Anne panicked. How could she EVER tell which Kyomon was real? She remembered Amonæmon saying something about how the test was impossible, but she never really BELIEVED it! Then she thought about what might happen if she guessed incorrectly. She felt sick. Still, Kamemon needed her. But he might be dead. What was the use, then? She felt like just running out of there and going back home, giving up.

"Anne?"

She started. Then she remembered that Jonathan and Matt were there, also, the former being the one who spoke. "What?"

"Do you have any idea which one it is?"

"No…" But then she thought. Kyomon needed her, at least. She couldn't just give up on him. She willed herself to look at the four of them. One was real. The other three weren't. But which ones? If the original flapped his wing, the others did it at the exact same moment. She sighed and pulled out her D-Power. Maybe…

But it went haywire. It absolutely refused to respond. Then, all of the Kyomon mocked, "No cheating!"

Then something occurred to her. The original would never say that. She knew it. Then another thought struck her. Was it possible that…?

"None of you are real!"

There was a dead silence. All four of the Kyomon remained still. Then, breaking both the pattern and the silence, one of the Kyomon said in a FEMALE voice, "Ehh…not quite." Then, "she" looked at the other three. Two of them murmured together and nodded their heads in agreement with "her". The other one looked confused. Anne's heart sank; that was the real one.

"However," said one of the fakes, also in a female voice, though slightly lighter than the other one, "it was an educated guess, at least. Not just what some simpletons did, closing their eyes and jabbing their finger at a rock. You're the first in years to make such a wise decision."

Matt and Jonathan gawked. They couldn't believe it when she'd made her guess, and this was even more incredulous than that. There was a loud snap and the real Kyomon was hurled into Anne's arms, slightly dazed. Anne sighed in relief. She had no idea how lucky she was. Then the three remaining Kyomon transformed, much like in the same way Shedramon did, into what must've been the oracles.

Allegriamon, the first who'd spoken, looked sort of humanoid, with a dark scarlet cloak covering her face and reaching down to her waits, where it tucked into silky white leggings. She had four wings, black and white, arranged so that it looked like a checkered pattern. Qidamon, also humanoid, looked more like a harem girl, with white-blond hair and a lilac veil covering her eyes. Draliomon, the only male of the group, was more serpent-like, with a worn black cloak and metallic blades protruding from his arms. In a sick sort of way, he seemed to be a bit like PetitDracomon. "Now," he said, "what do you want to know?"

Anne thought. There were a lot of things she wanted to know, but mostly whether or not Kamemon was alive. Yet…Kyomon was there. Should she risk it? "I want to know where Kamemon is."

Allegriamon said, "He is much closer than you think."

"Is he alive?"

"That, I cannot tell. In a way, he is, but in another, he is not."

"How come we couldn't see PetitDracomon?" interrupted Jonathan.

"He melts with the night shadows," said Qidamon. "It is wise not to fight with him after sunset."

"How come Lestemon could see him?"

"Lestemon could see him only because he, too, was a night creature."

"And how many of the guardians are still alive?" asked Matt.

There was a slow silence. Then Qidamon continued, "There is but one. But as we speak, his life is in jeopardy. PetitDracomon will soon find him, and then the entire Digital World will be thrown off."

"Does he work for somebody?"

"He refused to. His creator made an offer, but he had no confidence in him, so he ran off."

"Who is his creator?"

"A lost virus."

More silence. Wait," said Anne. "What d'you mean, a lost virus?"

"A virus that was forgotten, abandoned, finished. But it must've been one with conscious thought, for he had an assistant."

"Who was?"

This time, Draliomon spoke. "About ten years ago, a girl was stuck in a bad coma. However, she woke up from it, suddenly. That was because the virus had been invading her mind, her soul, slowly recreating her spirit. She wasn't even human, though she looked it. She now had psychic powers that no normal human could claim…only a Digimon."

"So, in other words, she was half-digital?"

"Yes."

She remembered the story in the newspaper about finding the dead body of a girl in the Chunnel. Possibly it only just occurred to the assistant to fake her death? And then she remembered that her D-Power went off the first time she saw her…and the Japanese activity log. It all began to make sense. "Where is she now?"

"I do not know. But she has caused a great betrayal…not only to the entire Digital World, but to her master itself."

"What d'you mean?"

"She brought the death of her master with her when she came here."

"Nisamon?"

"No."

She sighed. This was even more confusing. "About this Master…are we going to kill him?"

"Do you want to know the answer?"

"I…I guess."

"No. But he will perish, nonetheless," he added quickly.

This didn't really help Anne a lot. Her heart sinking, she asked, "What was the name of this servant? Before she was made digital?"

"Jacquelyn McIntyre."

"Are we ever going to catch up to her?"

"Yes. But you'll be sorry you did."

"Why?"

"Some questions…are best left unanswered."

"Why?! I want to know why!"

"You will find out for yourself. And again, you will wish you hadn't. However, you will find something vital when you meet her. That alone will lead you to her Master's domain."

"Is her master a Digimon?"

"Of some sorts, yes."

"What kind is it?"

"A mutant."

"That's what you said PetitDracomon was!"

"Yes, but the Master is far more of a mutant."

Anne, by this time was getting frustrated. Then, Qidamon said, "It is getting dark. You may not want to continue on in the night."

"You're right about that," replied Jonathan. "That walking blade-bag is more than any of us can handle…"

"Walking is incorrect."

"Whatever—flying, I don't care."

* * *

PetitDracomon slowly drank in the data from the Digicore. The dying guardian, Azulongmon, was quivering on the ground, defeated. His death was imminent, and he knew it well. But what the guardian couldn't understand, however, was why anything would crave power so badly that they would even destroy the entire Digital World. If it was destroyed, the Real World would be in shambles, so there would be nothing left to rule. Nothing made sense anymore. "Why are you doing this?" he struggled to ask.

PetitDracomon didn't look down. "I do not need a reason."

"I've known Digimon like yourself! Trust me, if you destroy the balance of the Digital World, there won't be anything left!"

The lizard discarded the remains of the Digicore and spread his large, black wings. "So?"

"So?! You must have some sympathy in you, no matter how little!"

He folded his wings and arched his neck, creating a silhouette in the setting sun. "You only have sympathy if you are born with it. I was not. And I will never have use for it."

Azulongmon could sense the dangerously multiplying data within the wraith. "You are not born with sympathy, you earn it. Please, just give it a chance—"

"Oh, really, and give in to weakness?! I don't care about all this nonsensical balance crap, power is power! And even if your rambling is true, humans will deserve the chaos created! I thought by now that you would see that! Obviously, your thoughts are nothing but delusions!"

A long silence followed. PetitDracomon consumed the last of the Digicores. Then, Azulongmon said, "You will never get away with this."

PetitDracomon brought the long, sickle-like blade on his tail several feet above the guardian's neck. "Oh, shut up." He let the blade drop and felt the incredible multiplication of data in his body. He felt a rush of energy and hissed in satisfaction as nature took its course.