Disclaimer: Maybe I own something, maybe I don't. I'm not sure yet myself. But I don't own Chimeramon or Digimon in general.

…No, I'm dead serious, I'm not sure if I own any of the people in this. Sad, huh? Hehehe…

I don't think he heard me. The doors in this base are far too thick. At least, I hope they are. Because if they aren't, then he heard what I just said about him, and what I said wasn't flattering. Not in the least. And knowing him, if he did hear me, I'm dead. He's just like that. Short fused. The look on his face doesn't bode well for me. I am so dead. Be calm, I tell myself. Don't look guilty. So I try to smile. "How'd it go?" I ask, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. He growls slightly and drops into a chair. That's good. That means I'm not in trouble. At least, not yet.

"Bad."

That's all he says before standing up again and marching to the main computer. He starts punching buttons at lightning speed, completely ignoring me. I can feel myself shifting uncomfortably. Did he hear me or not? The way he's acting right now, I can't tell. Suddenly, he starts talking again.

"Chimeramon was waiting for them at the end of the pass and attacked them as they came out. The entire battle lasted a whole two minutes!" he adds.

"And after the two minutes?"

He pauses for a moment. That can't be good. But I want to know.

"Well?"

"Their digimon reverted to their in-training forms and they retreated."

I'm shocked. "They lost?" I cry, jumping to my feet. "How could they lose? You practically gave them that battle!"

He turns around slowly and motions for me to calm down. But I can tell he's having a hard time keeping together himself. This entire month has been hard on him, especially because Chimeramon is his creation. True, he didn't want to create him, but that doesn't change the fact that he did. And now with that monster loose… I'm surprised he hasn't had a nervous breakdown yet. I sure would have. Heck, I nearly did, when I found out that our little "Frankenstein monster" had gotten away.

"Yes," he sighs, turning back to the computer. Images of the fleeing children appear on the screens. Their digimon are cradled in their arms as the run from the huge monster in the background. "Yes; they lost." He hesitates for a moment before slamming his fist into the wall. "I can't believe I let this happen!"

"Let it happen?" I question. "You did everything you could to prevent it!"

"I created him," he argues. His voice rises as he continues. "I made that vile, grotesque, mismatched, wretch of a creature! He nearly destroyed them; killed them; burnt them into oblivion; however you want to say it!" His tone suddenly changes to a whisper as he turns and looks at me. He looks absolutely miserable. "And I made him."

"I helped." It isn't much of an argument, but to try to convince him that what happened wasn't his fault would be futile. The next best thing is to help ease his guilt. But as stubborn as he is, he probably wont let that fly either.

"I'd hardly call your selecting from a group of digimon helping."

Figures!

"And besides, you didn't have much of a choice."

"I had as much of a choice as you!" I know I shouldn't deviate from the topic, but he always says that as though I am some sort of puppet. I try not to get as aggravated as I do, but… well, I do. He smiles slightly; he's always found my short temper amusing.

AN: Bad place to end anything, but that's all I have right now. If nobody likes it cringes … well, I doubt that'll stop me, but whatever! Review!