A.N.: You know, I cannot express how happy I am to finally be able to update this story again, after such a long time. It's been a frustrating and complicated journey to get back to this point, and if you follow either of my Tumblr accounts you may have some idea as to why. But! While I can't offer an ironclad guarantee of regular updates again, I can tell you that after what has felt like an eternity of soul-searching, I finally managed to find that creative wellspring once more. Although I still have to juggle my creative pursuits with my obligations to my children's health, I definitely feel as though I've reached a point where I can devote some time to writing again.

I'm just glad to be back, and I am beyond grateful to those of you who have been so patient with me and waited all this time for the chapter to release. I certainly don't plan on making you wait so long for the next update.

Tuesday, 2:30am (2:30pm local time)

"Well, lads, truth be told the only person as could make that sort of order is the Lord of the Fastness himself."

Ken sighed. They'd been talking in Jou's chambers for what felt like far too long given the lack of any progress.

"I thought you said no one gets to speak to the Lord," he said after a moment, realising Amund was done. "That he's sleeping all the time."

Amund sighed. "Aye, well, close enough. There's folk who've grown up and grown old waiting for their audience to come round. But his word is law, and there's precious few in the Fastness as would stand against it outright. Sleepful he might be, but he's kept us safe in these dark times."

"If we could go and find the others we might be able to end your 'dark times' though," Jou said. "Wouldn't it be better for everyone—including the Lord—if you weren't so isolated in this place? If you didn't have to worry about the safety of anyone who leaves? Surely there must be a way for a meeting be brought forward somehow."

Ken nodded. "Besides. Even leaving aside the fact that we need to leave in order to find the others and help them, I'm not really sure how much longer this city will remain a safe haven for those who live here. It's just as we said to the, uh…advisers, before. Now that it's this 'Time of Merging'—oh! Oh, of course! I'm such an idiot!"

"Ken?" Jou asked, leaning forward in his chair.

The sudden realisation was strong enough that he could have kicked himself for not working it out sooner.

"It's so obvious."

"I'm sure it is, lad," Amund remarked. "But do ye mind lettin' the rest of us in on what it is we're missing?"

Ken fished his D-Terminal out of his pocket. "It's these," he said. "I've been thinking about it for hours, and I just couldn't work out how we were managing to send and receive messages to everyone back home. At first I got distracted by the fact the signal was blocked from inside the Fastness, but the real mystery was how they manage to function at all. This isn't the digital world, and it's not Earth, where we have data networks everywhere to carry the signal. By rights, they shouldn't work here."

Jou frowned. "That's a good point, actually. I guess we were all just so used to them working wherever we were that we never questioned it."

"Exactly. And we've had other things on our minds, to be fair. But with all the enforced downtime I've had since we arrived, I got to thinking about it, and it just didn't make sense. Unless we factor in what's going on right now."

There was a short silence. Amund waved for him to continue. "Aye, and that is…"

"The prophecy we've been translating mentioned 'a great merging of worlds'. Well, when we got to that point we sort of skipped over it, because we'd already worked that much out. After all, somehow the digital world is allowing digimon into this one, and creatures which aren't digimon are appearing there. Not to mention the fact that we're being dragged across straight from Earth without needing anything we would normally consider a gate."

He laid the D-Terminal on a small table between the others. "But because we were so focused on trying to catch up and get ahead of things, we missed something obvious. We've been concentrating on the people and creatures that have been affected, which is understandable given the circumstances, but we've not stopped to consider that it might not only be them. I think the worlds themselves are merging into each other. It would explain why our terminals are working, but also why they don't function everywhere: there must be weak spots. Probably the areas you all appeared in first. The D-Terminals—and our phones—are getting signal through them which exists in the two other worlds. When you get too far away, or there's too much interference, they stop working. And that's not all. It—"

"—It explains things like disappearing landslides, and forests burned by acid which magically return to normal," Jou said, sitting up so fast his broken glasses tilted sharply on his face. "It could easily be caused by the digital world, where everything is made of data instead of physical material."

Ken nodded, and turned to Amund. "But if I'm right, we really can't just wait around for someone to decide when they have enough people spare. There's no reason to believe that the merging is going to stop here. If it's anything like the problems which have faced the digital world and Earth in the past, it's just going to keep getting worse until it's put right again. We have to find the others, and we have to go before it gets so dangerous that we're trapped here."

Jou shuddered. "It could be far worse than that. Don't forget, the digital world has come close to being completely erased before. It was really only able to recover because it's made of data. So forget just being trapped here, if we can't fix whatever's going on, eventually this city might simply not exist anymore."

For long minutes, Amund didn't speak. He simply stared down at the D-Terminal, frowning at it as though it might be about to attack.

"It won't be easy," he mumbled at last. He shook his head for emphasis and slumped in his chair, tugging absently on his beard.

"Surely the Lord or his advisers have to see the sense in Ken's theory?" Jou asked.

"Aye, ye might think so. But talking of sense to a bunch of bureaucrats is like askin' a blacksmith to bake a cake. Oh, he might have heard how it's done. But like as not he's no real idea." He sighed, long and wearily. "No, if it's a cake as you want, then see a baker. And if it's sense… Well, I guess we'll just have to head on over to Metod and hope he's still working on the rota for next week."

"Metod?" Wormmon asked, seemingly as much to Ken as Amund.

The big man at least seemed to have gotten over his initial discomfort around the digimon, because he smiled and nodded, apparently not bothered by who had spoken.

"He's head guard. Metod draws up all the shift rotas, and decides who gets gate duty. He's a good man. Does a lot with not too much. If we can't get far with seeing His Lordship, our best bet is to see if he can slip someone with half a brain on night shift at the side gate, so we can slip out without raising a fuss."

"We?" said Jou, even as Ken stared at the man with wide eyes.

"I'll not be sending the pair of ye off like that!" Amund cried, gesturing to Jou's leg. "T'would be a despicable thing. Both such young lads, and important ones at that! No, I'll be coming along, as guard and guide."

Ken frowned. "But you said you've never even visited the surface before," he pointed out.

"Well, there's plenty of time for new experiences, I say," Amund replied, grinning, "but in all honesty it mayn't come to that. There's always been tunnels as run all the way down the mountains, and in recent years they were extended to link us to the Forest City direct. No one with sense wants to be wandering around on the surface these days. And until about, oh… ten or twenty year ago, we had good, steady contact with them down there."

"So…why did it stop?" Jou asked.

"Ahh, well. Y'see, Fae and Fairies and the like generally aren't that fussed about the folk here in the Fastness. We're mostly dwarves and humans, and other samelike races. Practical folk, is what I'm saying. None of this prancing around under the trees stuff. So, there was never much of what you might call a fond relationship between the two places. If weren't for the fact they're our only remaining neighbours, like as not we wouldn't have bothered making a safer road to begin with."

Amund sighed. "All the same, for a while it was good, having the contact. We sent them metals and stone for building, and they sent us wood and all manner of fresh food and fruits. But then, what with the patrols stepping up, and the mountains getting more treacherous, the Fastness just didn't have the manpower to risk caravans anymore, tunnel or no. And when we stopped sending our own folk, they stopped sending theirs. We live off what we grow in the Sun Gardens these days, and we don't venture topside unless we have to.

"As for the tunnel, I've no notion of what state it's in. Could be cave-ins, could be completely overrun. But it could well be mostly fine still, and that's the likelier chance if you ask me. Dwarves and those they train build well, and build strong. I'd hope it's just the regular dangers we'd face, and if your friends here can be as much help as they were against the olitiau they took down, we'll make it. No fear."

Amund's words weren't the most encouraging Ken had ever heard, but they were a far cry from the least. And if the information—or lack of it—from home was anything to go by, they didn't exactly have the luxury of waiting around all that much longer. All the while they were stuck in this underground city, everyone else was held up as well.

Then again, there was the problem of Jou's leg. Even if the tunnel were safe, how was he meant to traverse it? To judge from what Ken had seen of the place so far, it was a city of steps and staircases, not ramps. The wheelchair would be hopeless, and he was reasonably sure you were meant to rest a broken ankle a good few days at least before risking crutches, especially with such an old-fashioned splint.

And seeing as they weren't in the digital world, Gomamon would have every bit as much trouble sustaining an evolution as he would in the real world. If Jou wore himself out struggling along, they'd end up down a fighter, too.

To judge from Jou's expression, Ken wasn't the only one thinking the risks through. It wasn't going to help either of them to rush into anything. But really, how long could they afford to wait?

Tuesday, 2:45am (2:45pm local time)

Hikari woke from strange dreams—dungeons, dim rooms—and wondered if she were still asleep somehow.

But no. Impossibly, the vast bed with its downy pillows and silky sheets, set in a grand, tapestry-lined room—it was real. As real as Tailmon, who seemed to be waking up from a nap of her own in an ornate chair which sat in the corner.

"What time is it?" she asked, stretching.

Hikari smiled. "I was just wondering that myself." She reached for her D-Terminal. "I'm so glad this is working again. It was the worst when I was stood in front of the whole Council, all of them waiting for me to do something, and then…dead battery. I honestly thought they might throw me back in that prison cell."

Tailmon's face crinkled into an expression Hikari couldn't quite place.

"I'm torn," her partner explained, apparently having no such trouble reading Hikari herself. "Part of me would have wanted to maul them for locking you up—but another part would just have been glad to see you safe when we arrived. And if you'd been in one of those cells, we would have found you before you just walked off into mortal peril, and you wouldn't have had to."

"I'm not sure about that" Hikari replied. "I think I would have had to go anyway. I mean, the battery problem would still have needed solving." She shrugged.

Tailmon shook her head. "Someone would have had to go. It didn't need to be you. And there's no way Taichi would have let—"

"No! No! There's no way I'd have let Taichi do it either! It was… it was my responsibility. Besides, he's so brave. We don't even know if it would have scared him enough. Or, scared him quickly enough, at least. What if he'd been hurt?" Hikari sighed. "Hurt more, anyway. I can't believe he tried to pretend he was fine."

"Really?"

"Well, okay. Fair point. I can understand why he didn't tell me, I suppose. Though he should have told the others." She sighed, shaking her head. "I think it's probably just as well that things worked out like they did. If I'd still been here when you arrived, we'd probably have started arguing about it all, and how would that have looked to the Elders? I feel as if they had a hard enough time taking us seriously as it was."

"Some of them, maybe," Tailmon said, hopping out of the chair. "But aside from that one old man, the Elders seemed to take this prophecy very seriously. You wouldn't have been in any danger. I almost can't believe I'm saying this, but, considering how unpleasant our arrival was, I feel very safe here. Everyone seems to be tripping over themselves to help us now they know who we are.

Hikari nodded. "It makes a change, at least. Come on, let's go see if the others are still awake. It's still the middle of the afternoon here, and Taichi said something about being given travelling gear today. Although I don't really see how we can leave at the moment."

Her legs ached as she shuffled her way out of the bed and across the room. Was that just from the walking? Apparently she was more out of shape than she'd thought. It was probably just as well they'd have to stay a while; she'd need the time to build up her stamina again.

"Do you think they have a gym here?" she asked as they made their way into the hall. "Actually, nevermind that. Do you think they could put labels on these doors? I was so tired before that I don't remember if Koushiro's room is to the left or right. And they all look the same! I'm lost already."

Tailmon grinned. "It's this one," she said, pointing.

"Yes but you're cheating. I know you can smell the others."

"Correction, I can smell the food. I think I could go for a late lunch, although we'll have to hurry if we don't want the others to finish it all off without us."

Hikari didn't need telling twice. Just living with Taichi and Agumon was bad enough, let alone the appetites of two more digimon as well. Ignoring the faint burn in her calves and thighs, she rushed over to the door in Tailmon's wake. Having already experienced the hospitality the Forest City had to offer, she didn't want to miss out if she could help it.

By the sounds of Tailmon's frustrated sigh as she opened the door, they were almost too late. Hikari followed closely behind, wondering if it would be easier to just ask for some lunch of her own. She glanced around the room and froze, eyes wide, as she saw Takeru sitting awkwardly on a sofa set against the far wall.

Oh no, she thought, clapping her hands over her mouth to try and stop the sudden burst of laughter. It wasn't enough.

"I'm sorry," she gasped between bouts of giggling, because Takeru seemed devastated by her reaction, and the others were looking at her as though she'd done something monstrous. "I know it's not funny. It's just…you look like Link!"

Takeru, bright red beneath his remaining bandages, put his head in his hands and groaned. He sank into the seat of the sofa as though he were trying his best to disappear, and said from somewhere between his fingers:

"See, I told you Patamon. This is awful. I hate everything."

She was being cruel, really. Poor Takeru had been through so much already. He didn't deserve to be laughed at. And realistically, they were all going to look just as ridiculous in a few hours, if that porter had been to be believed. But—

"It's the hair," Taichi remarked, just as Hikari had managed to get her giggles under control.

The hands clamped firmly over her mouth did nothing to stop a particularly ungraceful snort of laughter as poor Takeru turned to him, visibly mortified.

Taichi grinned. "Best to let everyone get it out of their systems," he said, shrugging. "Honestly, it's not that bad. It's just…different, right?"

"Easy for you to say," Takeru said, still looking very wilted.

Koushiro looked up from the desk, where he'd been frantically writing in the same small journal Hikari had seen him with when she'd first arrived.

"See if he's still as confident when we have these promised 'fittings'," he advised, grinning as Taichi cried out: 'Hey!' in protest. "From what I've seen of the way people here dress, I doubt we'll be setting out in trainers and summer-wear like we did in the digital world."

"Besides," Hikari added, because she really hadn't meant to hurt Takeru's feelings. "Anything has to be better than being stuck in the same clothes for days on end, right? I wasn't even with you for most of it, and that was bad enough."

Tailmon sighed. "I don't particularly care how any of you look," she said. "If they can give you some of that armour they wear so that you're safe from being shot, I'll be much happier. I don't like this world so far. It's much too dangerous for you."

The room fell silent. She was right, Hikari knew as much, but she couldn't help wishing they could have kept the jokes going a little longer. It had been nice, to sit and laugh at Takeru's ruffled feathers for a minute, and forget about just how serious a mess they'd found themselves in.

But we're going to get out of it again, she told herself firmly. We're going to find the others, and figure out what we need to do, and everything is going to be alright. Just like last time.

Tuesday, 4:04am (4:04pm, local time)

If Yamato had thought the corridors to Cahir's office long and winding, it was nothing compared with the march to meet Their Graces. The stairs seemed to wind on and on forever downward, spiralling like the remnants of his sanity.

He didn't bother to try and talk, despite how desperately he wanted to ask Sora if she was alright. He could see she wasn't, and besides, there was no sense doing anything which might endanger them all. Particularly as he wasn't even sure he'd be able to find the words. As it was, the world danced and swam, grey at the edges and dotted now and then with sparks. More than anything, as the march dragged on he realised he just wanted to lie down and sleep.

No one else spoke, either. Not even their guards—which might have been strange, or might not. Past his exhaustion he wasn't really sure. Would it be better if they did, and he could try to learn something? Or was he better off not knowing? Was the silence a good sign, or a hint that something was badly wrong?

He should be able to tell. That he couldn't… Perhaps it was just the distraction of the steady, echoing tramp of feet which echoed up and down the stairs, until he couldn't tell where the sound began or ended. An extra layer of disorientation to go with his dehydration and lack of food.

More than once, someone stumbled. It wasn't just himself, which might have been more concerning if only he were able to focus. Focus! He had to do that much, he was sure of it, but remembering why grew ever more difficult as the stairs went on. The monotony of it, step after step after step…even if he hadn't been light-headed, wracked with hunger pangs, it probably would have been enough to send him into the same trance-like state.

At some point the texture of the light changed, growing steadily brighter. The walls changed from dark stone to something smooth and pale, and the steps grew shallower; broader. Finally, they came to a doorway, halting for a brief, blessed moment while his captors called out for something. Probably more guards. Definitely more guards, in fact, because when the door finally swung open it was to reveal a long, flat corridor which seemed to be lined with them on both sides.

Gabumon moved closer as they set off again, with Sora and Piyomon not far behind. Was it a good idea for them to cluster together? His gut told him he ought to be out in front—a distraction if something went wrong—but bone-weary as he was, he could still tell there wouldn't be much to gain. They were so vastly outnumbered it was almost a joke, and even if they hadn't been stripped of their digivices, he was fairly sure Gabumon was too tired and hungry to muster up an evolution strong enough for what they'd need. No, there was nothing for it but to hope his legs didn't give out before they reached whatever fate their captors had planned.

Perhaps it would even be bad enough to scare them all back home. Was it wrong that he almost hoped so?

By this point they had an audience—the corridor had widened, or there were other entrances. He didn't dare look up long enough to investigate, lest he catch someone's eye, but the murmur of voices in the background kept growing. Gossipping and whispering, although he was too tired to care much about the spectacle they'd apparently become for these people, or to try and listen in on any of their conversations.

Still, as they finally—after a near-eternity of walking—reached yet more imposing doors which barred their way, he couldn't help but overhear one snippet too clearly to tune it out:

"—she won't be happy about this."

"Not a bit. You think—"

Someone nudged him forward, and the gossipers were left to their talk. Yamato almost tripped on the lintel of the great doorway, despite his lowered gaze, and gladly leant on Gabumon for balance. If this was it, he wasn't letting Gabumon out of his sight. In fact, if he could somehow arrange for all four of them to touch—a foot, perhaps, or an elbow—

As if from half a world away, a voice beside him loudly interrupted his train of thought:

"Presenting Ishida Yamato, Chosen Child of Friendship, and Takenouchi Sora, Chosen Child of Love, with…uh…with their companions."

Addled as he already was from exhaustion and hunger, Yamato found it almost impossible to process the sequence of events which followed. It started gradually, just the sound of polite murmurs from people he refused to look at. Judging him and the others, probably, if they hadn't passed judgement already. But under it—or beside it, nearby, and from a different direction—there was a growing commotion. Muffled shouting. Thumps and thuds. Then—

"—don't care! I don't care! Let me—YAMATO! SORA!"

…Was that…was that Mimi?

"How dare you! How—Oh! And poor Gabumon and Piyomon too! Let them go! Let them go this instant!"

His head was pulled in her direction of its own accord, as helplessly as if he were under some kind of Fae influence once more. It was Mimi. She'd burst out of a doorway he hadn't even noticed until that point, trailed by two women who looked equal parts frantic and terrified.

Yamato couldn't manage anything more than an incredulous stare. It was like—like a hallucination. How had she gotten there? What was she doing? If she hadn't called out all their names he might even have thought she hadn't seen them by the way she strode right past, seemingly utterly fearless in the face of all these armed guards, and decked out in some fancy dress as if she'd come straight from a dinner party.

And yet, somehow, Mimi's sheer presence managed to not even be the most incredible part.

As he watched the confrontation unfold, hopelessly confused, he realised that the person she was talking to was…it was him. That—that monster. Cahir! Yamato might have called out a warning, but by the time his scattered senses were halfway mustered to say anything, it was apparent that a warning wasn't actually needed.

They were listening to her. The Fae—the damned Fae, a whole group of them—and they just stood there with solemn expressions, nodding at her every word. Only Cahir seemed somewhat immune to the strange spell Mimi was somehow casting, but that was hardly a surprise. The bastard stood there sneering, but even he hadn't reacted beyond that, seemingly content just to watch.

"Well?" came the sudden and just as unexpected voice of one of the most grandly-dressed Fae, a woman. "Guards, what is the meaning of this? Release our honoured guests immediately, and bring them refreshment!"

Yamato's jaw dropped. He was so stunned he barely even flinched as someone pulled the manacles from his arms, and the other guards rushed to free the others as well.

That was it? Days of mouldering in a dungeon with no idea when or if he'd get out, and all it took was two sentences from Mimi and they were suddenly…what…had that Fae actually called them 'honoured guests' or was it just the delirium? Nothing made sense. None of these people had listened to a single word he'd said, no matter how many times he'd protested his innocence. Ca—he—had stolen all of the knowledge Yamato had, right out of his own head. They already knew who he was, and who the others were, and they'd decided to leave them all to rot anyway.

What made Mimi so special?

Things moved quickly. Too quickly to easily follow, at least beyond the obvious. Gabumon clung to his side as the guards hastily stowed their manacles and backed away, bowing uncertainly. At least that was probably a sign he wasn't going mad, right? They were just as confused about the sudden swerve in expected events as he was.

As the guards fell back, more people appeared, all dressed in the same sort of old-fashioned Western clothing that Mimi was somehow wearing. They rushed over, bowing and apologising frantically, and ushered them towards the door which Mimi had burst out of.

From behind him he heard Piyomon ask: "Sora, what—" before Sora hushed her.

"Just stay close," she whispered to the digimon.

He agreed. They needed to stay close. Stay together. There was something weird going on—come to think of it, could it just be a trick? Cahir knew about Mimi, after all. He'd dredged everything out of Yamato's head, and then done the same to Sora. What were the odds that Mimi had actually shown up out of nowhere to rescue them, just in the nick of time? Had to be something ridiculous, for sure. And that guard, he'd said Cahir's speciality was messing with people's minds.

What if she wasn't real? Or she was just another one of these people, changed to look like Mimi somehow, so he and the others would let down their guard.

It didn't make sense—there wasn't any logical reason for Cahir to do something like that—but it didn't make sense for Mimi to be in the middle of this place either. Could he trust his eyes? Could he trust anything?

It ought to have been a relief to leave that huge echoing hall and the Fae behind. The room they were led to was smaller but no less ornate, with comfortable benches they were offered a seat at by more bowing people in matching outfits. All of them were immaculately tidy, but transparently nervous. They promised food and drink, and 'the best of care', but Yamato couldn't worry about that. They were probably lying anyway, and the surge of adrenaline which had carried him this far was starting to wane. It was like something buzzing in his ears, and a tightness across his head and face.

Had someone turned the lights down? It didn't seem as bright, away from danger. And it was hard to focus. That had to be exhaustion, right? How much longer did he have to hold things together? He couldn't relax, couldn't let down his guard, but his legs felt like jelly. If they hadn't offered him a seat, he was fairly sure his knees would have buckled beneath him.

Not good enough, he thought, desperately willing his body to keep going. Can't let up now.

Mimi appeared—well, whoever it was that looked like Mimi. It couldn't be her, right? Could Cahir have pulled enough from his and Sora's heads to replicate her sheer enthusiasm, the way she ran over and threw her arms around Sora and started crying excitedly about how happy she was, and how relieved, and how dare they mistreat her friends like that, but everything was fine now, and the others had been so worried and—

She paused. "Yamato, what's wrong?" Mimi-but-probably-not asked. "Are you okay?"

"You're shaking," Sora remarked. "Yamato, what—"

He shook his head, wincing as it only made the ringing in his ears worse instead of clearing his thoughts. "I'm not, it's not… How the hell can we trust you?" he snapped, pushing himself to his feet.

The room swam. That was a mistake. Bracing himself against the wall with one arm, he tried to put more space between them, but Mimi—not Mimi, there was no way it was Mimi—just followed. The crushing disappointment on her face looked real, but that was the whole point, wasn't it?

"Get away from me!"

He staggered, gritting his teeth as his vision filled with sparks. But if he was going to pass out, he couldn't do it here. He had to find somewhere safe. Was there anywhere safe in this city? Could he trust anyone?

It was fear, part of him realised, steadily growing stronger, but fear was dangerous. Fear got people hurt. Fear had dragged Sora and Piyomon into this with him. He couldn't let himself be afraid anymore, which meant he had to feel…

"Yamato," Sora said, reaching out for his arm. Her face was twisted with concern. "What's gotten into you?"

"Into me?" he snarled, letting helpless rage take over at last. "You mean you fell for this? It's a joke, that's what. All we went through, and with one wave of a hand everything's fine again? I don't believe it. I don't believe any of it. And"—he pointed at Mimi, although his arm shook so much it might not have been as obvious as he wanted—"I especially don't believe you."

...okay but for real, I am actually very sorry about where this leaves off. Chapter 39 is already well underway though, I promise!

Feel free to yell at me in the reviews, or on Tumblr at tottwritesfanfic