Disclaimer: Digimon belongs to Bandai and Toei Animation

All other OC's belong to me.

Ch. 2— Walking Among Monsters

They say that kids and adolescents these days are under more stress and suffer more mental strains than the previous generations. It's a serious problem that could lead to even more problems that last well into adulthood. Many factors could be the cause of this; peer pressure, bullying, school workloads, family dilemmas, etc.

Perhaps someone can tell me, if you'd be so kind…if a Digimon coming to life in your room is one of them?!

And not just any Digimon, but Wizardmon—who seemed to immediately know who I was, and claimed me as his…Tamer.

When he told me that, all I could do for a moment was stare back at him, stunned. I had so many questions right then.

Wizardmon closed his eyes. "You are confused. I can sense it," he said, and my eyebrows went straight up. He...he can sense what I'm thinking? What I'm feeling? "That's alright. I admit that there are some things about this that even I don't understand yet…" He reopened his eyes, staring right at me with purpose, "…But we will, in time."

"I…I don't…" I started to say, (though I wasn't sure how I was going to finish that sentence, to be honest), but was promptly interrupted by a pounding on my bedroom door, startling me out of my stupor and turning my gaze toward it.

"Max, what are you doing in there?" my dad's irritated voice barked from the other side. "Quit making all that racket!"

I was grateful to my past self for locking the door earlier. The absolute last thing I needed was my dad barging into this already crazy situation.

"Uh—sorry, Dad! Just moving some stuff around!" I replied, relieved that I had just enough sense to come up with a lie at a moment's notice.

"Well, finish doing what you're doing and go wash up! Dinner will be ready in a minute!"

After listening to his footsteps move away down the hall, I rubbed my eyes and sighed tiredly. Running my hand down my face, I turned to face Wizardmon again.

But when I did, all I saw was empty air. He was gone. I did a double take in surprise. Then I looked around, thinking I might've missed him. I checked in my closet, considering he may have gone to hide in there on the chance my dad was going to come in, but he wasn't in there, either.

Frowning, my eyes roved around my room one last time, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. So much so, that part me was wondering if I'd just imagined the last several minutes.

But looking down at the strange new device in my hands, I knew that wasn't true. Carefully, I placed it down on my desk. After staring at it for a moment, as if afraid it too would disappear along with Wizardmon, I turned and went to unlock the door.

But just as I was about to leave, I heard a faint movement behind me, followed by a low, soft voice.

"If you ever need me, just call for me, and I will come."

My grip tightened on the doorknob. I dared to glance back, but as suspected, no one was there.

Oh, I'm hearing voices now? Sure, why not?

It made me wonder what other strangeness was in store for me from this point on. Closing my eyes and shaking my head, I left my room, closing the door gently behind me.

I didn't get much sleep that night. Who would, after everything that happened? There were maybe one or two instances where I drifted in and out of consciousness, but eventually, about an hour before my alarm clock was scheduled to go off, I simply gave up trying to get anymore sleep and got up to get ready for the day.

Luckily, I knew where Dad kept his secret stash of espresso, aka "Coffee-zilla."

After a quick shower, I changed into my blue jeans, my favorite cream-colored shirt with soft blue sleeves and a crescent moon and some stars in the middle, and my purple hoodie sweatshirt. After tying my hair back, I grabbed my backpack, about to head for the kitchen, but the strange device on my computer desk caught my eye. I stared at it thoughtfully.

Would it be wise to take this with me? I considered. For some reason, I had a sinking feeling that I should keep it with me at all times, so I swiped it up. I hurried to the kitchen, intent on making a cup of coffee—something to help give me a jump-start out of my groggy state—before everyone else in the household was up. After some minutes, and a few sips later, I was wired.

Hope this doesn't backfire on me.

I was just about to make myself a bowl of cereal for breakfast, when I heard one of the bedroom doors bang open from down the hall, followed by running footsteps.

"Max! Max! Max! Max! Max! Max!" came the sound of a very ecstatic voice, getting louder and closer.

Oh, boy.

One second later, my nine-year-old brother, Andy, burst into the kitchen, jumping and grinning widely. He was already dressed and ready for school, wearing a long-sleeved blue shirt with a red stripe running across it and blue jeans. His messy dark hair, however, still needed combing really badly.

"'Sup, An-Dan?" I said, using his nickname.

"It's Tuesday!" he exclaimed.

"Yes. Riveting."

"You know what that means?"

I smiled knowingly. "That we're having tacos tonight?"

"No—well, yeah, but the other thing! Tonight's the season finale of Stranded!"

"Oh, yeah," I gasped, feigning surprise. Stranded was a show that Andy and I watched religiously on TV together. It was about dumb characters doing dumb things after being marooned on an island where spooky, unexplainable stuff happens. In other words: it was the best show ever.

"I can't believe it! We're finally gonna see what happened after Zack pushed the countdown button!" Andy ranted speedily. "Will the island sink into the ocean like Edmund said? Or will nothing happen at all? And what's with all those numbers Ludo was repeating? Does it all have to do with that weird mist monster we saw back in episode two? Or the underground bunkers?" He was vibrating with excitement, which made me question who's really been drinking the caffeine around here. "I can't wait 'till tonight! If I don't get answers on everything I will literally explooode!" He spread his arms wide to emphasize just how serious his problem was.

I snorted. Yep. That's my brother. Bit of a goofball, but still a sweet kid.

"You think you can hold out until then?" I asked him.

"I'll try. Oh, and remember to stay off the internet until after we see it to avoid spoilers." His cheerful demeanor suddenly darkened into something unsettlingly sinister. "We don't want what happened last season."

"Yeah, that put a real damper on our night," I said, poking him on the nose as I passed him to get some milk, making him drop the serious look and let out a short squeal of laughter.

As I was pouring myself a bowl of cereal, Andy asked something that nearly made me spill my milk, "Ooh, what's that? A new video game?"

"What?" I followed the direction of his eyesight, down to the device that I placed on the counter by my backpack.

"Is that one of those virtual pet games? Toma— tami—?"

"Tamagotchi," I provided stiffly, going over to pick it up. "And, uh, yeah? Kinda? Just don't tell Dad, okay? You know how he is about this type of stuff."

Andy said nothing for a moment, looking pensive. Then he brightened again. "Okay! This will be our little secret!"

I breathed a little easier. "Thanks, bro-bro."

I placed my device into my pocket to avoid being seen by anyone else—and just in time too. A few seconds later, another door opened, and soon my father entered the kitchen, dressed in his usual formal work clothes, his brown hair neatly combed.

"For Pete's sake, boy, you're gonna wake up the whole complex with all that yelling," he grumbled to Andy as he went to make himself a mug of coffee.

"Sorry, Dad," Andy replied, not really sounding all that sorry.

I felt the device from inside my pocket once more, thinking long and hard. "Hey, Dad?" I said uncertainly.

"Hm?" he grunted, letting me know he was listening, as he sat down across from me with his tablet.

I bit my lip before asking, "You know Digimon?"

He glanced at me from over his mug, unimpressed. "You mean that game you're so obsessed about? With the weird-looking monsters?"

Sheesh, when you put it that way, it sounds totally stupid. "Yeah, that. I was just wondering, was it around when you were a kid?"

He nodded. "I was about your age when it was the top seller. All the other kids were crazy about it, but I never could get into that sort of nonsense. To me, it was just a fad that came and went like all the other kid's toys."

Apparently, someone forgot to tell the actual Digimon that.

"Well, I still think it's pretty cool."

"Give it time, and you'll move on to the next popular thing too," he said drily. Then, a thought occurring him, he looked at me with a more relaxed expression. "But it is nice to see you passionate about something these days. It's better than the alternative."

My eyebrows creased together at the implications of his words, and I lowered my gaze and ate my breakfast in subdued silence, subtly dropping the conversation.

I didn't say anything else for the rest of our time at the table. I was secretly listening in on the various newsfeed videos that my dad was playing on his tablet while he ate his breakfast. There were some articles about new flu vaccines being distributed, bits of celebrity gossip, and VisTech launching their new anti-virus software computer. There wasn't anything about those strange fog sightings anymore, which I found odd, considering what I saw the day before.

With that in mind, along with Wizardmon appearing out of my computer, and what he told me, an idea formed in my mind.

First things first, I needed to make sure we still had enough breakfast bars to last until our next grocery run.

There was a huge nature park that ran several miles along the way from our apartment to the school—green and untouched by the cold, grey concrete jungle that was the city surrounding it. It was one of those "preserve the planet" projects the city came up with years ago, and it actually worked out pretty nice. Plants and wildlife thrived there. It was one of my favorite places to go to whenever I wanted some alone time.

And, in this case, it was the perfect place to meet up with someone in secret.

After I dropped Andy off at his school, I cut across the already bustling street and made my way toward it. I walked deeper into the forest, the trees getting thicker until I couldn't see the buildings anymore. Once I was in a good clearing, I looked around me, making sure that no one else was in the area. Seeing that I was completely alone, I began to grow uneasy with what I was doing, despite everything. I wasn't even a hundred percent sure what would actually happen.

Hope this works.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then I called out, "Wizardmon?"

Almost instantly, there was a gush of wind, making me blink, and suddenly Wizardmon was standing right in front of me, as if by magic (considering he was, by all respects, a wizard, that should've been obvious).

"Hello, Maxine."

I couldn't help but take a step back, startled by his abrupt appearance. This was all still so new to me. I still had so many questions; that was basically why I'd called him to me. And, to be quite honest, I wasn't entirely sure if I could trust him yet—considering I was in a place all by myself, with no one else around to help.

However, he seemed to pick up on my discomfort right away. He didn't come any closer.

"You have every right to be cautious, Maxine," he said gently. "But I promise, I will never hurt you."

I looked away awkwardly. I suppose if he did want to hurt me, he would've had many opportunities to do so already. Still…

"You…you can just call me Max," I said after clearing my throat. Then, with careful movements, I unzipped my backpack, pulled out one of my protein bars, and held it out to him.

He simply stared at it.

"I thought you might be hungry," I said, breaking the silence.

His expression (or lack of one, more like) didn't change, making me doubt my actions. I mean, could Digimon eat human food? Did Digimon eat at all? I was about to retract my arm, but before I knew it, Wizardmon had taken it from me in one swift motion.

"You are very kind. Thank you," he said before turning his back to me. I watched him as he lowered his cloak a few centimeters and took a few bites. I slowly leaned sideways to look around at him properly, but then his eyes flicked at me, and I quickly straightened back, suddenly taking interest in the trees nearby.

Ah, okay. So you don't like folks peepin' on your face. My bad.

Eventually, I made myself look back at him as he finished the protein bar. I took that time to really take him in, study every detail of him before me until he raised his cloak back over the bottom half of his face and turned to face me once more. Seeing him then, it was like it finally hit me.

"You really are Wizardmon...aren't you?" I said softly.

"Of course I am," he said. "And not only that, but I am your partner."

There was a moment of silence between us. My eyes narrowed slightly in a scrutinizing manner, lips pressed together, as I thought of something. I didn't know what made me want to do it, but I felt I had to.

Fingers twitching uncertainly at first, I stepped closer and slowly lifted my hand up, reaching out toward him. Wizardmon's eyes moved from me to my hand. Then, seeming to understand my intent, he began to reach his gloved hand out as well, the space between us getting narrower by the second.

When our hands finally pressed together, my skin feeling the leathery texture of his brown gloves, it was as if a jolt of electricity shot into me—starting from my hand, traveling up my arm, and throughout my entire frame, the hairs on the back of my neck prickling. It didn't hurt, though. If anything, it was warm, and kind of exhilarating.

I gasped in shock as I quickly retracted my hand. I looked down at it, then back up at Wizardmon, who was staring at his own hand, his brows furrowed contemplatively. Did he feel that too?

"Wow. Okay, so wait…" I muttered under my breath. I pulled out the device that was once my card reader. "So if you're my partner, and I'm your Tamer, then that would make this my…"

"Digivice, yes," Wizardmon finished with a nod.

I stared at it—my digivice. It looked so different from the ones from the show.

I shook my head , beginning to pace back and forth. "Okay, okay. So you're real. Digimon are real. This digivice is real. I get that now. But I still have some questions. First and foremost…" I stopped and looked at Wizardmon, who was watching me calmly, and gestured to all of him,"…how are you here?"

"I came here from the Digital World," he replied.

I nodded, though not really out of understanding, more like out of a quiet incredulity. "Right. The Digital World is real too. Shouldn't be surprised by that at this point. But…how did you get here? To the human world?"

He didn't answer at first, turning his gaze away from me towards the canopies above us musingly. After a while, he answered slowly, "There was a portal that led me to your world, and I took it."

I frowned. "Portal?"

He sighed. "To be honest, that is where I am confused as well. But there is one thing I am certain of…" his grip tightened around his sun staff, "…the barrier between our worlds has been weakened. I have felt it for some time. I don't know how, and I don't know who—or what—caused it, or why it was done, but I'm positive that it is so. In fact, there is a high chance I'm not the only Digimon to have made it here so far…and I won't be the last."

I listened raptly to him the whole time he spoke, my suspension of disbelief waning with every word. That certainly answered a lot of my questions. Of course, that didn't mean I wasn't anymore lost than I already was.

"Wait…" I said in a whisper, recalling the events of the day before. "I think you're right."

Wizardmon looked at me questioningly.

"Yesterday, before you showed up, I…I saw something, or I thought I did. I don't know what it was exactly, but from what you told me, I'm pretty sure it was—"

I was cut off by the loud clanging of the morning bell from somewhere in the distance. Suddenly made aware of how long I've been talking to Wizardmon, I checked the time on my cell phone, and then cursed under my breath. I was late for school.

I looked back up at Wizardmon, who regarded me with slight curiosity. "Sorry, I have to go to school now," I explained. "I'll, um…I'll see you later, then? I usually get out by midafternoon."

He nodded. "Very well. I will see you then, and we will discuss this matter further."

He backed away into the shadows of the trees, where he slowly faded away until he completely disappeared.

"Whoa," I mumbled, still not used to that. Then, remembering that I was on a very small time crunch, I turned tail and started sprinting for my school.

I didn't even have time to reach my locker to put away my bag and get my textbooks. I ran down the hall, hoping I wouldn't be stopped by safety patrol, and stumbled into my homeroom class in the middle of roll call, making everyone look at me.

"You're late, Maxine," my teacher, Mrs. Carmichael, said. She glared at me through her small glasses disapprovingly, and I swallowed between deep breaths. She was one of my stricter teachers. With her stiff, formal clothing, pale skin, straight brown hair tied up in a tight bun, and her icy blue eyes, it was easy to get on her bad side sometimes.

"Sorry, ma'am. I was held up," I said.

"No excuses; you know the rules. I will have to write you up."

I held back a groan as I trudged my way to the only available seat up front. From a couple of rows back, I heard Rita mutter, chuckling meanly, "Nice going, Freckles. What held you up? Did the circus try to recruit you into their freak show?"

I scowled as I sat down, my face heating up, but I didn't dare turn to give her a reaction out of me.

"I wouldn't get so witty, Miss Rita," Mrs. Carmichael snapped. "You're only one write-up away from yet another detention yourself. And I doubt your parents would want another phone call from me, wouldn't you say?"

"…No, ma'am," Rita growled in reply.

I admit that I got immense satisfaction out of that. Mrs. Carmichael may have been hard as nails, but the good part about it was that she called Rita out on her bullcrap. Everyone was equally susceptible to her harshness.

Then I heard a loud, badly repressed snort from right next to me, and I looked over to see that it was Tito, the boy who helped me with my cards the day before. He had a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his laughter in check. He met my gaze and gave a lop-sided grin.

"Roasted," he whispered, referring to Rita.

I blinked. Then I smiled back.

"And you, Tito," Mrs. Carmichael barked. "If I wanted pigs in my class, I'd have married a farmer. Do calm yourself."

We both quickly recomposed ourselves and straightened up—though, when Mrs. Carmichael turned back to the white board, we shared a humorous smile.

Like I said, everyone was susceptible, even the so-called gifted kids.

Most of the school day passed by in a blur for me. I hardly listened to any of my teacher's lectures, my body moving on autopilot in between classes. Even when Rita was throwing paper wads at me, I drowned it out, not reacting at all, which apparently annoyed her so much that she stopped, not getting any fun out of it. After what I've seen and been told, who'd blame me for being preoccupied?

The only time I was in absolute focus was when I was in the library for study period. I managed to snag an unused computer and started to do some research on the fog sightings all over the city. If what Wizardmon told me was correct, and based on how he came into existence here, and what happened the day before…I had a hunch that the fog patches had something to do with Digimon entering our world.

I opened up multiple tabs to several different news sites, trying to cross reference some of the reports and sightings. I was surprised, however, to find that most of the articles were gone. I checked through posts past yesterday, but other than a few discussing unexplained power outages in a couple of districts and the sudden rise in property damage, not much was given to me.

"Hmm," I hummed as I scrolled through several more articles, growing more confused and frustrated. I clicked on one that looked promising, but then scowled.

VisTech's new firewall launch could mean safer online browsing from digital threats.

I backed out of the post, moving on. After a while, I was on the verge of giving up for the day. An additional article caught my eye, but it wasn't exactly related to everything else I found. I skimmed the large-font title. Then, my mouth dropping open in horror, I rasped out, "Noooo!"

What Zack's death could mean for the remainder of the Stranded series.

"Sorry, Andy. I failed you," I moaned, rubbing my temples tiredly.

Yeah, time to call it quits for now.

The end-of-the-day bell couldn't have rung any sooner. Not wanting to be stopped by anyone, I hurried out of there as best as I could, not slowing down to a steady pace until I was off the school grounds and into the busy streets.

"Phew," I breathed out in relief, glad to finally be out of school.

I walked down the sidewalk, wondering whether I should meet up with Wizardmon at the park again, or just head back home. Dad didn't get off work for another two hours, and Andy usually had soccer practice on Tuesdays that lasted the same amount of time. It should be fine for Wizardmon to be there until then.

Hope Wizardmon was able to occupy himself while I was in school, I thought, while also wondering where we went when he disappeared.

I was about halfway toward my apartment, when a sudden vibration from my pocket made me jump in surprise.

"Geez," I groaned, pulling out my digivice, which was shaking and beeping in alarm, the screen blinking.

At this rate, I'll be lucky not to get a heart attack from all these jump-scares.

Frowning down at my digivice, I pressed one of the buttons below the screen, hoping that in doing so, it would stop going haywire, and it did—for a couple of seconds. The screen then turned a bright blue, with an equally bright red arrow spinning around erratically.

"A compass…?" I muttered, puzzled, watching as it spun around few more times before eventually froze.

"Why'd it stop?" I asked myself.

The arrow blinked a few times, as if saying, "Look where I'm pointing, dummy, and you'll see."

I raised my head in the direction the arrow was guiding me to. At first, I didn't see anything out of ordinary; just pedestrians, vehicles, and the many buildings. But then, just over the skyline, I saw it. A strange, blue beam of light was projecting straight up into the sky.

"What the…?" I said.

My digivice beeped, blinking in that direction more insistently.

I could take a hint. Picking up the pace, I started toward wherever that light was coming from, weaving my way around people, cars—nearly getting run over a couple of times, leaving very angry drivers behind—and moving between buildings. The beam of light died down on my way, but my digivice kept pointing the way, keeping me on the right track.

Eventually, I found myself in a junkyard of some kind.

And in that junkyard, a large patch of gray fog was forming, that hissing noise filling my ears.

I stood several feet from the fog, observing it uncertainly. Anything could be in there. My digivice, however, kept pointing right at it. I stared down at it, then back up at the anomaly.

A moment later, with a determined glare, I charged right at it.

Time to find out what's really going on here.

I honestly didn't know what to expect when I ran into the fog, but let me tell you, it was no walk in the park. For one thing, I couldn't see where I was going. I was basically going in blind. For two, the second the mist hit my face, I was hacking up a storm. I quickly pulled my sweatshirt collar over my nose, hoping to filter out at least some of it with ventilation.

After going forward several more feet, feeling like I've ventured deep enough, I stopped and started looking around, careful not to trip over any heaps of junk lying around—from discarded bikes to broken down appliances, and even car parts. But I could barely see ten yards ahead of me. The place looked haunted with all of this mist. When I waved my hand in front of me, the fog wavered along with it, and if I looked closely enough, bits and pieces of the mist would sprout tiny zeroes and ones.

"This is definitely not normal," I mused aloud, carefully stepping over a turned over fridge. "I wish I had some glasses, or even some goggles."

"Heheheheheh!" came a nasally, high-pitched laugh that echoed all around me, sending chills up my spine.

My eyes darted around, trying to see through the mist, but couldn't find anything. That laughter came again, coming in more clear, this time from somewhere behind me. I spun around. Squinting, I started to make out a shape from on top of one of the trash piles. It had a scrawny build, with a large, round head and long, pointy ears that stood straight out from both sides of its head like a bat's. Its glowing red eyes poured down, staring right at me. The bits of fog around it cleared up some, allowing me to see it fully. Its body was a sickly, scaly dark blue, covered by brown shorts, with a wide mouth that stretched all across its face into an unnerving grin, showing its yellow, rotted, sharp teeth. Spikes protruded all along its back.

My eyes widened. Was that a Digimon?

I didn't get the chance to ask it. Because a few seconds after we made eye contact, it released a deafening screech. Then, with no warning, it leaped off the garbage mound—straight toward me, baring its long, sharp claws.

"Oh, crap!" I yelled. I dived out of the way. The creature landed where I had stood, its claws embedded deep into the ground. Slowly, it turned its head toward me, its grin widening if possible.

"Heheheheh!"

Holding back a shudder, I scrambled back up and made a run for it. I could hear the creature start to chase after me, cackling the whole time. I quickly maneuvered my way around a heaping mountain of rusted car skeletons, hoping to throw him off.

But then…

"NIGHTMARE BEAM!"

A horrible explosion knocked me off my feet, causing me to skid across the ground. Groaning from the fall, I looked back to see that the entire car pile had been blasted into the air, caused by a bright green beam of light. And to my horror, one of the cars was careening right at me, ready to crush me. I only had time to scream and put my arm over my face, hoping that my death would be quick and painless.

There was a thundering crash, but I didn't feel any impact. Cautiously, I lowered my arm, looking up, and I gasped in amazement.

Wizardmon stood firm in front of me, his cape billowing behind him. The car was suspended in midair by his outstretched hands, which glowed a fiery yellow-orange.

Still keeping the debris at bay, he glanced over his shoulder at me. "Max, are you alright?"

In my awe, I managed to utter with a tiny nod, "Uh huh."

Then something caught my attention from ahead of us. The creature was scurrying over the junk piles like a giant rat. Then it charged toward us, looking gleeful that it found another person to torment. "Watch out!" I warned, pointing at it.

With swift movements, Wizardmon made a circular motion with his arms, clenched his hands over his chest, then thrust them out, glowing ever brighter. Suddenly, the car was engulfed in flames and streaking toward the creature like a rocket booster. It rammed into the creature and crashed into a wall of garbage in a hulking blaze, the heat washing over my face in the aftershock.

"Whoa," I whispered, not for the first time that day, at my partner's abilities. Then I blinked at the gloved hand that was held out before me shortly after, taking me a moment to register that Wizardmon was offering to help. After some hesitation, I took it, and he gently pulled me back up to my feet.

"Thanks," I said.

He looked like he was about to respond, but then he stiffened, turning back to glare at the flaming wreckage. "It's not over yet," he said lowly, his sun staff materializing out of nowhere in his hand.

As if on cue, the creature clawed his way out of the pile of flaming metal and debris. It staggered to its feet, eyes gleaming at us, its grin still plastered on its face.

Then my digivice vibrated once more. I took it out, and the screen projected out a circular screen which showed a holographic image of the creature, with written texts underneath it. Eyes roving over it once, I realized with bewilderment that it was information on the creature—no, not creature, a Digimon.

"Gremlinmon," I read aloud. "A nasty, mischievous virus type Digimon of the demon clan. Champion level. Special attacks: Nightmare Beam and Wreckage Claw."

I barely finished reading when the Digimon, Gremlinmon, sprang at us again.

"WRECKAGE CLAW!"

His claws glowed a bright green as he raised them to strike, but just as he slashed them down, Wizardmon put himself between me and him. Gremlinmon's claws locked against Wizardmon's staff, sparks flying from the impact.

"You are not in the Digital World anymore," Wizardmon ground out as he pushed back against Gremlinmon's force. "There's no need for this madness."

The only reply Wizardmon got was an animalistic snarl from Gremlinmon, saliva spraying from his mouth as he tried to snap his fangs at Wizardmon.

With a growl, Wizardmon thrust a hand out and chanted, "THUNDER BOMB!"

There was a crack of thunder as a ball of lightning surged from his fingertips and hit Gremlinmon square in the chest, who howled in pain. The blow sent him flying several feet back, smoke searing from his electrocuted body. Claws clutching the ground, he forced himself into a hunched position, hissing ravenously at us.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, mostly to myself. "Why is he acting like this?"

"He's a wild Digimon," Wizardmon said, looking at Gremlinmon with something akin to revulsion. "Rampant and erratic. I can see it in his eyes; all he knows and ever wants to do is fight and load the data of other Digimon. He can't be reasoned with."

Gremlinmon straightened to his full height, took a deep breath, and unhinged his jaw.

"NIGHTMARE BEAM!"

That horrible ray of green light fired out of his mouth, coming toward us like a tsunami.

Fortunately, Wizardmon was quick to counteract.

"MAGICAL GAME!"

A powerful blast of blue lightning streaked out of his staff, meeting Gremlinmon's attack halfway. I could feel the energy from the two attacks coursing all around me, growing more unstable the more they clashed against each other. I squinted from the brightness of the attack. Stray bolts of green and blue lightning burst in various directions, striking anything in their line of fire. One nearly hit us both, but Wizardmon easily redirected it with his free hand, still keeping his gaze locked on Gremlinmon.

"You leave me no choice," he muttered under his breath. Then, placing both hands on his staff, his face became hard with concentration, and his lightning spell grew stronger and brighter. Soon, his attack overcame Gremlinmon's, surging through the air and hitting him head-on. He let out a wailing shriek. Then, to my surprise and confusion, his body slowly dissolved into hundreds of little, red bits of particles. And then he was simply…gone. Not long after, the fog all around us faded away as well, the area becoming clear again, leaving no trace of any monsters being there.

Well…except maybe the piles of junk that was still on fire.

"Did Gremlinmon just…die?" I asked, breaking the long silence.

Wizardmon lowered his staff, his stature relaxing now that the threat was gone. "Not exactly—not by your world's definition," he said. "When Digimon take more damage than they can handle, their physical forms can no longer function. So they revert back to their primary data code, back to the Digital Realm—that is, unless their opponent decides to load their data in order to get stronger." He frowned at the few remains of particles floating in the air where Gremlinmon had once been. "But I try not to partake in such a thing."

"Huh," was all I could say, letting that information sink in.

I had a lot more questions now than ever, but before I could ask him, a new sound came to my attention: sirens blaring in the distance, but getting louder by the second.

Wizardmon and I looked at one another.

"Let's take this conversation somewhere else," I said urgently.

THIRD PERSON POV….

Meanwhile, a mere three blocks away, a boy sat on a bench, looking down at a familiar-looking device in his hand—silver body with blue buttons, blue strap, and blue ring around the screen with digital code. His brows were furrowed in puzzlement. His digivice had been beeping for the past several minutes, and he had been hesitant on responding to it.

But now it had gone radio silent.

"Huh," he said when it didn't go off again. "I guess the problem took care of itself."

"Good! 'Cause I ain't in the mood to fight with a stomach full of fish tacos!" came a voice from his backpack sitting next to him. It wriggled for a moment before a furry, white head popped out, with purple markings jagged along its large, green eyes. It looked up at the boy. "Can we go get cinnamon buns?"

The boy shot him a look. "You just said you were full," he deadpanned.

"Yeah, so?"

"You know, eating all that food will make you sink right to the bottom of the lake, not to mention, get a really bad stomach cramp."

"No way! Digimon process food differently from you humans! It doesn't affect me at all!"

"Pretty sure you're just making that up."

The creature gave a devious smile. "Maybe. Wanna try and prove it, Brain Boy?"

The boy shook his head, but he was smiling all the same as he ruffled the creature's red-orange mane along the center of its head. "You are incorrigible, you know that?"

"Ha! I don't even know what that means!" the creature said. Then, after a pause, he added, "No, seriously, what does that mean?"

"It means my snack budget is gonna be nonexistent very soon." He stood up from the bench, carefully taking his backpack and putting it on. He glanced back in the direction that his digivice was pointing earlier, deep in thought for a few moments.

"Come on, Tito!" his partner insisted, snapping him out of it. "I made a vow to try every type of food your world can offer, and I'm gonna stick to it!"

"Okay, okay, geez!"

With that, they took off for the bakery, thoughts of whatever anomaly was out there leaving the boy's mind for the time being.

MAX'S POV….

Several minutes later found us back in the safety of my bedroom, me sitting in my desk chair, and Wizardmon standing in the middle of the room—well, not really standing, more like levitating a few inches off the floor. Semantics.

"So that fog…it's called a Digital Field?" I reiterated to ensure I had that information correct.

Wizardmon nodded. "From what I understand, it is remnants of digital information leaking into your world. Basically, every time a Digimon comes through, a small fragment of the Digital World comes with them."

"I knew it," I muttered, frowning at the floor in thought. "I've been hearing about weird patches of fog being reported on the news lately. I didn't think much of it at first, but after what I saw yesterday, and what happened today..." I looked up at Wizardmon, "…you were right, about other Digimon coming into the real world."

He looked away. "A part of me hoped that I was wrong."

"Why? Because of Digimon like Gremlinmon?" I asked.

He didn't answer, keeping his eyes averted.

My mind kept going back to our little skirmish, remembering the crazed look in Gremlinmon's eyes, hearing his maniacal laugh as he chased me all over the junkyard and did whatever he could to try to tear us limb from limb. A part of me had always wondered what it would be like to battle with real-life Digimon; that it would be so awesome and epic.

But to experience it first-hand like that…

"Are a lot of you like that? So…" Battle-hungry? Vicious? Feral? There were a lot of words to describe what we saw, but in the end, I settled for, "…violent?"

Wizardmon let out a soft sigh before locking his gaze back onto me. "Max, you must understand. For us Digimon, fighting has always been our sole purpose—what we were created to do. For some, we can evolve past this mindset and find our own purpose. But overall…there are still so many of us who only have sight for combat and loading the data of those we defeat for power."

The solemn tone in his voice made me stare at him with slight concern for a long moment. There was…quite a bit to unpack from that, especially coming from a kid's game.

"You seem to have turned out okay," I pointed out, while mentally adding, and still be amazingly capable in a fight.

Wizardmon was quiet at first. Then he surprised me by releasing a light chuckle. "Maybe so," he said. "But from now on, whenever we encounter a Digital Field, or a Digimon we aren't familiar with, we proceed with caution."

"Fair enough," I agreed. I shot a glimpse at my clock; Dad and Andy should be home any minute now.

"So, Max," Wizardmon said, bringing my attention back to him, "is there anything else you wish to know?"

That question gave me pause. There were actually quite a lot that I wished to know, like how Digimon were able to come into existence at all, or how the so-called barrier between or worlds was weakened. But based on what Wizardmon had told me, not even he knew. Plus, I didn't want to keep bombarding him with so many questions at once.

In the end, I decided on simply asking the million-dollar question—the one I've been asking myself since the night before.

"Just one: Why us?" I held out my digivice in plain view. "Why me and you?"

Wizardmon hovered closer, staring at my digivice in deep thought. I just sat and waited. Finally, he spoke, his tone almost wistful, "Back in the Digital World, Digimon Tamers were only ever talked about in my time, so much so that some Digimon consider them a myth now. However…it was said that, for a human and Digimon to become partners, there is ultimately a specific reason. For some, the explanation comes easy, for others…" he turned his gaze back to me, "…it takes time to show itself."

So, basically, he was saying that he didn't know either. He couldn't have come up with a more cryptic way of putting it, but I digress.

"Alright, then," I said. "How about, for now, we just focus on not getting torn apart by bad Digimon—or really anything else that could cause us trouble?"

The only part of Wizardmon's face that was visible was his eyes, and yet, somehow, I could tell that he had an expression of mild amusement at my suggestion. Or perhaps it was the subtle dryness in his tone when he replied, "Sounds reasonable enough."

In spite of myself, I smirked. "I should hope so."

Shortly afterwards, I heard the front door to my apartment open, followed by two sets of footsteps enter, and then Andy's voice hollering out, "Max! We're home! Let's get the snacks ready!"

"Not until after you shower up and finish your homework," my dad told him, and was rewarded with a disappointed groan from the boy.

"That'll be the fam," I said. "Is there anything you want me to bri—aaannnd you're gone."

I'd turned back to where Wizardmon was, only to find myself, once again, talking to an empty space.

"Okay, Batman." I huffed, blowing a wayward strand of hair out of my face. That was going to take some getting used to.

I looked down at my digivice pensively. Then I carefully placed it at the far corner of my desk—just out of plain view of anyone who were to walk in and look around—right in front of a propped up picture frame. It had a photograph of me, Andy, and my dad grinning broadly at the camera while on a hike in the mountains from many years ago. There was a fourth person in the picture as well, but that part had been folded back; out of sight, out of mind. Although, that didn't stop me from getting that heavy, bittersweet feeling in my chest whenever I happened to give it a passing glance.

I stood up and, with one last look at my digivice, I left my room to get started on dinner. I had hardly a clue about what was in store for me in the days to come, now that I was a Digimon Tamer.

One thing was for certain: things just got a little more interesting around here.

A/N- Looks like Wizardmon isn't the only colorful character Max has come across so far...

And yes, Stranded is indeed a shameless parody of Lost, a series that my family collectively obsessed over while it was on the air. Every showing was just us getting whiteboards and making graphing charts, trying to connect every dot of the mysteries XD