasn't supposed to. No one was supposed to! Not even Tamayo. It was "his" mark. But the fact remained that Jenrya had seen one of his many scars and being angry about it wouldn't erase that. Taking a moment to try to calm himself, he closed his eyes. It would be pointless to snap about something like this. But still... It was supposed to be private!

Jenrya remained stunned. Whatever he just saw, it hit close to home. Too close. Too personal. I've never seen him this close to losing control. For a moment, he'd been sure Ryo was going to hit him. But the blow never fell and instead the other boy fought to collect himself before opening his eyes again.

"Don't ever mention that to anyone," Ryo said quietly. Barely suppressed fury colored his voice. "Not to Tamayo. Not to me. Promise me you'll forget what you saw."

Jenrya promised as sincerely as he could, but Ryo knew that forgetting was the last thing on his mind. That brief glimpse of Ryo's scar had been burned into his mind. Curiosity and the beginning of confused pity were already forming on Jenrya's face. Great. Ryo didn't want his pity. It wouldn't make the scars magically vanish nor would it heal the old hurts. Sure now that he wasn't going to lose control, Ryo glanced at his watch. Just an hour or so before dawn.

Jenrya still watched him with concerned eyes. Ryo was determined to pretend nothing had happened. But something had. Something happened, had hurt him so badly that his body couldn't even fully recover. There were scars, both inside and out: but it was the ones within that there were still raw and bleeding even as the ones without knitted. Compassion arose in Jenrya as the glimmers of understanding emerged. I should help him. But how? He didn't know much about the other boy. Ryo told him to forget it. But that wasn't the right choice, was it? So if it wasn't, what was the right one? What if, by trying to help, he only succeeding in making it worse?

Ryo flushed, feeling those pitying eyes on him. This was exactly what he didn't want. It was why he was so damn anal about covering himself up, even if only Tamayo was there. He didn't want that type of compassion; he didn't deserve it from Jenrya or his babysitter. Better to keep it to himself, hide the hurts away out of sight from all but his own obsessive thoughts. Irritably, he spoke up:

"I said drop it."

Jenrya frowned. "Ryo…"

"…I don't want to talk about it," Ryo said. "If I do, then I will. But I don't. So stop looking at me like that."

Jenrya looked away, biting his lip. It didn't feel right to just pretend Ryo was perfectly fine when it was clear he wasn't.

"Dammit," Ryo muttered. He really didn't want to be dealing with this. "Look. My problems are my business. So if I want to keep them to myself, then please respect my privacy."

Jenrya looked ready to press the matter but Ryo only glowered at him until the other boy relented and gave a quiet nod. Ryo refused the blanket that Jenrya offered and got to his feet. Jenrya watched as Ryo knelt by his guardian in the gray light. Tamayo remained asleep, face wan. She hadn't improved much – if at all – during the night. After a moment, Ryo got to his feet. He looked tired, aged beyond his years and exhausted. It was the first time Jenrya had seen Ryo without any smile, faked or not. The dark spots under Ryo's eyes remained.

"You should get some more rest. It'll be a few more hours before my dad comes."

Ryo waved away the advice wearily. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. You look terrible."

"No, I don't," Ryo insisted. He straightened. "I'm up already anyway."

Jenrya made a face. Well, there was nothing he could do about that, aside from trying to force Ryo to get some sleep, which wouldn't work. At the very least he could see to it that his guests had something to eat. Ryo sat down at the counter as the Tamer began to make a quick breakfast. Jenrya set out a bowl of cereal and fruit for the two of them. At first they ate in silence under the dim light of the bar's lamp. Ryo focused on the task of eating, while Jenrya occasionally snuck glances at the older boy sitting across from him.

Ryo didn't look up from his bowl as he finally broke the silence:

"Remember when I first met you?"

Jenrya blinked. He did but that seemed like years ago. This was the last thing he'd expected to be brought up. But deciding that there was probably a point to this, he nodded, "Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"…I was just thinking. I said some weird things. Just realized that I don't know why I said them." Ryo shrugged, stirring the remnants of his cereal in the milk.

Jenrya didn't know what to say. Why was he bringing this up now?

"Didn't know what I wanted to do with my time. I mean, yeah, sure. I knew my time was limited. But I didn't know what I wanted to do with it. So I said some weird things without thinking. I acted like none of it mattered…" Ryo trailed off and continued to swirl about the cereal moodily. "…I don't know. It wasn't important. Just thinking about random things. Forget it."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"It was stupid. I shouldn't have brought it up."

Jenrya dropped it reluctantly. No point trying to press the matter if Ryo would just be evasive about it. The other boy didn't finish his cereal, instead absently toying with the spoon. Jenrya himself wasn't really hungry. Not after the past events, and especially now that his curiosity kept coming back to nag at him. It was becoming obvious that Ryo had other reasons for the way he acted. Closely guarded secrets that even Tamayo would never know.

He can't keep it to himself all the time. The more time Jenrya spent with Ryo, the more he was starting to recognize that all those grins were lies, like forms of defense. He wasn't sure why. Maybe Ryo was afraid of what would happen if people started to take him seriously. But this wasn't something he could keep asking about. Despite his concern, this was something that would have to wait. If Ryo did finally feel up to it, then Jenrya would be ready to listen.

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The sky had become heavily overcast as the morning dragged on. The clouds scuttling across seemed to portend a heavy downpour. Jenrya sighed. Perfect weather for his current mood.

He'd had a lot of explaining to do when his dad had finally come home. Ryo had been kneeling next to Tamayo, changing the dry towel on her forehead for a fresh one when Jenrya's dad had arrived. He stopped, startled to find two strangers in his living room. Jenrya had hurried in before his father could start interrogating Ryo. Jenrya tried to explain as best he could why they were there, carefully avoiding any mention of Digimon. Or Golems. Or just how exactly Ryo's guardian had broken her leg. He wasn't sure if his dad bought his explanation, but he did agree to take Tamayo to the nearest hospital.

Ryo tried to hide it, but his face betrayed his relief. But that moment of brief weakness had passed. Now that Tamayo had been carefully carried to the car and driven away, the dark expression returned. Jenrya wouldn't be surprised if he was busy convincing himself that all the hospitals wouldn't be able to treat her leg. Or had burned down somehow. Or perhaps had been gutted of their personnel by the Golems –

And you're starting to sound just like him, Jenrya reprimanded himself. They could only wait and see. And hope.

At the moment, Jenrya wanted to try to find out more about this threat that Ryo had talked about last night. But Ryo's answers were all essentially the same and there wasn't much he could ask that didn't stray too close to the sensitive topic of the Digital World.

It's either fight or wait for some sort of miracle. Easier said than done, though. Aside from the hostile Digimon – and the false Takato – there didn't seem to be a lot to fight against. Going after the hostile Digimon probably wouldn't amount to anything. So any chance they had was in Takato. Follow the false one. And perhaps they would be led to the real one.

This was just bizarre. Any other Sunday and he wouldn't have even been thinking of any of this. But everything had changed once Takato had vanished…

But he can't be the reason for all of this. Ryo pretty much said that this was in motion years in advance.

Jenrya sighed. There was no choice. None of this could have been avoided. He still had hope. They would have to just work with what knowledge they had and hoped it all worked out.

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Yamaki had moved quickly. Nagamora would give him that.

By morning, Yamaki returned. Glaring pointedly at the unmarked vans, at the soldiers and at Nagamora, he walked right through the blockade, leading his own team of technicians into the building's front entrance. It had been rather ballsy – the soldiers had their rifles trained on the group the entire time – but there had been no order to fire. There was simply no reason.

After all, it would've only been a matter of time before Yamaki would begin to get suspicious. The important thing was to keep him, and any other interference, out of the premises when the Juggernaut was doing its job, which was primarily at night. Right now the entire building would be practically stained from the residue of thousands of Golems. Nagamora was confident that Yamaki would be hard pressed to find anything in that mess any time soon. But the fact remained that Yamaki would have to be dealt with. Even leashed, he'd simply grown too dangerous.

Yamaki had just disappeared through the front doors with his entourage when Kincaid joined Nagamora. She came up beside him, glancing up.

"You're sure it's okay?"

"Perfectly. But it's nearing time that he'll need to be seen to."

"Are you going to do it or am I?"

"You will. He trusts you more than me," Nagamora replied. He paused. "Although perhaps I should be close by when you take care of him. He'll attempt to resist, and –"

"– you don't want to see anything happening to me," Kincaid finished. She flashed him a grin. "I'm a big girl."

"It's precisely that attitude that always worries me, my dear."

Kincaid only rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, tickled. Nagamora shook his head. He wished Kincaid would be less impulsive. Or at least show some concern for her well-being. Back in the Digital World, she'd been so confident, so reckless that it even bordered on suicidal. He had never told her that, naturally. If there was one thing she would have taken offense in, it would be being compared to human practices, especially if he was the one doing the comparisons.

"I just wish you would be more careful in your approaches."

"I know that."

This was an old argument. "So why don't you ever listen to me?"

"Because I can take care of myself, so I don't need unnecessary advice," Kincaid said. "A human without a Digimon is a cakewalk."

"…I'm not just saying it for the sake of hearing myself speak. I really do want you to be careful. I mean it when I say that I don't want anything happening to you."

Kincaid fell silent at this. It made her uneasy to hear that kind of open honesty from anyone, even from her partner of several years. She had never had a life-mate – didn't intend to either – but she could admit that she liked Nagamora well enough. He was definitely life-mate material, she had to admit. Even when they both shared these misshapen, two-legged bodies, the Founder was still in there. Still the same, even concerning these old exchanges. He certainly acted like he thought they were life-mates. Ruffled, she changed the subject:

"When should I deal with him?"

Nagamora looked put-out, as always, when she retreated. But he went back to business. "In a few days. Perhaps Wednesday. Preferably no later than the end of the week. Will you have time from your duties to do this?"

"I'll manage. It won't take long anyway."

"Please be neat about it. Make sure that you get the body out of the building without being seen. You can dispose of what's left however you see fit, but we can't have this being messy."

"How're you going to explain Yamaki's disappearance?" Kincaid toyed with a lock of her vibrant purple hair, lips curled in a smile. This was safer grounds than the conversation only a few seconds ago. She'd much rather talk about business than Nagamora's concerns for her.

"He'll be transferred. I've shown myself enough there that they'll recognize me as his superior. They won't have any reason to suspect anything if you take care of him neatly."

"On it."

Nagamora pursed his lips – telling her again to be careful wouldn't do anything. The Deceiver would simply brush it off, laugh it off as she always did when he got too serious and earnest for her comfort. Still, he would be sure to be within the area when she finally went in to take care of Yamaki. That was the least he could do. Kincaid would simply have to humor him.

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The air felt different. Strange.

Renamon's eyes narrowed. The air felt like it was run through with electricity, more than would be normal with a coming storm. And while there was a storm coming, that wasn't the cause for why her hackles were rising. Perched on the wall surrounding the back of Ruki's house, the fox-type surveyed the city. The haunting lights from last night hadn't escaped her notice. Neither did the static in the air.

Something is here. A large Digimon had bio-emerged recently but there had been no sign of it. But whatever it was, it was busy. It was more than likely responsible for the way the sky was charged, and the sudden incoming storm.

After the meeting with Ryo Akiyama, she had a private aside with Ruki. What the strange human boy said seemed to fit what was happening now. Renamon had tried to fill in the gaps with what she remembered of her time in the Digital World. She remembered some talk of a Council. And that they had been looking for members of a Line to carry out the Council's plans. But that was all she knew.

"It's starting to rain – why're you sittin' out here, Fox Face?"

Renamon looked down. Impmon stood just under the fence.

"I'm trying to think."

"Don't strain yerself."

"I don't mean to." Renamon said, more in habit than anything else. "Thought you would've left a while ago."

Impmon looked cross at this but shrugged. "I was plannin' to watch the fireworks, but that doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"So you really are leaving?"

" 'Course I am. But I thought…" the darkly furred Rookie made a face, and reluctantly continued. "…that maybe I might drop by one last time. See how things were holdin' up."

Renamon looked down sharply at this. Surely he hadn't just implied…? "I never knew you were sentimental."

Impmon sputtered angrily at this, his cheeks flushing a faint shade of red as he swore up and down that he was no such thing and that if Renamon was implying that he was a weak, wishy-washy Digimon, she was going to be sorry. But his thrown insults held less bark then they usually did. He was the first to avoid her gaze, muttering empty curses.

Renamon sat patiently through it. "Being sentimental isn't necessarily a bad thing." She held up a paw before Impmon could go on another tirade. "My choice is to stay here, with Ruki. If you desire to leave, then that is your choice. Perhaps it might be the smarter of the two choices."

Impmon's expression shifted to an unfamiliar one. He shuffled his feet and coughed.

"Well. Maybe. It…wasn't an easy one. I was goin' to stay. But it's got too dangerous."

"I know. But if this continues, there won't be anywhere to retreat to."

"…I know," Impmon said quietly. He looked uncharacteristically serious. "But I still can't stay. Otherwise I won't last much longer."

Renamon tilted her head. That was strange. As far as she knew, the other Digimon generally ignored Impmon, yet he was acting like he'd just had a death warrant signed. "What do you mean?"

"I was offered a deal that I decided I didn't like. The choice was either obey or be deleted." Impmon scowled. "Didn't like the choices. Gonna hightail it outta here while I still can."

"Who offered this? What exactly did they want?"

Impmon fidgeted uncomfortably. "That other 'Tamer' did. He came a few days ago. Said that I'd be given the chance t'join their side and fight for them, that I'd be forgiven for something I don't even remember doin'. He said that if I didn't, he'd be forced to delete me personally."

Other Tamer…? Renamon froze. That could only mean Takato – the one they had encountered not long ago. Her claws dug into the wall as she leaned forward, suddenly attentive. Impmon might be able to help…

"Did he have goggles? Blue eyes?"

Impmon nodded. "Yeah."

"We need to find him. Could you – "

"I ain't actin' as bait."

Well, that had been her last idea. "Impmon, it's important that we find this imposter – he could lead us to the real Takato."

"Sorry, but I don't wanna play hero. I'm leavin'."

Renamon couldn't do anything, aside from forcing him. And that wouldn't be wise, because then he might be tempted to actually take the fake-Takato up on the offer and join his side. Her furred shoulders fell. Then Ruki and she would have to find some other way to find this Digimon and track him. Inwardly sighing, she nodded.

"Very well."

"I guess…uh…good luck," he said awkwardly. "Be seein' you 'round when things settle down."

He quickly hurried away before Renamon could say anything. She watched him go without a word.

Let's just hope we have any luck left…

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Kincaid watched as the sky buckled under the clouds' weight and released a torrent of gray rain. The Shield was at work. She knew the symptoms. Whenever he was forging a masterpiece, the weather always reacted like this. Dark skies. Heavy rain. The black storm-clouds stretched as far as the eye could see. He was nearly done with his work. He's been working ever since he got here. The Deceiver was impressed. Zudomon, of the tainted Digimon, had been one of those most hard hit by their human partner's eliminations.

But now? He was one of the most stable of the remaining group. Greymon looked to be promising but he had been reckless, uncontrollable. So he was gone now. It was just as well, Kincaid decided. If he hadn't disobeyed the Council's order then, he would've done it later, at a more crucial point.

Zudomon must be almost done with his creation. It would be the largest of its kind ever forged, both in the Digital and Real Worlds. The easiest way to describe it was an artificial barrier: to be quaint, a shield. It would be selectively permeable; only Digimon and Golems would be able to pass through it. The humans would be penned in Tokyo, and any outside attempts at help would be repelled. Once that was up, the Shield only had to maintain the upkeep of the barrier. And once he was finished with his creation, any attempts at secrecy would be dropped.

It wouldn't matter then if the humans knew. It would be too late – they would have nowhere to run.

And then I would be done. The disposal of the bodies left by the Golems would be left to the Juggernaut. Her job would be over. As would be the Founder's. She supposed she and Nagamora would still be required to stay behind to supervise. Nagamora would probably be relieved. He had been here the longest, working alone. A rest would be beneficial for him.

Now that she thought about it, he hadn't rested much in the Digital World either. Maybe it was time for an old war hero to take a vacation. A real one.

So how am I going to deal with Yamaki? Well, she had plenty of excuses to get him away from the others. The room would have to be sound-proofed for her to work though. One of the many meeting rooms in the tower would work. They were all soundproofed and several of them were so large that they occupied almost a full floor. She'd try to do it by Wednesday: who knew if he got lucky and found evidence that would bring him to the Juggernaut? Better to silence him before he started getting loud.

There was also the matter of those traitorous pests. The Digimon who broke the taboo and associated freely with the human children. They were stupid – surely they had learned from the previous Purges. Kincaid hadn't been pleased with her servant when he'd returned missing one of the Ogremon. The children, she had said, were for the Juggernaut to deal with. His duty was to do as he was told and nothing different.

Speaking of which, she was going to have to send him out again to look for Impmon. He should have given his answer by now…his silence could only mean his refusal. Kaminmon would have to delete him before he sided with those children. Pity, that. It was a waste, but there was nothing else to be done. Obviously years of exile hadn't taught him anything.

"It's raining pretty hard, isn't it?"

Kincaid turned. Reika stood behind her with two cups of coffee. Kincaid accepted the offer, grimacing mentally at the bitter taste. She could swallow human food, but just barely. Coffee had never been one of those easy to take. It was with an effort that she didn't spit it right back out.

"Yeah. It's cool when it rains this hard."

Reika sipped from her own coffee, shooting a quiet stare over the rim at the technician. Kincaid was up to something. It was just a feeling, but it grew by the hour. "So what did you think of the blockade?" she asked conversationally.

Kincaid shot a sharp look at Reika, but the model had no other expression on her face other than one of idle curiosity. Wondering if Reika was more observant than she appeared, she turned back to the rain-slicked window.

"I dunno. Don't think it concerns me. That's Yamaki's business, not mine."

"What concerns Yamaki concerns us too," Reika said.

"Well, whatever happened, I'm sure Nagamora and Yamaki can work something out."

Reika paused. She remembered Nagamora watching them last night when they left the blockade. Thinking about it, she didn't trust him anymore than she trusted the foreigner standing next to her. "I don't know. They always seem like they're at odds with each other…"

Kincaid only gave a laugh. "You know how men are – can't help having pissing contests with each other."

"Yeah, but Yamaki's not that petty. He cares more about Hypnos than anything else." Reika stared at her coffee. Hypnos had always been his priority, even when she first met him. It was the only thing that kept him running.

"Nagamora's his benefactor. He'll know what's best for Hypnos."

"So why did he try to shut Yamaki out from the building? And all of us? He should know that Yamaki's probably one of the most important people involved."

Kincaid's eyes narrowed. These questions were taking a dangerous turn. This conversation was going to have to end before it went into places she didn't want it to. Finishing her own coffee – fighting down the reflex to gag in disgust the entire time – Kincaid shrugged and threw the empty cup out.

"You're asking the wrong person. Thanks for the coffee," Kincaid said, inwardly scowling at the fact that she'd had to choke it down and half-convinced that Reika had given her it on purpose. "I better get back to work helping with the investigations. Busy girl and all that!"

With that said, Kincaid hurriedly left.

She's up to something… Reika frowned. The way she avoided certain questions was one indicator. Another was the way that she favored Nagamora; perhaps she had inherited it from Yamaki, but Reika found that she really didn't like – or trust – Hypnos' benefactor very much. He was as unnerving as Kincaid was once you really looked at her. Reika couldn't understand it. How could Yamaki be blind to Kincaid? For a second, there was a swell of the beginnings of jealousy. Could Yamaki and Kincaid be…?

No, that was stupid. Yamaki could barely put up with Kincaid for any extended amount of time. The idea of them having relations behind Reika's back was ridiculous. Besides, she had no reason to be jealous. Yamaki had made it clear that there was nothing between him and Reika other than the sharing of beds.

Still. Something was funny. The longer Reika came into contact with Kincaid, the longer her instincts began to protest that something was wrong with her co-worker. It wasn't right, the subtle way Kincaid moved, the very way she talked. It was alien. Inhuman. And it wasn't because she was a foreigner. Her instincts were telling her that no natural person moved like this, felt like this. Reika bit her lip. Perhaps this was just a baseless suspicion. But with something this serious, she was rarely wrong.

I should warn Yamaki. Even if he did look at her like she was an idiot, this was worth it. Yamaki had a right to know that there was the possibility that Kincaid might have ulterior motives. Or might not be completely loyal. Yamaki had made many enemies, but Reika didn't know if some were serious enough to send in operatives to undermine him. Or even kill him?

No. That was stretching it.

But the fact remained that Reika was growing increasingly convinced that Kincaid didn't belong. She headed toward the elevators, intent on finding Yamaki.

Kincaid by this time had reached the Yuggoth deck. She wasn't pleased with the near-confrontation with Reika. Reika definitely sensed something. All the more reason to get rid of Yamaki before she reports me. First thing Wednesday morning, she promised herself. Less than seventy-two hours for Reika to find anything solid to base any suspicions on. It wouldn't be hard to avoid Reika until Wednesday morning.

Most of the investigation team was focused on the primary data banks and the Yuggoth system – Yamaki had wanted to make sure that those were undamaged from whatever had been happening last night. Kincaid worked to the side, hidden by one of the large consoles. She needed time to think and the best way to do it was to keep out of the way. She loved to tweak these humans, but now wasn't the time. Yamaki could still be a problem, even in his remaining days. The Juggernaut would continue to absorb energy from the Golems that came from Tokyo and its outskirts. Yamaki couldn't be coming by every night and raising a commotion.

There's got to be some way to distract him. Yamaki couldn't be bribed. At least not with human money, not when he had plenty pouring in from his supporters. There had to be some other way to distract him during the night-hours. Her mind drifted as she ran the hand-held scanner over the computer's array of wires. What did he do at night?

…Wait.

He sometimes left with Reika. Alone.

He's not affectionate. So it's for the intercourse then. Perhaps she could distract him for the remaining nights, offer her body to him long enough that he wouldn't be in any position to notice the lights. That was an option, but the idea of it was disgusting. Mating with a human? It made even her feel ill and she considered herself flexible. Nagamora would be furious if he found out what she was considering.

The idea of the Founder in full blood-rage made Kincaid quail inwardly.

Mating with Yamaki would be a last resort. Better if she could get someone else to do it. She didn't even know if she could distract Yamaki long enough that he wouldn't look out the window and see the river of lights. So it would be much wiser to have someone else do the mating for her, someone the blond man trusted. And who else was already in that position, but Reika? Reika was probably more experienced then her in the matters of human intercourse anyway. Yes, Reika was obviously the better distraction.

Yamaki must use intercourse with Reika as a type of stress relief. Well, that made things easier. Kincaid would simply have to make it a living hell for Yamaki to be in the same room with her. She would dog after him, annoy him to no end and create such a headache that he would have no choice but to leave with Reika. That really shouldn't be hard, not with all the other problems that Yamaki had to deal with over the past week. She would simply be another straw on the camel's back.

Spying Yamaki coming onto the deck, Kincaid pasted an impish grin on her face and bounced out of her hiding spot, heading straight for the blonde.

Time to do her job.

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"Ruki just called."

Ryo looked up. "What'd she want?"

"She wants to know if we should try to do a search tonight. Like, try to find any wild Digimon and see if we can find that fake Takato."

"Sounds like a start."

"Okay, hold on." Jenrya directed his voice into the phone receiver. "Yeah. We can do that. When do you want to do this?"

"Soon as it gets dark?" Ruki said on the other end of the line. "We can start searching close to home and widen our range as we go. We could meet up around nine or something. I mean, I can search pretty late. Mom doesn't care."

"Nine sounds fine. My dad had to take Ryo's guardian to the hospital, so I'll be able to stay out late too."

"What happened?"

Jenrya glanced at Ryo, but the other boy wasn't looking at him any longer. He was looking out the window at the rain pelting the window, expression unreadable. "Long story. Basically she fell from a two-story window and broke her leg."

Ruki went silent for a moment. "…Jenrya, I'm not in the mood for jokes."

"Neither am I. I'm not joking."

"I want an explanation when we meet up." Ruki said coolly. "Anyway, if you find anything before then, call me."

"I will. Same goes for you." Jenrya hung up, bowing his head. It sounded easy enough, but the chances of finding anything were still small. Takato was gone, and so was Guilmon. But instead of looking for them, they were going to run after the fake Takato, risk another encounter with him. Let's just hope things work out.

Ryo hadn't moved from his position. Jenrya sighed. He honestly couldn't keep up with the other boy's constant mood changes.

"Come on, let's do something."

Ryo glanced at him. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Maybe we could just, like, look around ourselves. See if we find anything."

"Fine. Whatever." Ryo had a humorless grin on his face. "Nothing like wasting time."

Jenrya resisted the urge to retort that leaving the house was better than sitting inside doing nothing. Ryo probably hadn't meant that. He still had a long way to go in understanding Ryo. This was just one of those things he'd have to get used to. He wasn't going to be so quick to judge as he had been when he'd first met Ryo. Jenrya went over and got an umbrella as Ryo got to his feet and checked the large cut he'd gotten last night. It had fully scabbed over. Jenrya waited by the door; Terriermon had joined them, now perched on his Tamer's shoulder.

Ryo joined them. Jenrya held the umbrella as Ryo walked as his side. The wet street outside was practically empty: rain pattered heavily on the sidewalk in sheets. Ryo frowned. Something felt weird. Like…something was off with the air. It wasn't the rain. Something else…

"Do you feel that?"

Jenrya blinked. "Feel what?"

"The air."

Jenrya stared at him in confusion, but Terriermon nodded after tilting his head for a moment. "Yeah, I feel it too. Kind of like it's charged with static or something?'

"Yeah. It shouldn't feel like this," Ryo glanced up at the black sky above, frowning.

"You're sure it's not just the incoming storm?" Jenrya asked.

Both Terriermon and Ryo shook their heads.

"That's a different kind of feeling," Terriermon said. "This is stronger. Doesn't feel right for a normal storm. More like a digital field, except it's too weak for that." The bunny-Digimon shrugged. "Don't know what it means though."

"Don't look at me," Ryo said when Jenrya turned to him. "I don't know either."

"It's probably not something good," Jenrya shifted the handle of the umbrella in his fingers. "Maybe it's another sign of the weakening rift you were talking about?"

"Could be."

The three walked in silence under the shelter of the umbrella. Terriermon kept on the lookout for any digital activity in the area as the two boys fell into thought. Jenrya stole a glance at Ryo. What had just happened? How could both Ryo and Terriermon sense something that he couldn't? It didn't make sense. Ryo was human, like Jenrya. Maybe he just picked up that sensitivity from the Digital World? That was one guess, but he wasn't going to ask. Not now. Not after what happened this morning. He wouldn't get an answer.

The strange feeling in the air still bothered Ryo. Now that he thought about it, Terriermon was right. It did almost feel like a digital field, except more widespread. Stretched. Unnatural. They were doing something – perhaps it might just be the rift weakening day by day but this was too sudden. The wonky weather was probably a result from the rift. But not this. He wouldn't have noticed it then.

Ryo tried to remember what he'd seen and heard back…back then. It wasn't pleasant, those memories. Even the "safe" ones. The specifics he hadn't known. Something about a governing Council. They had to be using Tokyo as a fuel source for whatever was going to make the breach. But that was about all he knew. It didn't explain anything.

Don't know why I thought I could be such a big help. When it came down to it, Ryo didn't know anything that could be useful. It had been arrogant of him to think that he knew everything that had been going on. It was just like all the things he'd said when he'd walked into that classroom days previous. He didn't even know why he had acted like that. Ryo's thoughts turned to Tamayo. Was she okay? He hoped so. It was his fault that her leg was broken. But still, it might've been far worse if he hadn't taken the lesser path. But the fact remained that he was the one responsible for her leg, good intentions or not.

Then there was the problem of this morning's incident. Ryo swallowed down the anger before it could rise again. Someone would have seen it eventually. At least Tamayo had no idea what scars covered his body or what he had suffered only a year ago. If he could spare anyone, it would be his guardian. She was innocent, after all. She had no place here, in the midst of everything.

It's probably too late though. We're in too deep to be pulling back out. Ryo didn't want to think of it like that, but that was how it was. He would also have to consider the fact that it might not just be him that would eventually die, but others like Jenyra, Ruki and Tamayo.

It was times like this he started to wish he hadn't managed to escape the Digital World. If he had died, he wouldn't be stewing with these worries, these fears.

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Jenrya? Takato asked timidly.

What is it?

Are we going to be okay?

Yes. Our survival is prioritized above all else. Jenrya paced about the room, turning his gray-within-black eyes about the door-less room that the Will hid in. His alien eyes returned to Takato, piercing. I assure you that we will survive any attempts at assault.

Takato trembled. There would be attacks. That was a given. It was fact. Reality. Those outside hated both of them. That was the only reason he could see for the desire to kill Takato and starve Jenrya. The idea that there were people out there who genuinely wanted this scared Takato, almost more than Jenrya scared him. Jenrya could be loving, protective, but he could be cold, merciless. Ruthless. He killed without a blink. Takato remembered killing those two guards at the harbor.

Jenrya had done that, but so had, to some extent, Takato. There was a point where Takato couldn't tell who was responsible for what anymore.

Jenrya looked down at his hands. They had turned gray in the glaring white light of the room. Other changes were happening to Jenrya as a result of their merge: now his hands were evolving, the very tips of his fingers becoming jagged claws instead of human nails. But it wasn't organic, those claws. Takato could see that. Jenrya wasn't alive anymore. Jenrya couldn't be. Those claws looked more like machinery, hinged yet as smooth as the coils that Jenrya was really made of.

Another side effect. Jenrya said. His lips remained closed. But to you, it will not matter.

Takato watched as the blue-haired boy rounded the small room, finally returning to stand behind him. Takato didn't dare turn around. He was afraid. Jenrya brought fear among other things. Jenrya had said that he would only be rejected, "expelled" so long as he didn't cooperate. He had already promised his cooperation. Promised it and whatever else he could give to Jenrya. But Jenrya was so powerful, so hungry and cold that he even scared Takato…

I know that. My…changes are involuntary. The merge created some errors in my avatar-programming.

But being with Takato couldn't make Jenrya so hungry, could it?

No. That is my duty to absorb what I am given. Jenrya's hand was on Takato's shoulder, who jumped at the unexpected pricking from those claw-tips. But now there is something you must do.

Whatever Jenrya wanted.

Jenrya's eyes slanted away, focused on some other point as he "spoke". We must protect ourselves. You agreed we would use your Digimon to help us. He is already tainted from your presence, so his use as a tool is permitted.

I stained him by being human.

Takato hung his head in shame. As always, he wished that he were anything but human. It was because he was an inferior human that he contaminated just about everything he came into contact with. It was his touch that made it so Guilmon wouldn't be of any use to the cause that Jenrya was serving. It was his touch that was at fault, just as it had been those other kids who'd been in contact with Digimon. Humans were the ones to blame. The human touch was vile.

It is in the past. Guilmon was contaminated by you: there is nothing to be done about that now. But he still can be useful even now.
You know this.

…Yes, Takato did know. He knew what would have to be done. He knew it, had already agreed to do it, but still felt the ghost of guilt. When (if such a time had ever existed) he had been unbroken, without the constant presence of Jenrya, he might not have done this, might've refused. Nothing would budge him. But now it only took a silent stare now and Takato would meekly submit, shaking noiselessly. Jenrya held all the power over his friend. It was because Jenrya cared that he made him do these things. Jenrya made him hurt and kill because he cared.

Exactly. It is for our own safety. You are in no position to govern us.

Takato knew that as well.

Jenrya bent down, a little comforting smile on his face. So trust me then. I know exactly what must be done. His strange eyes never blinked. You only need to follow me. Obedience is all I ask and all you must give. I will never abandon you if you just give me this little thing.

Takato turned and looked up at his friend. Jenrya was right, as always. The claws tightened in an imitation of a caring squeeze. Jenrya was all that mattered, wasn't he? Even when he began to change, warp, evolve into a higher being, he was still Jenrya. Those faint memories of other humans, of Guilmon, paled in comparison.

Obedience. Takato already promised that. But obedience called for him to repeat it again. And however many times was necessary.

I'll give it to you, Jenrya, Takato offered an unfocused, glazed smile up at his best friend. For you, I'll do it.

Jenrya nodded. That answer was expected. The Will was ready for the first task: the Juggernaut had been concerned that when the Will had begun to awake, it would be rebellious and try to gain control. But calculations had proved correct and whatever little portion remained of Takato Matsuda's consciousness was obedient. The Juggernaut reached over and held out his clawed hand. The Will gingerly accepted it, staring at Jenrya as he closed his fingers around Takato's.

You're a good boy, Takato: you want to protect me. You're the only one I would ask this of.

Jenrya closed his eyes. But now it's time to do what you promised. In order to protect us, you must make your Digimon evolve. Evolution is the only way we can progress. It's the only way to survive. And we will survive no matter what happens.

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Voices. There were voices. The loudest was Takato's: cold, commanding and confident. Takato was busy. But when Guilmon tried to ask with what, he was hushed. So after awhile, Guilmon simply stopped asking and sat down miserably, drowning in silence as the buzzing in his head grew louder and louder.

It must be around late evening. He had crawled toward the end of the empty tunnel, near the end where the construction yard was. Rain drummed endlessly on the wet dirt. But the buzzing in his head didn't stop. Takato's voice made the maddening buzz better, made it easier to focus and less deafening. But Takato didn't talk with him like he used to, didn't just talk about random stuff like he always did. Instead his words were clipped and he spoke only when necessary. Over the course of a few hours, Guilmon had grown increasingly dependent on the sound of his Tamer's voice. It kept the buzzing bees in his head at bay long enough that he wouldn't start trying to do something dumb and bang his head into a wall in an attempt to dash them out.

There were other voices too, but none were as loud as Takato's. There was a faint one that sounded like an echo of his Tamer, but it was different. There was true fear in it, other mixed emotions that Takato's lacked. But Guilmon could never focus on that echo.

"It's time."

Guilmon raised his head. "Time?" he asked, but they were words that he couldn't hear. The buzz drowned them out. He felt his jaws move but couldn't hear the words.

"Yes. You're going to help protect me. After all, aren't I more important than anything else?"

Well, yes, but…the others?

"They won't like what I've become. They'll try to hurt me because of that."

Blind anger clouded Guilmon's mind, a smoldering rage that he hadn't even known he was capable of. No one would touch Takato, not while he was capable of defending him! Not Takato's parents, not Jenrya, Ruki, Renamon or Terriermon. No one! Not if they were going to hurt him. Takato was everything to him. Guilmon would willingly do what it took to protect his Tamer.

"I know you will. But you have to become stronger so you can protect me. So it's time."

Off in the center of the Juggernaut, the white Digivice began to glow – icy light spilled forth from its LCD screen, alighting the shifting coils, the pale, unmoving face of the boy's small frame, as still as a statue. It throbbed as both the Juggernaut and the Will opened the link and poured energy into it.

Guilmon howled as burning energy suddenly filled his limbs. It hurt! It burned! More than anything else he had felt in his existence…never before had he felt such pain. His yellow eyes rolling, the Rookie thrashed as Takato forced the evolution. Things were stretching, warping within Guilmon. The Digimon could feel the flood of energy changing his make-up. Changing his very code. He fell onto his stomach roughly. It was tearing at him, twisting, and tearing! But he could see the change happening with his own eyes as he twitched in agony.

His fore-claws stretched, growing even as the color of his hide changed. Red melted away into an inky black. The ebony tide started at his claws and crept up his arms and hind legs even as a mane of thick silver hair sprouted from his back. Small teeth elongated into jagged knife-like fangs. Bone was pushing up from above his eyes as his snout changed, growing more angular. Guilmon kicked, rolling onto his side. His eyes flared open for a brief moment: they were fading from warm umber to a cold, merciless yellow as the buzzing increased to a deafening extent.

Pain took over as the forced evolution continued.

After awhile, the Digimon's pained cries died out. The large hulking form rested against the concrete wall of the tunnel, panting slightly. The claws trying to rip him apart retreated, leaving only Takato's voice and the maddening buzz in his skull. There was also a newfound strength running through him. Even in the Digimon's increased size, it seemed like he was swelling, too small to hold whatever energy now filled him.

He couldn't understand it. But there wasn't a need to. All that mattered was Takato's voice.

"The evolution is complete. This state will have to do until more energy can be spared for the next further evolution."

Black Growlmon grunted. What would he have to do to protect his Tamer? To protect him and shake off the ever-present insects swarming in his brain, swamping him with their hums? It was making him unable to think, to focus and driving him desperate for a way to shake them. Only Takato's voice provided any shelter and the Champion clung to his words feverishly.

"We will strike our enemies before they can do the same to us." Takato said soothingly. "But they aren't together right now. We'll wait until they are and then we move."

Black Growlmon understood perfectly. Perhaps they had once been "friends", but not any longer. All threats to Takato were enemies and all enemies were the same. Takato, while hurt, had other things he had to do. He couldn't fend off the threats by himself forever. That was where his Digimon came in. Black Growlmon would protect his Tamer no matter what. Even now, the Champion could feel his Tamer's apprehension – but he had no way of knowing that it was false, projected for his benefit by the Juggernaut. All he knew was that it angered him. His Tamer shouldn't have any reason to be afraid.

The anger that Guilmon had felt only a few moments ago couldn't even be compared to the brightly burning rage Black Growlmon felt now. He hated them for making his Tamer feel like this, for hurting him. They had hurt him somehow. They did nothing, lied to him, pretended to be innocent when they were indeed guilty. It was their fault. If they hadn't been here, Takato wouldn't be hurt, or scared. Takato would be here with him, in the flesh, right now if it hadn't been for them.

Black Growlmon hated them all, just as he despised the incessant buzzing that only fueled his newfound hatred.

To be continued…
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