Disclaimer: Digimon belongs to Bandai and Toei Animation

All OCs belong to me

Ch. 1 – An Encounter of Digital Proportions

Look, let me get something straight. I love Digimon with a passion, but I never thought for a second that it was going to be a huge part of my life. And I certainly didn't expect that, despite how harmless it seemed at first, it would end up being the source of most, if not all of my problems. So if you're jumping into this believing that it's all going to be fun and games, think again. Because it's more than just a game. I learned that the hard way. It can be tough. It can be scary. In fact, it can be the most terrifying thing you could ever imagine, leaving you with scars and nightmares for the rest of your life.

But I'm not here to frighten you away. I'm here to tell you my story— with all the good and the bad parts of it. And despite the bad, I don't regret it at all. Not one second of it.

I'm Max, short for Maxine. And until recently, I was just your average teenage girl trying to make her way through this crazy, confusing obstacle we call life. You wouldn't give me a second thought if you saw me walking down the street—not that I'd blame you. I was never one for social interaction with the exception a very small few (and by that I mean my family). I mostly kept to myself and my interests, hardly paying attention to the rest of the world around me.

Of course, if I did back then, I probably would've been able to see all the red flags—the warnings of what was to come. And then everything wouldn't have changed in a whirlwind.

But then we wouldn't be here, now would we?

I know I said that this was my story, but it could just as easily be your story too. You know what they say: being a part of something special, makes you special. And just knowing about the reality of Digimon makes you special in ways you can't imagine. I know that sounds pretty cryptic right now, but trust me on this one. It'll all make sense in time.

For now, let's rewind a bit, and start at…well, the beginning. Thinking back, I suppose I could start anywhere regarding the strange events surrounding us, but let's take off on the day when it started to affect me directly. The day when my destiny began to run its course.

"Thank you for that weather report, Donna. And speaking of weather, our next segment will discuss the unusual fog sightings all over the city. Authorities and experts continue to insist that it's merely a rare but natural climate occurrence. We've asked viewers to send in confirmation from all districts, and it's been reported that patches of mist are appearing without—"

With a mildly annoyed huff, I picked up my worn paperback book from my desk and concentrated more on the words I was reading, trying to drown out the sound of the newsfeed video being played on my social studies teacher's computer, as well as the noisy chatter of the other students around me. We had a free period to do whatever that day, and I actually wanted to finish this book from my backlog list, thank you very much.

But I guess no one wanted me to. Some seconds afterwards, a shadow loomed over me, and my book was suddenly yanked out of my hands.

"Whatcha reading there, Maxy?"

"Hey!" I protested, glaring up at the culprit over my desk. It was Rita, fellow classmate of mine, and a huge pain in my posterior. She always picked on me. Why?

Gee, I don't know. Why does anyone do anything bad or annoying? Maybe she just thought I was an easy target because she knew I wouldn't tell the teachers to stir up more drama than I could stand, or she was just a downright jerk. Either way, we weren't exactly what you'd call best buds.

She was quite tall for a kid her age—one of the tallest in our class, actually, which was probably why she thought she was so tough—wearing her favorite red jacket, olive green shirt, and capris. Her bushy brown hair and stormy grey eyes were enough to scare any kid.

She closed the book in her hands, completely making me lose my place, and turned it around to look at the front cover.

"Animal Farm?" She laughed. "Aren't you a little old to be reading a baby book?"

I just stared at her. I couldn't tell if she was being serious, and that deeply concerned me as a reader.

Then she noticed the note I left sticking out from inside the cover. She pulled it out, read it, and laughed harder. "Aww, and your grandma gave it to you?" she said spitefully. "Does she change your diapers too?"

"Give it back," I said tersely, trying to keep my breathing steady.

"Sure thing, Freckles," she replied, which frustrated me even further, on account of my freckled face. She reached it out toward me, but at the very last second, she ripped the front cover off and let it and the book drop to the floor right in front of me.

"Enjoy your animal book," she sneered, but all I could hear was my rising breath as I looked down at my now torn book, my face growing hard as rock. She turned and was about to saunter off. Then I shot my leg out just as she was taking her first step away, making her lose her balance entirely and drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

The majority of kids around us who saw what happened started howling with laugher. I smirked, then dropped it as soon as Rita managed to scramble back up, glowering at me with humiliated rage.

"Hey! Knock it off back there!" the teacher shouted at us, having looked up in response to the loud thud Rita made and the students' laughing.

Rita's eyes shot to the teacher, then back to me, giving me a look that clearly said that this wasn't over, and grudgingly slunk her way back to her seat.

My face slowly sobered up, my shoulders relaxing, as I bent down to pick up my book and torn cover. Then I took out some tape and carefully reapplied the cover to the book. I placed the note—which my grandmother put in for me when she mailed me some of her books to borrow—back into its place. It read:

Maxine,

I hope you enjoy these collections, as you've always done. Keep your creativity, inquisitiveness, and spark of adventure alive with them. I love you dearly.

Yours, Grandma Maureen

Sorry, Gran, I thought morosely, making a mental note to buy a new copy for her. Not wanting to be seen reading it again on the chance Rita decided to come back for more, I put it away in my bag, which contained some of the other books my grandmother loaned to me. There was a variety of action adventure, mystery thriller, fantasy, science fiction—there was even a couple of Star Wars novels thrown into the mix (Grandma watched A New Hope eight times when it first came out in theatres as a kid, the next two even more than that. That was how awesome she was). Shoved in next to all those were my card games I liked to collect and play, including Digimon, which was my all-time favorite game, despite it not being all that popular with most kids in my age group. I just spotted a deck of cards from the gaming store one day, taught myself how to play—and watched the show while I was at it—and I was instantly hooked. There was something about the idea of being friends with strange creatures and saving the world with them that drew me in like a moth to a flame. It was…a great escape from reality.

With a soft sigh, I zipped up my bag before anyone else could see them. I guess it served me right for letting Rita see what I was reading, giving her the ammunition to tease me with it. This kind of crap happened on a near daily basis, sometimes even from kids other than Rita. This was why I rarely ever talked to anyone else, steered clear of them, and was careful with expressing my interests in public.

Yeah, I know that's not really much of a charmed life to lead. What I wouldn't give to live one just like the characters in all those epic stories and games you see and hear about. Far off places, feats of heroism, adventure, mystery, true friends—heck, even a little magic wouldn't hurt in the long run. But deep down, I know that's not really how life works. It's just…life. And it sucks sometimes.

I looked around at all the other kids goofing off during our free time or fiddling with their cell phones, then over at the teacher, who had gone back focusing on the newsfeed video rather than the students. Then I opened up my textbook, figuring I might as well get started on the next assignment to stay ahead, while the news droned on in the background, which was now discussing the rise of violence and destruction of public property recently.

Sheesh, bad news never rests, does it?

When my last class of the day finally ended, I walked out of the public school building, beginning my usual route of cutting through the school's outdoor agricultural area (which was their fancy way of calling it a garden) to avoid the congested traffic up front. As I walked, I took out my case of Digimon cards and skimmed through them.

I only need two more defense cards and I'll have a straight modify set, I mused.

I was considering making a quick stop to the Gamer's Corner to pick up more cards before heading home for the day, when the last voice I wanted to hear called out from behind, making me freeze.

"Hey, Max! Where're you going? It's payback time!"

Aw, crap-baskets.

Rita was approaching me fast when I turned my head to look back at her.

"What's your rush, Freckles?" she said, fists clenching for a beat-down.

I tried to discreetly put my card case out her view, but Rita's sharp eyes spotted it immediately. She let out an imperious scoff. "You're seriously still playing that stupid game?"

"So what if I am?" I retorted.

"God, are you that determined to not have a life?"

I curled my lips angrily. Why couldn't she just leave me alone? "Well, I wouldn't call looking and acting like a bridge troll a life fulfilled either, but I wasn't gonna say anything."

I wish I hadn't said that last part, because she just got mad all over again, her eyes flashing. She shoved me hard, knocking me down and making me drop my case of cards. I winced in pain as I hit the ground, my palms getting scraped from the sidewalk pavement.

"It isn't fun, is it, landing on your butt?" she sneered.

After I struggled to sit up, I tried to reach for my case, but Rita grabbed it before I could even touch it. She ripped the lid off and let all my cards fly out and scatter all over the place. She threw the now empty case down at my feet as my cards fluttered to the ground all around me.

"These are a waste of time. Find yourself a normal hobby, Freckles," she said. With that, she walked back the way she came, leaving me all alone.

I fought back tears as I tried to gather all my cards, but the wind was blowing some of them away from me. I shakily brushed a wayward strand of my dark hair out of my face as I reached for my cards with my other hand. I thought, Dear Diary, Worst. Day. Ever!

Then, coming from the other end of the garden, vaguely familiar boy ran in and caught them before they were gone. Once he gathered them into his hands, he walked up to me, giving me a sympathetic look. I merely stared back, unsure of him at first.

"Here, let me help," he said gently, offering my cards back.

After a moment's hesitation, I took them.

After we both got all of my cards and put them safely in my case, I got up to fully face him with clear recognition. He was in a few of my classes, including homeroom; he usually sat up in the front, and would only speak up when he was giving an answer to a problem that he knew— which was a lot, actually. He was definitely one of the smarter kids in our class—most likely an honor's student. He had dark hair, brown eyes, and olive skin. He wore a leaf green button up shirt with khaki pants.

"I saw the whole thing. Are you okay?" he asked me, regarding my scraped hands, as well as my now dirty jeans and purple sweatshirt.

"I'll be fine…I'm used to it," I muttered, my head down. And the sad part was, it was true.

"You shouldn't be, you know," the boy said, making me look up at him again.

"Um, I guess not," I said. "But it's not like I can go to the teachers. They'd just tell me to ignore her. And my dad says pretty much the same thing." I glanced away with a discouraged frown, adding as more of an afterthought, "And even if they did do something about it, it doesn't mean she'd just stop. She'd go after me even harder for being a snitch."

His brows furrowed, seeming just as displeased with the school system's backwards way of handling harassment. "Yeah, I can see what you mean. They want to get rid of bullying, but don't really know how to do it." Then his face softened as he gave me a small smile. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'm not a huge fan of Rita either. She's always calling me things like 'know-it-all' and 'uber-genius', just because I actually do my stupid homework."

That made me crack a half smile.

"And don't ever believe what she says," he told me, "Digimon is not a waste of time. If it's what you love to do, who's she to tell you whether or not it's worth it?"

I stared at him. "You…you like Digimon?"

"Like it? I love it! It's my favorite game!" He pulled out an impressively stacked deck from his backpack pocket and showed it to me—his set mostly consisting of water type Digimon, offense, and upgrade cards. "And this isn't even my entire collection!"

My smile grew, actually pleasantly surprised. So, the smart kid loved Digimon, like I did. How come I've never noticed that before?

"You're Maxine, right?" he asked me, putting his cards away. "From Class A?"

"Um, Max," I said, a little nervously, as this was the first time I've really taken the time to acquaint myself with another student. "Just…just Max is fine."

The boy grinned at me. "Max…I like that. I'm Tito."

Letting out a quiet sigh in relief, I managed a smile back. "Nice to meet you, Tito."

"Likewise."

For a moment, neither of us said anything, but Tito was still smiling at me in a friendly way, while I just awkwardly rubbed my arm, not used to socializing for more than five minutes at a time. Come on, Max. Just find legitimate words to say and then say them.

"Um…thanks—for helping me with my cards and junk. That was…that was good."

Nailed it.

"You're welcome." Then, with a look like he'd just remembered something, he looked down at his watch. "Ah, shoot. I better get home to my little sister."

"Oh?" I said. "Gotta babysit her before your parents get home?"

"Yeah. How'd you guess?"

I pointed at myself. "Little brother. Been there."

Girl, your articulation is on fire today.

Tito chuckled. "Yeah, the joys of being the oldest. I'll see you around, Max. Maybe we could even play a few rounds of Digimon if you're up for it."

"Uh, sure. See you around," I replied.

"And don't forget what I said. Digimon is not a waste of time."

"I won't."

He turned and started walking away. I probably imagined it, but as I was watching him leave, I could've sworn I saw his backpack rustle ever so slightly, a muffled noise coming inside of it. Tito turned his head slightly, his lips barely moving, as if mumbling something, but he was already too far away for me to hear him anymore.

I blinked and shook my head, but when I looked more closely at it, it didn't move again. After a few seconds of confusion, I shrugged off the intuition.

It was time for me to go home too. I turned to face the path toward the garden exit. However, before I even took my first step, my eyes caught something out of place on the ground, right in front of me, glinting in the afternoon light. It was a card the same size and shape of all my other Digimon cards, except that it was deep blue. There was nothing on it but a yellow letter "D" in the middle, with what looked like a roaring, carnivorous dinosaur shaped in the middle of the "D."

"Huh?" I said as I picked it up and looked it over. Funny. I thought Tito and I got all of my cards together. How did I miss this? I didn't remember owning a blue card. I kept turning it with my fingers, examining it. When I did, the "D" in the middle seemed to appear and disappear with every turn, like a holographic image. It was a weird card, alright.

The only way for me to know what the card was for sure was to scan it through my card reader at home, so I continued on my way, leaving the school grounds for good. I decided to take the short cut home, cutting through the alleyway from behind an abandoned construction site. As I did, I glanced at the blue card in my hand before putting it in my pocket. I couldn't wait to find out what type of card it was. Maybe it was a rare Digimon with special attacks. I secretly hoped that it was a magical type of Digimon—that was usually my go-to type to play with.

I was coming up with theories on what it could be, but about halfway across the site, something snapped me right out of my thoughts.

I low hissing noise, like someone had left a gas faucet on.

I raised my head and looked around for the source, and when I did find it, I stopped entirely, taken aback.

Far on the other side of the site, in the middle of unfinished building pillars, was a white patch of fog, which, the longer I stared at it, seemed to get bigger and thicker with every second.

I blinked, astonished. That wasn't there before…was it?

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the murky mist, uncertain of what to do, when from somewhere inside the fog, a deep growl emerged.

What the…?

Then suddenly, a pair of glowing, sharp green eyes snapped open, and my heart stopped for a second, my breath caught in my throat.

Now, I don't know about you guys when it comes to encountering weird fogs with creepy eyes, but I'm pretty sure the general rule of thumb is, "Book it, fool!"

So I did just that. Hopefully, whatever was in there didn't see me, or wouldn't bother coming after me.

What even was that? Was that even real?

Those questions and more were running through my head as I practically zoomed out of the alley and continued to run down the sidewalk toward home. Because I was so spooked by the strange encounter, I was too distracted to remember to slow down before rounding the corner. If I'd done that, I probably would've had enough time to get out of the way of another running kid who was obviously in a hurry somewhere.

But I didn't. Instead, I collided right into him.

"Oof!" We both gasped as the impact knocked us both backwards. I groaned from hitting the ground—again. Then I sat up to face the boy who ran into me, and he did the same. The boy had wild, ashen blond hair that was mostly covered by a faded red baseball cap that has seen better days. He wore a brown jacket over a grey Henley shirt and blue jeans.

Then there was a loud, buzzing noise coming from right between where we both were sitting, making us look down. It was coming from some kind of electronic device. It was round and silver, with yellow buttons, a yellow strap on the back, and a yellow ring around a glowing screen. On the screen was a red arrow that was pointing to the direction I just came from.

What in the world is that?

Before I could ponder any more than that, the boy quickly swiped up the device, jumped up, and panted out a quick, "Sorry!" before he just ran off past me, not even giving me or anyone else a second glance. I simply sat there and blinked at him until he rounded the corner and disappeared down the path I had come from. My guess was that he was following that arrow on the device—whatever that device even was.

Hope that kid wasn't heading right for that thing, I thought before getting back up and brushing myself off. Then I proceeded on my journey home.

After a few more minutes of jogging, I finally made it to my apartment complex all out of breath. I lived on the top floor, so thank God we had an elevator. After a few minutes of standing impatiently in an enclosed space, I dashed through the hallway and, after digging around for my key, I entered my home.

We actually lived in a pretty decent sized apartment— with a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom each for me, my dad, and my brother, as well as a small spare room for guests. My dad was a hard-working man in the financing business, so it wasn't like we couldn't afford it.

My dad saw me first when I stepped into the living room, it being one of his days off. He looked away from the television, which was playing the news, and he frowned at me, the wrinkles on his face increasing. "Did you fall in the dirt again, Max?" he said.

I held back a grimace, figuring that after today, I must look a bit of a mess. But I wasn't going to tell him that I fell twice today, and once by force. "Um, I promise I'll clean up after I do my homework! Gotta go!" I said quickly.

I hurried to my room and locked myself in. From the other side of my door, I could hear my dad mumble, "Kids today," before he turned his attention back to the TV and turned up the volume, making a female reporter's voice louder as she talked more about fog sightings around various parts of the city.

I was starting to see what all the fuss was about now.

For a few moments, I leaned back against the bedroom door, catching my breath, while my mind was racing with just how weird of a day it's been—from Rita, to Tito, to that boy I literally ran into, to…whatever the heck that fog was and what was in it.

Once my breathing was back to normal, I looked down at the blue card still held tight in my hands. In all that excitement, I'd almost forgotten about it.

"You better be worth all this trouble," I muttered to it.

I approached my (admittedly cluttered) computer desk, where I usually kept my card reader, along with some of my other Digimon merchandise I'm not brave enough to carry around in public. I picked up my card reader with my free hand, and with my other, I slashed the blue card through the scanner.

I waited in anticipation as the reader processed the card, binary code running across the screen. But then the screen went blank, the entire thing shutting down. I frowned, disappointed.

"Huh, guess the card's a dud—WHOA!"

I yelped as electricity pulsed from my card reader, along with a strange, buzzing noise, as it was suddenly engulfed in a bright light. It startled me so bad, I accidently dropped it back onto the desk, putting my arm over my eyes.

After a long moment, the light finally faded down. I lowered my arm cautiously and saw, to my shock, that my card reader was gone. In its place was a whole new device. I instantly recognized its design; it looked exactly like the one that the boy had, except the buttons, the ring around the screen and the strap was violet instead of yellow. What is this thing?

I slowly walked towards it, reaching for it. I tapped it once with my fingertips, making sure it wasn't too hot or too cold. Luckily, it was neither. When I took it into my shaking hand and held it up to my face, I couldn't help but stare blankly at it. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that branded into the ring around the screen was a series of strange symbols, like some kind of digital code. I couldn't believe it. How did my card reader suddenly turn into this weird device? How could this be?

Then, with no warning, the screen on the device projected out a purple, holographic beam of light. Before I could even react, the beam passed harmlessly up and down my body, as if scanning me, followed by another, even brighter flash of purple light that flashed across my eyes. I blinked a couple of times, confused and a little bit dazed, before shaking my head. What just happened?

Then another, even weirder thing happened (just how weird can this day get anyway?). The device beeped, and, as if on command, my computer monitor blared to life. Oh, great. My card reader transforms and now my computer turns on all by itself. I wouldn't last five minutes in a Terminator movie with my machine luck.

The screen was shining white. Curious and somewhat alarmed, I leaned closer to see it more clearly. In the light, I could barely see lines of zeros and ones zip by, like the binary code from my card reader, or data. I was beginning to wonder why my computer was acting all haywire—when suddenly, the computer pretty much exploded in my face.

"AH!" I yelled as the force sent me flying backwards, causing me to land right on my bed. I held on tight to my new device. I quickly checked myself over, surprised to find that I wasn't hurt at all from the experience.

When I stood back up, I saw that my computer monitor was still glowing, but something—or someone—was emerging out of it, along with a white fog that quickly spread into my room…a fog not unlike the one I saw at the construction site earlier. It was almost like the screen itself was spewing out of the monitor, trying to get out. After several seconds of me waiting anxiously, whatever it was hovered right over the floor, right in front of me.

At first, it was hard to tell what exactly it was due to the mist all around, but it didn't take long for the room to clear back up. I squinted at the figure that was kneeling in the middle of the room. Then my eyes widened, my breath caught in my throat when I figured out in an instant that it was a Digimon—a real live Digimon. And not just any Digimon, but my favorite one too, but I was too shocked be all elated about it. Too shocked to even think. What was going on here?!

He looked exactly like the artwork on the card that I had; the one that I looked at every single day. He was wearing yellow, ragged clothes with some red trimmings and zippers here and there that almost resembled faces. He wore stitched brown boots on his feet and brown gloves on his hands. He wore an indigo colored cloak that masked the bottom half of his pale blue, elfish face, and an indigo cape with strange white symbols embedded on the inside part that flowed behind him. He had long, blond hair that grew slightly over his green eyes, and was also covered by a large, dark steeple hat with a skull embedded in the rim, making him look even more mysterious. In one of his gloved hands, he held a wooden staff with a dark yellow pedestal on the end that was shaped like the sun.

Holding the staff firmly in his hand, he slowly straightened and righted himself as he landed on the floor when he was completely out of my computer, showing that he was a few inches taller than me. All I could do was watch and take him in. What would you do? Would you think, Oh, my God! A Digimon just came out of my computer and is standing right in front of me!

Welcome to the nut house, bud.

The light that was glowing from the computer screen began to fade away. Once it was gone, the Digimon exhaled heavily and lifted his head, as if exhausted from an extremely long trip. Maybe he was.

He began to look around my bedroom, examining his surroundings. When his gaze finally landed onto me, I became still as a statue, having no idea what was going to happen next. The second he saw me, something seemed to flash across his eyes, though I wasn't sure what. Briefly, he glanced downwards at the still-glowing device I held in my hand, then back up to me. His eyes narrowed slightly. Then he started to take slow, deliberate steps toward me, and I braced myself.

"Maxine…we finally meet," he told me, and my bewilderment increased tenfold. How did he know my name?

My mouth opened, struggling to find words to say as he approached, but in the end, all I managed to get out was, "Have we—I mean…you know who I am?"

He stopped right before me, regarding me calmly. "In a manner of speaking."

After another long moment of tense silence between us, he said, "My name is Wizardmon, and I believe that you are my Tamer."

Whaaat?!

A/N- 'Sup, Digi-fans. Long time, no see.

This is actually a rebooted, polished version of the first fic I ever wrote and published almost twelve years ago on DeviantArt, Digimon Revived, which was sort of like a sequel/next generation AU to Digimon Tamers. While I enjoyed writing it, I was still just an awkward kid at the time, with hardly a clue of what I was doing. But now that I'm older and wiser, I'd like to start it over from scratch. If you're familiar, you'll find that this will be a lot different from what it once was. Hopefully, that'll be a good thing.