Digital Shuffle
By famirad

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own Digimon Tamers, this fic is for fun.
Author's Note: This chapter is Mostly Takato/BlackGrowlmon/Juggernaut focused.

Bold for implied feelings, mostly for the Juggernaut
"Dialogue" is similar to telepathy

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Digital Shuffle
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(Rebooting Up Systems)

Takato liked dreaming.

Okay, he didn't like the fact he knew he was dreaming. Still, they were nice dreams, mostly…even if his current one was already a dream within a dream. He knew this because Jenrya wasn't here; the white room wasn't here either. So that meant he was awake – yeah right – or that this was just another dream. Another lapse. Either way, Takato was determined to enjoy this rare moment of peace and quiet while he could. There were no thousand and one voices, no thousand and one eyes. Just his own eyes, his own single consciousness.

Just himself.

For now, Takato was in complete control.

In this dream, he was showing Guilmon around the bakery. Takato didn't remember much about the little bakery, only that it existed, and was very special to the two of them for some reason or another. He couldn't remember what the owners looked like either, but maybe he would remember later. What they looked like probably wasn't too important to the dream-within-a-dream anyway, he thought. Maybe they weren't worth remembering. Maybe he forgot for a reason.

Of course Takato remembered very well what Guilmon looked like. His partner had the most beautiful hide of black scales in the entire world, like tiny shards of obsidian or onyx embedded over powerful muscles. Takato hadn't actually ever seen onyx with his own eyes, but Jenrya had shown it to him with his borrowed-eyes and borrowed-memories. That was even better than actually seeing them.

Guilmon's acid-yellow eyes fixed on the oven his Tamer held open.

"Oven?"

"Oven," Takato agreed. He nodded at the open door. "You gotta have one of these to make bread, Guilmon! I can teach you how, y'know. But if we're baking together, you need your hands clean."

Guilmon looked down at his claws. They were splattered with something glistening red in the light. Guilmon carefully licked them clean before holding them out to his Tamer for inspection.

"Sorry," Guilmon mumbled. His dark hide deepened to pitch black in his version of a blush.

"Don't worry about it," said Takato. "Let's start with the baking lessons!"

Takato gave him some dough that materialized from nowhere and began showing his partner how to shape it. At first he cupped his partner's claws with his own hands, patting the dough together until Guilmon had it down and could do it on his own without the help. Very soon they had a trio of lumpy dough mounds ready on a tray.

"We have Guilmon Bread, Takato Bread and Jenrya Bread," Guilmon said happily. He paused, noticing Takato had extra dough still left. "What's that one called, Takato?"

The boy looked down in surprise at the excess dough. Takato thought he measured the ingredients out perfectly, so there shouldn't be anything left, especially not this much. But he wasn't Jenrya, so he had apparently calculated wrong. He leaned over the counter, puzzled. The extra dough looked misshapen, but it reminded him almost of Jenrya…except this version didn't have the right black candy eyes waiting on the counter. It was kinda ugly and it made him uneasy. If Jenrya saw this…this thing, he'd definitely get angry.

"Just a mistake," Takato said. He hurriedly squashed it into a shapeless mush.

Guilmon tilted his head, snout wrinkling. "If it's a mistake, then why didn't you destroy it earlier?"

"…I-I don't know."

"You didn't want to?" Guilmon asked. He sounded confused. "Maybe you should tell Jenrya."

Takato shook his head. "Let's just go back to the baking lesson," he said instead.

"What about Jenrya..?"

"Jenrya doesn't have to know."

His partner went thoughtfully silent at this but said nothing. They loaded the tray into the large oven as Takato showed Guilmon how to set the timer. Now all they had to do now was wait, which was never one of the easy parts – yet these days he found himself more and more patient, as if he had all the time in the world. Takato turned to Guilmon, who was intently watching the oven. Looking at the dark Rookie, alone in the cramped little bakery, he suddenly felt a flash of sadness. He looked at his partner and he saw for a brief second that only death and oblivion was projected for both of their futures.

Takato suddenly reached out and gave Guilmon a great big hug.

"What's wrong?" Guilmon asked, surprised, the surprise immediately turning into alarm. "What's wrong? How come you're crying?"

"I'm not crying," Takato dashed away brimming tears with the back of his hand. "I…I just want what's best for all of us. We'll always be friends, right? No matter what?"

Guilmon awkwardly patted his Tamer's back, careful not to scratch him with razor-sharp claws. His Tamer had no smell these days and sometimes the only way he could tell Takato was even alive was to touch him. Guilmon knew he himself didn't smell very good these days. He smelled like fire and brimstone and that strange metallic copper smell that came from his latest meals. Luckily Takato couldn't smell very well anymore, although he could see better than ever. So he probably knew about Guilmon's change of diet, although he hadn't confronted him about it yet.

"Why would you even ask that?" Guilmon whispered. "Where you go, I'll follow. You know I live for you. We're partners."

Takato closed his eyes as if tired. "…Thank you, Guilmon."

"I won't ever betray you," Guilmon said with resolution. He brightened. "And I'll kill anyone who has or will."

The Tamer wasn't sure if that would be necessary and he said just that.

"Just in case, Takato," Guilmon replied cheerfully, offering a toothy, fang-filled grin. "Can't hurt to be prepared."

The dream skipped a bit here, freezing up. It looked like this dream wasn't too sturdy, and next thing Takato knew, it skipped to his school. Guilmon had since grown in size, having digivolved some time between then and now. Takato had to crane his head up to look at his partner: he had to be at over twenty feet tall, rippling with muscles underneath the glimmering black hide. Foreboding spikes protruded above golden eyes, a fluffy white mane running down his back. Takato had to jog to keep up with his partner's long strides.

" – if only we could do more," Black Growlmon was saying.

"Do more what?"

Black Growlmon shot a surprised look at his Tamer. "Why, do more about our enemies; I say we shouldn't be slaves to this Council… whatever trash they're feeding us leaves us open to attack. We should just take control ourselves."

"But…but – that is – you…" Takato sputtered. "Are you saying Jenrya's doing all this wrong?"

"No!" said Black Growlmon hurriedly, glancing about as if afraid Jenrya would come walking in on them any second. "Of course not. I wouldn't dream of it."

They reached the inner courtyard of Takato's school. Black Growlmon took to prowling in the shadows cast by the still trees, clearly agitated and nervous, tail swishing stiffly behind him. Takato crossed his arms, watching his partner.

"Maybe we could talk to Jenrya about this," Black Growlmon mused, thinking out loud. "Maybe we can convince him."

Takato frowned. Guilmon in the earlier dream had seemed so downright loyal, yet Black Growlmon right here and now was speaking of things that were bordering on blasphemous. But even so, they were friends and partners, Takato reminded himself. Whatever they discussed would stay between the two of them, no matter how weird or wrong it might seem. Takato was surprised when he found himself thinking he wouldn't report this to Jenrya, even if he asked and threatened. Black Growlmon's rebelliousness must be rubbing off on him.

"…I don't know," said Takato after watching his partner pace back and forth for a few minutes. "Jenrya seems to think we have to follow his Creator's orders. Not sure they can be disobeyed."

"I don't see why they can't," Black Growlmon rumbled. "What's the incentive for us to follow though? You and me?"

"Well," said Takato slowly, "if Jenrya follows them, I have to follow him. He's my friend too, you know."

"Like I'm blind," Black Growlmon muttered with more than a little jealousy. "Where is he anyway?"

The Tamer looked around. This was definitely weird. Usually Jenrya wouldn't leave Takato alone unless he was very busy and the last thing Takato remembered before the dreams started was that Jenrya had been absolutely livid at him last time. He should be here, keeping an eye on him. And even if Jenrya wasn't actually with him, Takato had always been able to feel his eyes, watching him and his thoughts. Yet now, looking around and probing, he felt nothing. It was like Jenrya vanished off the grid. Takato was baffled.

"I don't know," Takato said. "I really don't know."

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It was several days before the Juggernaut's emergency systems began to kick in. It had sustained severe damage to several important lines. Before the earthquakes, they were used to leech off electricity from a major power plant miles away, but now they were crushed, and therefore useless to the super-computer. Others weren't responding because they had been controlled by the higher functions, still currently offline. As it was, the only thing keeping the Juggernaut running was through the sheer force of its Will.

While that was fortunate considering the circumstances, it was also dangerous – even the Juggernaut's lowest functions sensed this. It doubled its efforts to repair itself.

The Will couldn't – mustn't – be allowed this kind of freedom.

Not now. Not ever.

Given too much time to himself, he might start relearning independence. That was one of the many dangerous traits of organic life forms, even inferior as they were to the Juggernaut. While they could be easily trained and turned sufficiently docile, they could still be unpredictable. At times they were too flexible for their own good. Dangerous, indeed. But survival required calculated risks and until some of the higher security functions were rebooted, the Will would have to be allowed a longer leash.

For now.

But precautions would have to be set so this incident would not repeat itself.

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Takato lay on his back in the warm grass of Shinjuku Park, arms behind his head, basking in the sun shining down through the gaps in the foliage. It occurred to him he should be someplace; it took a long time before he managed to remember where, dragging up "school" from vague memories. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost start remembering other things; faces of teachers, memories of homework, of friends. It made his head ache, and soon he had to give up as white stars burst in his vision. Hurt too much to remember. Waiting for them to clear, he glanced over to his left.

Next to him, Black Growlmon made a snuffling nose, gnawing on something Takato strongly suspected was probably a bone. He didn't ask where it came from – part of him already knew – and he wished his partner would just throw it away. It made him queasy just watching the Shadow…somehow seeing him do what Jenrya did wasn't the same. It wasn't as clean and unlike Jenrya, Black Growlmon honestly seemed to enjoy the killing. It was almost like a game to him.

Takato felt...weird. Unnerved.

Something about this just wasn't right. Not the eating thing – he never knew how his partner survived only on bread before anyway – but the pleasure in hurting others. Takato was sure he hadn't ever taught Black Growlmon it was okay to cause pain just for the sake of it. It gave him an uncomfortable feeling, deep down in the pit of his stomach. The Tamer tried to imagine Jenrya's voice. His friend would probably say it was inefficient and needless. That it was just a waste of energy being expended when there were other food sources that could be more easily obtained. Yet somehow that wasn't very reassuring.

It almost made Takato sick thinking about this.

"Black Growlmon," said Takato quietly, "do you have to do that right now?"

The Champion looked up. "Dowha?" he asked around the bone, voice muffled.

"That."

"Sorry," Black Growlmon grunted. He crushed the bone in his powerful jaws with a last bite, red-tinged splinters littering the grass at his claws. The large dinosaur-Digimon stared at his Tamer. "You're upset."

Takato frowned, gazing up at the still clouds frozen in the brilliant blue sky. "I've been thinking…um, trying to," he corrected himself. "I keep getting the feeling things changed. Like…like something's not right."

"I don't follow," Black Growlmon said, his golden eyes blinking lazily as he gazed at his human. "I'm here, you're here, and Jenrya's here."

"Yes, but…" Takato tried to decide how he wanted to put it. His partner would be behind him regardless of what he said or did, but how to put it in a way he would understand? "It's not that simple. At least, I don't think it is. It feels almost as if there's...well, there's more to it. To all of this," he made a vague wave around him at the park, the sky, Shinjuku.

Black Growlmon paused at this, reptilian eyes narrowed as he tried to recall a time different than this. He made an irritable hissing noise through his fangs, displeasure radiating out.

"Hurts to think about it, Takato," said Black Growlmon with the hint of an annoyed snarl.

Takato pushed himself up on his elbows. "I know it does, but you have to think."

The huge Champion squirmed visibly but obeyed his Tamer. His acid-yellow eyes clamped shut, fangs grinding together against one another as he tried to focus on one of the memories that seemed to have faded almost to oblivion. Birds twittered overhead in the branches above the two, oblivious. Angry smoke was starting to curl dangerously from Black Growlmon's jaws after a few minutes of focused thinking, his tail twitching in agitation.

"Not sure," said Black Growlmon after what felt like ages. "These…memories, they're just fragments. Nothing important."

"I guess…" Takato sighed.

"Hey, Jenrya's finally here," Black Growlmon said suddenly. He didn't sound as pleased, although he fixed a forced, fang-filled smile on his face, getting to his feet and towering over his Tamer.

Takato did the same and turned. Jenrya strode toward them from under the shade cast by the line of trees below their small hill, heading their way. Takato wondered if he should voice his concerns. The other boy exited into the warm sunlight, wearing once again the dark clothing that seemed very familiar to Takato for some reason; he was moving very purposefully and even from here, Takato could feel him immediately sending out those mental probes, seeking to read his mind as if it were a book, as he always did.

Only…

It didn't work.

Jenrya was too far away for Takato to hear him, but Takato could see the normally emotionless face suddenly turn confused, and then darken into something that looked like the doctored expression of fury he remembered only days before. Takato quailed. Great. He succeeded in angering his friend without even trying this time. He could feel Jenrya trying again and again relentlessly with the probes, but they simply bounced off, like Takato was surrounded by a brick wall. He got to his feet as Jenrya practically stormed up the hill.

"We are not fully rebooted and already you display disobedience once more!" Jenrya said the moment he was within hearing distance. "The higher programming functions will be notified."

Takato opened his mouth to apologize, as was expected, and to beg, as was also expected.

But even he looked surprised when instead he blurted: "You're not Jenrya?"

Jenrya came very close to doing a double-take at this – unable to update its databanks by probing into Takato, he was currently running on the next most recent files. Apparently whatever happened in the meantime had introduced some changes. Takato could practically see his friend working furiously to update them even as his alien eyes narrowed slightly. If there was anything Takato knew his friend hated more, it was being surprised.

"No. I am not the one you commonly refer to as 'Jenrya', TAKATO MATSUDA. I am one of the base survival programs the X6166 JUGGERNAUT initiated once you – the companion system – was introduced into it."

Black Growlmon watched the exchange with interest, more than willing to just sit, watch and (for now) be ignored. Jenrya paced before them, shooting a look at Takato that said he better sit down too. The young boy hurriedly seated himself on the sun-dappled grass as Jenrya continued to speak.

"I will supervise you until the main systems are brought back online," Jenrya said. "You will initiate no contact – electrical or physical. You will initiate no locomotive or aggressive attack functions in the mean time either. You will do nothing, TAKATO MATSUDA."

This made Black Growlmon bristle – the very opposite answer he had been hoping to hear from Jenrya - but he wisely kept his mouth and thoughts shut best as he could. Jenrya might not be able to get into his Tamer's mind as easily as he used to, but that didn't mean his Digimon partner had the same mysterious protections. Jenrya didn't even look at Black Growlmon, instead turning to stare at Takato as if he had never seen him before. Takato could feel the invisible probing tendrils trying again to invade. Instead of forcefully reaching out, they danced delicately, testing gently, looking for weak spaces in the barrier that shouldn't have existed.

So far, Jenrya couldn't get in.

And, for the first time in weeks, Takato realized he could think whatever he wanted.

Yet he hesitated; he didn't know what to do with such power.

And, being human, he froze.

"I have performed a rudimentary lockdown around you," Jenrya was saying now, matter-of-factly. "You are confined to standby state until the restart completes in approximately 48 hours. I am unable to account for how you managed to create your own security measures, but it is highly likely this was due to your human nature. Your species have failings, and perhaps hidden strengths, and therefore have a margin of error. If you are unable/unwilling to remove this security measure once we become fully operational once more, than it will be removed by force."

That got Black Growlmon's attention.

"Are you threatening my Tamer?" he rumbled, white flames licking dangerously around his jaws, and for the first time since he had arrived, Jenrya looked directly at him.

"Threatening?" Jenrya tilted his head curiously. "REDEFINING. Stating a fact."

"I…I don't know how I did it," Takato said, choosing his words carefully. "Swear I don't!"

Jenrya resumed pacing on the grass, as if he was there to brief Takato and nothing more. Black Growlmon was starting to look at the blue-haired boy with dislike that became more and more apparent on his face, try as he might to hide it. Takato shot a warning look at Black Growlmon. The Digimon was loyal first to his Tamer and he didn't want him getting in huge trouble with Jenrya if he picked a fight. Takato knew first-hand just what Jenrya was capable of. Frankly, it terrified him to think of that kind of power being turned Black Growlmon. For once he was glad Jenrya couldn't read his mind right now.

Because if he could, Jenrya could and would use his fears against him. It was the smart thing to do and Jenrya was wiickedly smart, no matter what form he came in.

He was definitely smart enough to lie.

Strange feelings starting to arise in Takato, unfamiliar and alien emotions he hadn't felt in what seemed like decades resurfaced. Hurt. Doubt. Concern. And always, fear. It was the old fear he felt around Jenrya. Even if this one wasn't the full version of Jenrya, he could still feel it uncurling under the surface. Takato told himself that the full-version of Jenrya was different, wouldn't dare lie or make veiled threats, but the more he thought about it – stars began to blossom madly before his eyes in response – the more he realized he didn't know anything. He had all the knowledge in the world because of Jenrya and yet he knew absolutely nothing

"– it cannot be permitted to happen again, intentional or not," Jenrya was saying. "Surveillance shows you made unauthorized contact with a high-priority target…"

Takato felt his cheeks burning with shame – he remembered that incident. The way he'd felt on edge, even curious about the other false-Jenrya, the one who didn't have the alien eyes. Black Growlmon was looking at him in open bewilderment, clearly wondering what they were talking about, as Jenrya continued:

"…and that matter is scheduled to be reviewed for punishment protocols. An evaluation of your performance is coming up, and while you are extremely valuable to me, be advised further disobedience will make you less so."

Jenrya's eyes met with Takato's, his expression, as usual, unreadable. Takato stared back, feeling a strange pulling sensation in his stomach – it felt like he was falling into those gray-within-black eyes and he had to visibly shake himself before he remembered what they were talking about in the first place. He suddenly had an urge to blurt aloud every thought as Jenrya knelt in front of him, their faces only mere inches apart.

Jenrya even now continued to probe Takato's mysterious defenses, his hypnotic alien eyes on the other boy's face.

"You must, of course, have realized by now that cooperation is key, TAKATO MATSUDA," said Jenrya more gently, eyes half-lidded. "Even if your security measures in place, I can make a very good estimate as to what you are thinking. Let me tell you this: what you sought days before wasn't worth your attention. You are so superior to any human alive that all you do is taint yourself. I couldn't bear to see you like that."

Takato found he couldn't look away from that arresting gaze.

"Even if I'm not fully online right now, I still care for your well-being," Jenrya said quietly. Takato felt a flutter in his chest at this. As Jenrya's eyes continued to bore on him, Takato felt hope and affection warring with each other. "I don't like it when you see that other hu – that other boy..."

Black Growlmon rumbled waspishly behind them, irritated at being shunted aside. "Maybe if you were here more often, Jenrya, Takato wouldn't get lonely."

Jenrya ignored the Digimon as if he wasn't even worth notice. Takato thought that was weird– he distantly remembered Jenrya liking Digimon – and the smile that had crept unconsciously onto his face slowly faded into a frown.

"Well," Takato ventured, still nervous since he wasn't used to Jenrya not being able to read his mind, "I do get lonely sometimes. Before…we used to be together more, so I thought…"

"Things will be different, I promise," said Jenrya and offered a stiff-lipped smile.

Takato stared at him, unsure of what to say. Having Jenrya making promises to him – instead of the other way around – was disorienting and he tried to come up with reason for this. Jenrya, a little nagging voice in his head said, wasn't really here. He even said so. This was...was...like a reflection.

Still, Jenrya promised, the other little voice said, the one that seemed to be dominant most of the time. He promised Takato that he wouldn't be left alone, left behind, and so far, despite all the threats and disappointment, Jenrya kept his word. Yet even both of the little voices in Takato's head agreed that while Jenrya might care for them, he would also only remain true to his word so long as Takato obeyed. It really all boiled down to how useful, how indispensable Takato made himself.

Everything seemed to contradict itself.

Takato didn't know what to think anymore.

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Black Growlmon woke up with a sudden start.

Frowning, the Champion pushed himself into a sitting position, blinking and then giving an angry snarl as reality dawned on him. Why did he wake up? His dream has been so wonderful – even with Jenrya there, which was always a damper – and the Shadow had been enjoying his time with Takato. For a few minutes, he hated himself more than he hated Terriermon, loathed himself for waking up for no reason and denying himself those precious moments with his Tamer. But, calming down, he reasoned he wasn't the one at fault here. The root of all this was their enemies who prevented him and Takato from being happy together. If their enemies were gone, then the joy of the dream, the joy of being with Takato, wouldn't be just dreams. They'd be reality.

This made the Shadow feel better.

A little.

It was deep in the night now and he had lost at least a day from his kill-stupor, which meant more sniffing around for Jenrya and Terriermon's trail. Bending low and snuffling at the street, he couldn't help daydreaming about sitting in the sun with Takato. They hadn't done anything – no playing, no hunting, nothing – but it didn't matter. Being with Takato was great no matter what they were doing.

And then Jenrya came along and made Takato upset.

Black Growlmon was angry all over just thinking about it. Takato seemed to think Jenrya was the greatest thing since sliced bread, but Black Growlmon just couldn't see the other boy's appeal. At all. A part of him was (rightfully) scared of Jenrya. The other part could do little but fume in the background, incensed at how Jenrya was stealing Takato away from him. And what was worse was the way he treated him, Black Growlmon thought. If he had been Jenrya – the thought of being even remotely human made him shudder – he knew he wouldn't be so harsh with Takato.

But he wasn't Jenrya and he was in no position to tell Jenrya what to do. None of them were. He was just too powerful.

Black Growlmon trotted along abandoned streets, moving as quickly as his size allowed. Several times he spotted clusters of humans moving in little bands in the distance. Some were following a lone black and white car with red and blue lights. Others were helping themselves into stores, retrieving supplies. If they saw Black Growlmon, they didn't react – displaced from their homes, they had bigger problems. Many probably imagined they were seeing things. That was fine with him. The less distractions, the better.

Street signs meant nothing to him and he didn't bother looking at them as he crossed the street, tail stiff behind him for balance. He hadn't ever learned to read the human language, so things such as street signs only looked like a meaningless collection of squiggles and boxes to him. He remembered Jenrya – not Takato's Jenrya, but Terriermon's Jenrya – trying to explain to him the meaning of these "characters". He said that they sometimes resembled the word's meaning, but Black Growlmon even back then thought that didn't make sense.

Humans, as a general whole, were ridiculous.

With the exception of Takato, Black Growlmon hurriedly amended. Takato was special and Black Growlmon liked to think that Takato must've been a Digimon in his previous life.

It was late in the night when the scent began to grow much stronger: he was very close to the apartment building, he thought. Striding down the street, Black Growlmon sniffed carefully at the air, observing his surroundings with suspicion. Broken windows lined the buildings towering over him, shards of glass still littering the streets and sidewalks. Open doors gaped silently, some swinging on broken hinges, creaking, and everywhere, there was a gentle groan, as if the very buildings themselves were exhausted to the breaking point, heaving weary sighs here and there. He didn't see any humans, although their stench was everywhere. Living ones, dead ones they hadn't had a chance to bury. The Digimon wrinkled his snout. Even from here, the smell of death was strong.

Yet even so, he could pick out Jenrya's scent, wandering around in this death-stench, wandering around with that strange boy he was always with these days.

Black Growlmon was in sight of Jenrya's apartment building when he saw the first real sign of life in this area. There was an encampment on the far side at least a block away, tongues of flame flickering and sparking in a few metal bins as a cluster of humans crowded around them for warmth. There had to be at least twenty of them. Shadows of others sat dotted around the twisted ruins of some kind of metal structure and for a moment, he stood stock still, his snake-eyes scanning the area and looking for any sign of Jenrya and the others. All the figures were too big; some were too tall, others too round, others had curves that Jenrya didn't have. Jenrya wasn't here any more, but his scent was much, much stronger.

Well. He probably would be able to make a direct bee-line to Jenrya now that he found a trail that was only several hours old. Surveying the unsuspecting band of humans, he debated quickly with himself. Surely Takato would understand. Any humans who gave Jenrya and his companions safe passage were enemies by default; best to wipe them out rather than give them a chance to help again. It was simple, but made perfect sense.

The edges of the Shadow's jaws turned up in a nasty grin as he advanced toward the band of humans.

This wouldn't take very long.

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Takato tried to think hard, but today it felt like he had iron clamps attached to the sides of his head. He wondered if this was Jenrya's doing and realized immediately that this was a very stupid question. It had to be. Jenrya stuck to his word. He'd told him that he wouldn't allow him to roam free. So it made sense. Still, upon testing the iron clamps on his head, Takato couldn't help but squirm mentally – they were very uncomfortable and he longed for them to be off. It wasn't…it wasn't fair he had to wear them.

The boy did a double-take at this thought. Fair?

Had he actually…?

Yes, he had.

The concept of unfair didn't exist in Jenrya's world and by all rights, it shouldn't exist in his, either. Takato thought about this very hard, despite the clamps tightening around him, and finally came to a conclusion. This wasn't as much of Jenrya's world as he assumed. Jenrya couldn't make every world Takato saw, otherwise he wouldn't be able to even think about vague things like"fairness". This seemed like it should be inherently wrong, but Takato, thinking about it further, couldn't find any other explanations that just rang…true like this one did.

Food for thought.

In this world, this world that wasn't owned by Jenrya, Takato knew that he was starting – slowly, very, very slowly – to think clearly, to think more like a human and less like Jenrya here. Now he could tell where he ended and Jenrya began, compared to before. He had a feeling that this was exactly what Jenrya didn't want and the clamps pressed down harder in response, for a second forcing his mind to go blank.

But Jenrya wasn't all-powerful.

That alone was practically earth-shattering, and it was an idea Takato had difficulty grasping, thought-block or not. It was painful

The question that kept haunting him was "why?". Why for everything. It made his head hurt and for some strange reason, Takato wished Jenrya's thought-blocker was more efficient. Thinking for himself hurt inside.

It was…depressing, these new truths about Jenrya. Disappointing. And troubling, too, because Takato started to remember other things – terrible, horrible things he had done with his own hands, with Jenrya that involved cold-blooded killing. Murder. Guilt and emptiness started to set in as he wandered down the abandoned sidewalk without any sense of direction, glancing up at the sky, for the first time starting to really understand the extent of hopelessness and endless shame uncurling in the pit of his stomach.

Today it wasn't a nice day at all. The air crackled with electricity and he almost swore he could feel the hairs on his head starting to stand up. An unpleasant humidity, muggy and uncomfortable, made him fidget. It didn't help at all that he seemed to be very sluggish, a strange weight making his movements slow, limbs leaden. He managed to make it a block down the street before he was forced to sit down at the unoccupied bus stop, panting for breath.

Must be the weather, he reasoned feverishly. Still, that didn't quite explain the shortness of breath or the tight knot forming painfully inside him. Placing one hand over his chest, Takato could feel his heart fluttering weakly between his ribs, beating like a trapped bird.

Jenrya promptly materialized next to him, fixing his silver-within-black eyes on the other boy.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jenrya demanded.

Takato looked up in mild surprise. What did it look like he was doing? "I'm sitting."

"That's not what I mean. Your vital signs are dropping at a dangerous rate, TAKATO MATSUDA; I can only sustain you without normal life support systems for only so long without your own input. In order for us to survive the reboot-up process, you must sustain us both."

"I'm not – "

"Your Will to live is declining for some reason I cannot understand," Jenrya interrupted him. His face twisted for the first time with real, genuine emotion – alarm. "You will kill yourself if this continues."

Takato tried to sit up, but could only stare dumbly at his friend, sagging heavily in his seat. He didn't understand, he wasn't doing anything at all this time, aside from thinking. It wasn't like he was actually wishing to die like Jenrya claimed, all he'd been doing was just trying to clear his head. Some of those thoughts leaked past the strange mental barriers he constructed earlier, enough so that Jenrya could read them, his alien eyes flicking quickly about Takato as if he could see the very wisps of shaky questions and ideas.

"You are at fault; the very center of your Will wavers. Without your Will fueling your physical body, you will die quickly," Jenrya said, almost pleading now. "Stop this."

Takato tried to focus on Jenrya despite the fact his vision kept blurring for some reason, feeling a sudden wave of anger directed at the other boy. Why was Jenrya being so callous? He hadn't cared about all those people he – they – killed, whether purposefully or accidentally, like their attack against the false-Jenrya and his friends when they triggered the self-defense systems. Humans, like Takato, alive and breathing, had died, been crushed to death, yet Jenrya just wrote them off as expendable.

Takato was trying to figure out if he wanted to glare at Jenrya or not when he felt a cold wave sweep up over his body, sending tremors up through his legs and arms. His vision flickered hazily, black around the edges. He realized belatedly that he was fading in and out of consciousness right here and now. It occurred to him that Jenrya – cold, machine-like, methodical, uncaring – was right. He really did feel like something was draining from him as weakness began to set in.

He was dimly aware of the dream-world fraying at the edges, glowing cracks suddenly dancing everywhere like thin spider legs. Jenrya lunged at him with those claws of his just as Takato blacked out, his heartbeat like slowing drums in his veins. For one long second, it stilled completely.

Darkness.

Nothing.

For the first time, wonderful peace…

- A flash of blinding light -

- Sudden, indescribable pain exploded in his chest, both his real and dream-ones -

Takato involuntarily spasmed, back arching up off the sidewalk. Another firework burst of pain and suddenly he was coughing harshly, cruelly dragged out of that peaceful void. Infinite sadness started to set in at this unfair, disheartening reality, only to result in another punishing burst of agony. His teeth positively chattered. His eyes fluttered open. Jenrya looked down at him, holding the other boy in one strong, clawed hand, the other with the wickedly curved talons impeded into his chest, right where his heart was. Takato was sure his claws were wrapped around his heart. Electricity still crackled in the air around the two boys.

"You can't die. I still need you."

Takato stared up mutely at Jenrya. The inhuman eyes narrowed as he bent in close.

"You won't escape from me unless I will it, TAKATO MATSUDA. Death can't save you. I will keep you biologically alive as long as possible."

Takato opened his mouth, feeling like he'd swallowed cotton-balls, but Jenrya shook his head, leaning in even closer, his cold breath grazing Takato's flushed cheek, his voice a deadly purr.

"We function most efficiently as one if you are Willing, but I will tell you this. I cannot survive this rebooting process without your Will – you must keep me alive until it is over. It is true I need you for the time being," Jenrya paused. "But I have evolved enough that afterward…"

Jenrya whispered something so horrible that Takato froze, staring wide-eyed up at his friend, forgetting about the terrible tremors from the electrical shocks still assaulting him, forgetting about the chilling claws inside his chest. Forgetting about everything. Jenrya had to be lying. He had said he couldn't…that Takato was…but…

But nothing.

He was right.

Jenrya had lied.

He might've lied then, but now he spoke the truth. Takato could still hear Jenrya's perfect voice, as casual and matter-of-fact as if this shouldn't come as a surprise.

"I won't need you anymore," Jenrya had purred into Takato's ear. "I've evolved enough that my basic survival after the rebooting process won't hinge on your life alone. Die if you must afterward. It doesn't matter to me. I will have some of your powers left, I will have your partner and I will survive without you if necessary."

Takato didn't want to believe it. If he did, it turned everything upside down.

"Of course," Jenrya continued, peering down at Takato through blue bangs, silver-within-black eyes hooded, "this is not the preferred scenario. I would rather have full-access to you and your abilities than being forced to function at half-capacity. It isn't efficient. Needlessly difficult."

"No…" Takato managed to choke out in a moan, voice hoarse.

Jenrya gave a shrug. "This is your choice. There are two options available to you. You may die - I will keep you biologically alive as long as possible, but you will kill off yourself as you are now, leaving only your physical body behind. Or you may live, and we continue like before. Choose to live, and I will be willing to give you a gift rather than a punishment; you will be rewarded for choosing the more efficient choice."

Takato was silent. Jenrya slowly removed his claws from Takato's heart. He brought his hand up gently, giving the boy's cheek an almost loving caress Takato knew now he was faking, clarity somehow warring with the disjointed sense of reality cracking yet again. He could remember more and more now. Ugly bits and pieces that made Takato want to roll over and dry-heave as it dawned on him what had happened, for the first time realizing how he'd been betrayed. How much he betrayed others. All for what? Jenrya's touch brought him back to the present, drawing his gaze up to meet the other boy's silver eyes.

Jenrya's palm was cold as steel, impossibly smooth, his curved claws tickling Takato's skin. Takato flinched a little at the touch.

"Choose to live and let me through these new shields of yours," Jenrya murmured. "I will erase all memories of this for you; you will not remember what I have just told you. You will have that peace you humans seek. You can have your peace, and I will still have you. But, regardless…my survival is tantamount to all else. Even you."

Takato could feel helpless anger and fury welling within. He might not remember much – if anything – before he met Jenrya, but that didn't make this hurt any less. A part of him wanted to hate him now, just as the other adamantly refused to believe the truth. Torn, fractured, unsure of himself, Takato tried to turn over these choices Jenrya represented him in his mind, trying desperately to think.

The thought-blockers kicked in, but that didn't stop Takato from coming to a conclusion.

"These aren't choices, Jenrya." Takato wanted to cry in frustration, but the angry tears refused to come.

Jenrya only offered two deaths.

"Pick one," said Jenrya, smooth claws still on Takato's cheek with the same simulated affection as before, actually smiling now. "What else is there for you, companion system?"

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Black Growlmon was enjoying himself. He hadn't had this much exercise in awhile and it was refreshing to stretch his legs; humans could be surprisingly good sprinters when they put their mind to it. He had been sporting at first. Rather than just charging in, he stepped into view and let them get a good, long look at his marvelous form before lunging at the closest human and picking him up in his jaws by his torso. The male screamed up a storm before a lazy, snapping twist of Black Growlmon's jaws silenced him, leaving the body to dangle between his fangs like a rag doll.

That sent the rest of the group of humans scattering.

The shrieks they made was music.

He tossed the corpse to the side – he could come back and get it later if he still felt peckish - and took off at a loping, rolling run after the fleeing humans, horned head down, claws tucked in to his chest, movements birdlike and deadly. Humans overall were faster than him in sprints (surprising, really, what with their puny little legs), but he was larger and had better endurance. There was no doubt in his mind that he would catch up eventually.

The humans scattered in groups, following the mindless herd mentality, as if numbers could afford them safety, as if he was going to be satisfied with just picking off the weakest of the pack. He laughed at this, laughed loud, his laughter a thundering roar bouncing off the buildings around them. He easily caught up to the first group and torched the stragglers with a puff of white flame. Rinse, repeat with the next two.

The next group turned out to be a bit more difficult, since they were zigzagging now and were faster and younger than the first ones. He eventually picked them off one by one, almost impressed to see that they gave him a good work-out. Black Growlmon was actually breathing hard from all the running, amazingly enough.

It took almost half an hour before he picked off the majority of them. One of the next ones was back near where he'd attacked that first male human, her scent stained with terror. He took his time now – for some reason, her smell wasn't moving. Slightly puzzled, Black Growlmon stepped out of the shadows as he rounded the corner.

This human was female, fairly young, black hair, little beady eyes, standing next to one of the pitiful bonfires erected for warmth. She looked like just about every other human to him. Why isn't she running? She was definitely scared, he could see that, her body quaking visibly, fear roiling off her so strongly that he wrinkled his snout, giving a snort. She held some kind of little cage in her hands, standing her ground as if she could protect it. Black Growlmon squinted his snake's eyes, trying to make out what was in there that was so valuable she was willing to sacrifice herself to him for it.

There didn't seem to be anything in there. If there was, it was too small for him to make out.

Giving a mental shrug at the boundless stupidity of humans, Black Growlmon took a step forward to finish her off. She positively reeked of Jenrya and that strange boy that was always with him; she must've been with them recently.

"Human, it would've been better if you never met Jenrya Lee. I'll be sure to make your death painful to the end," Black Growlmon sneered. The human female looked dumbfounded to hear words come out of his jaws. She took a step backward just as he took a step forward.

He didn't make it any further when suddenly the world flipped upside down, spinning and spinning, and then, without warning, blacked out completely. Everything winked out of existence. He dimly felt his body stiffening and then suddenly toppling to the right. His hind legs when out from under him. He fell heavily onto his side, and lay there, frozen, his body unresponsive.

Pain blossomed in his chest, stabbing from all directions like icy-hot swords. A roar of protest. He was faintly aware of his female prey taking off, disappearing into the darkness. Black Growlmon struggled to his feet to pursue, but was downed by another violent burst of agony in his heart. His tail thumped on the ground as he twitched and bucked feebly where he lay, hissing and spitting and snarling.

A third one.

Then…it was over, leaving Black Growlmon panting in relief, his long tongue rolling over his parted fangs.

It took several minutes before he could compose himself, a bit longer before he was sure he could get to his feet without falling over. What was that? Even his digivolution from Guilmon to Black Growlmon hadn't been anywhere as painful. He carefully touched his chest with one blood-stained claw – the ache was gone and he felt okay now, the pain from before only a memory. Still, he hadn't imagined it.

Maybe his digivolution was unstable? That was always possible – he had a feeling it hadn't been normal. Yet…he wasn't sure. It had felt like he was being erased, ceasing to exist, only to get shocked back to life rudely time and time again.

Takato?

Takato didn't answer back and that alarmed Black Growlmon. Maybe something had happened to his Tamer. The thought was chilling, dashing his blood lust and confusion away like ice water. What was he doing out here indulging himself if his partner might be in trouble? Furious at his stupidity, he took his rage out on the bodies he hadn't charred to ashes in the hunt, tearing them to pieces until there wasn't anything left to tear apart, leaving his breath heaving in and out of him with powerful snorts as his heart calmed.

Takato's not dead. Black Growlmon at least knew that much. Maybe his partner had been on the verge, but someone or something drew him back. So he was okay for now, although he had no way of knowing how long. He couldn't bother with these frivolous hunts anymore until he got Jenrya and found Takato. The Shadow was ashamed of his loss of control, but there was no way to take it back now. He had expended energy chasing the humans around and since he had so thoughtlessly shredded whatever potential meals into ribbons, he he had nothing but scraps to eat.

Great, Black Growlmon thought.

Wishing he could just drain away his anger and frustration, he turned and began to plod after Jenrya's scent trail, moving at a trot, measuring his pace as he reserved his energy. Well, at the very least, he knew Jenrya was close. He would probably come upon Jenrya, Terriermon and that strange boy with them within the next day, so long as he didn't go out hunting again. Still angry with himself and troubled at his episode with the chest pains earlier, Black Growlmon disappeared into the darkness, the moon rising overhead, heading north-east.

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Tadako ran for her life.

Her heart thundered between her ribs, adrenaline making her run faster than she ever had before. She was probably scaring Chanchan to death with all the bouncing, even as she clutched his cage to her chest, but she couldn't think straight. Fear fueled her. Somehow she managed to navigate the streets and alleys, leaping over rubble, barreling blindly forward, unable to focus and see.

She just saw a monster.

The memory alone was too horrible to even comprehend. She remembered the fear, the sprays of red, the bursts of white plumes of fire enveloping some of her apartment neighbors. They were vaporized into ashes, if even that much was left. Tadako wasn't sure what happened to Yasuo – she hoped he got away – and she tried to forget the whole thing, but she couldn't. Her legs went on automatic and carried her as far away from that hell as fast as possible. The worst part was the monster itself. It...played with them. She was almost sure it had been laughing, mocking them.

The thing was evil.

And that was before it actually spoke.

She shivered despite the heat coursing through her veins, despite the thin sheen of sweat making her pants and shirt stick to her body. The monster's voice had been intelligent. Cruel.

It mentioned a name that was somehow familiar and it took her a moment in her blind panic to remember where she heard it before.

Jenrya Lee…that boy with Ryo Akiyama, the kid she'd watched out for! She almost skidded to a stop right there as it all sank in. This monster was going to do the same to them what he'd done to their encampment. She didn't know if they'd believe her, but she found her feet deciding for her – they changed direction, heading toward the hospital she'd remembered everyone talking about the other day. Tadako hoped she wouldn't run into that black dinosaur again, if that was what that horrible thing was. She couldn't even promise that she would reach Jenrya, Ryo and Suma in time to warn them

Still, she had to try.

To be continued
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