Chapter 2: Keep on Running

Everything hurt.

Her small body throbbed with pain, a sharp stab that intensified with every small movement she made. But she kept her crawl toward the safety of the large trashcan close by. Devimon was gone, she knew that. There was no sign of him around, and if he was affected by the same attack their target had used, then he was dead by now.

She'd tried to contact her master upon waking, but all was silent. The code he'd placed in her that allowed him to give out direct commands and monitor her personally had probably been destroyed when she was losing her life force to that blast. Now she was completely alone, helpless…and weakening. Without that code, without that constant, pressing presence in her mind, Viximon felt strangely lost. She had hated how the device intruded on her privacy almost all the time, but when it was gone, she wished it would return. At least it would make her feel less alone.

For the moment, the Viximon knew she was fairly stable, but bits of data had been bleeding out from her as she moved, and the pain she was suffering warned her of what would happen if she does not find help soon – and that possibility was looking more and more promising. The rest were gone, not that she would count on them to save her. Devimon was a little better than the rest, but he, too, was gone.

Trapped. Trapped and dying.

A beautiful ending to a beautifully-lived life.

Viximon nearly laughed aloud. There was no beautiful ending, even to a really beautiful life, she thought. No matter how it ends, there would always be something bad about it. When one dies, the world can't be happy. Not the entire world. There would be those who mourn even if it was for selfish reasons and the mourner would probably be the one who dies. If the who dies had no regret…well, somebody else will.

They're probably celebrating right now, Viximon thought, unfamiliar bitterness overwhelming the thought and giving it a sharp edge. She didn't have the energy to do anything, however, so she just crawled harder, nearing her goal. The watchdog of the Master, third best of the ranks, defeated by a mere Champion!

Hatred she was unaccustomed to made her eyesight turn red, and the Viximon growled dangerously, the hair on her tail and body standing up straight. She'd known there were Digimons who could force-evolve by strong emotions, and she wondered if maybe, just maybe, these emotions could give her back what she'd lost. So she fed it, thinking about the smirking faces of her master's pets – her underlings.

The hatred was white-hot now, and Viximon started to shake. She didn't even need to try to hate anymore; the feeling came automatically now, finding twisted, ugly but not untruth images in her mind, gaining them from the knowledge and facts she knew from her time under the Master, and the feeling in her kept boiling, boiling…

However, at long last, the Viximon suddenly deflated, closing her eyes and tried to hold in a squeak at the pain that lanced through her entire body. She went limp, relaxing against the cold steel pavement, worn, weak, and lacking the strength to even hate anymore.

And that was saying something.

Viximon shivered as she remembered the feel of the target's hand on her head. It was an odd sensation, one that sent stabs of fear down her spine, one she had not felt since she was a Doumon, recruited by the Master. And it frightened her. It frightened her that she could still be afraid. Fear was a hindrance, nothing more. To think that she was still capable of it…

The attack had been strange, also. Viximon knew that the Digimon they were chasing was an unidentified type, one sired by the Digital World to stop the Master's goal and one assisted by M.A.I.D.E.N. as well. However, she had known nothing of the power he'd held; nothing was given to her regarding his attack strength. He probably didn't fight before this.

Coupled with what he'd told her, the puzzle only gave Viximon a headache. But she had not the time or mean to ponder on that subject. She decided that of all the enemies she'd ever faced, she hated him most of all. He'd spared her life, yes, but he'd also turned her back to her in-training stage, and to think that he could just left her there…

If Viximon could, she would've inflated in anger. However, she was already much too tired for that, and so she struggled to crawl to the trashcan, to the warm heaven behind it and just get some rest. Viximon had to gather her strength first, then she could start figuring out what exactly was wrong with her. She wasn't injured – there wasn't a scratch on her – but she was still losing data albeit at a slow pace.

Right. Survival first. Riddles later.

Voices could be heard from outside now…The D.C. are sweeping the place, probably. She'd somehow woken soon enough to get away from the immediate scene before they reached her, although how she'd regained consciousness so fast after that attack – that pain – was beyond her. Nevertheless, she'd escaped, and now Viximon supposed she was in a deeper part of the back alley system, lost. Briefly, she wondered if she should turn around and head back the way she came and seek help from the humans. But no…If they scanned her data, they would find traces of her master's signature, and then she would be in interrogation.

Or worse, they could forcefully pull the memories from her. Then she would have no choice but to reveal to them what they knew. Although she was no Digimon when it comes to the Master's inner schemes, she was a watchdog, and thus, she knew all and every gap in defense, offense and other things regarding security of the Master's realm.

No, that would not have been an option. Although de-evolved, injured and on the verge of dying, Viximon was reluctant to betray her Master. It was the same way a creation trying to turn on its creator, she supposed, or a son trying to turn on his father. It was not easy. She'd served him long and hard, five or six decades even, and she wasn't going to lose all that work just because she couldn't save her own hide.

One way or another, the Viximon was on her own. Until she could return to her glory as Doumon the Silent Guard, nobody in her Master's service would even look at her twice.

The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she swallowed it and crawled faster. Finally, she reached the haven (albeit smelly) behind the trashcan, and with a sigh, she tucked herself in there, glad for the warmth. The metal wasn't, of course, but it would warm with her body heat later. At least here the winds were less fierce. Spring evenings weren't as warm as summer's.

Viximon closed her eyes. Sleep. Yes, she needs that. Pushing the rest out of her mind, the little Digimon let the waves of exhaustion overtake her, bringing her to a realm where there was only peaceful darkness.

Something suddenly cackled, instantly waking the little in-training from her semi-conscious stage. The first thing that met her blue eyes was a pair of purple legs, then as her eyes traveled upward, she saw a smiley face, partially covered with a red scarf, then a smirking mouth, a pair of sharp green eyes, and finally, ears that looked somewhat like a joker's hat.

"Yo," the Impmon grinned, a small flame held in one of his gloved hands. "Lost, are ya?"

"Did you hear about what happened at the Western Plaza last night?"

"Yeah! Of course I did! Everybody did! It's kinda hard not to."

"I agree. Hey, wanna check it out later today?"

"You crazy? The DigiCops probably got all the exits and roads closed down."

Dad wouldn't be too happy to find somebody sneaking into his crime scene either, a boy who sat away from the bunch of chitchatting students, near the window, thought. He looked up briefly from the paper he'd been reading and gave them a glance, bespectacled dark green eyes zeroing on three of the two: a dark-haired girl who were, against the wishes of the dress-code, wearing skimpy clothes, a boy with puffy brown hair and another boy with slightly darker hair and dressing like a punk.

Inoue Suzuki, Jano Kioshi and Seiji Hara in that order, the boy mentally listed their names. He would have to warn his father about this later. If they wanted trouble in that area…Well, that would be rather unwise to say the least. Knowing the hot-blooded Seiji and Jano who always followed his best friend's example, they would be snooping around the destroyed plaza, no doubt. Inoue was Seiji's cousin, and although she was worried of him, she lacked the will and patience to stop him, so she would most likely go along with the two boys.

Just then, Inoue turned to look directly at him, and the bespectacled boy's eyes widened in mild surprise. "Tanaka-san's dad works with the DigiCops, isn't that right?" she suggested, tossing her dirty blonde hair over one shoulder.

Seiji and Jano followed her gaze, and the former's face brightened. "Oh, yeah! I forgot! Hey, Tanaka, you got any news from your pops?"

In less than a minute, Akihiko Tanaka was swarmed with humans and Digimons alike as they crowded around him, firing off questions faster than he could comprehend. "Okay!" a Biyomon yelled, quickly silencing the crowd, and Akihiko shot the Digimon a thankful look. "Back off! The way you're asking, not even my partner could answer." They all know her partner's quick-talking and word-jamming habit.

"Yeah, so how about we started with this," Seiji said. He looked at Akihiko eagerly. "How many people dead?"

The crowd groaned. "What the heck, dude?" one kid moaned. "Why are you caring about how many people being dead?"

"Ten," Akihiko sighed, removing the glasses he used to read things up close. The tiny newspaper was giving him a headache again, with prints the size of ants. He didn't know what their Language Arts teacher found so absolutely delightful about reading these. "Maybe more. They're sifting through the debris. That's how much so far. There'll be a body count at ten o'clock each night."

"Are many people hurt?" a fearful girl asked.

It took Akihiko three seconds to remember. "Approximately three hundreds," he informed tonelessly. "Luckily, there are enough Digimons around there along with human partners so that they could defend the place somewhat before the Cops arrived." Seeing the look of concern and worry on his classmates' faces, Akihiko added, "Out of about sixteen hundred, most of them are not fatal.

"The damages, however, might take months to repair. Two mall buildings are destroyed, many estimated to be trapped within the debris and we are currently trying to dig them out –"

"Dude, what the heck!" Seiji cut in. Akihiko blinked at him in confusion. Seeing the look, the blue-eyed boy elaborated, "The way you talked, I thought you are one of those emotionless people informing people about the attack on TV or something! Show some emotions! Show some worries!"

Akihiko only blinked at him again. However, he wasn't used to being confused, and so it passed quickly with the green-eyed boy saying, "My apologizes. As you know, my father is a sheriff, and his way of reports is starting to get to me." Essentially, he knew that wasn't true. Akihiko had always spoken this way, listing out facts with little to no emotions, but still…

The bell suddenly rang. "Aw, we have to go," the Biyomon from earlier groaned. She glanced at her partner, a bespectacled (and unlike Akihiko, 24/7) kid near the other end of the room, waved before running off to join the Digimons outside. Those who were partnered up with humans could enter the school ground at break times, but when classes started again, they had to retreat back to the Digital World to do whatever they liked. Their Digivices allowed instant transportation to their partners' sides if there was a crisis.

As the Digimons said good-byes and ran out the hallway (their classes had six Tamers) to go find the portal located in the basement, the teacher stepped in, glaring at her students who quickly scrambled to get back to their seats. When everyone were settled, Mizuki-sensei glared over them one more time before saying in a crisp voice, "Take out your books. Chapter six, page ninety-nine. Yuma!" She pointed her Finger of Command to a kid at the front. "Start reading!"

Putting his glasses back on, Akihiko put his newspaper away and got the book out to start reading, although he wasn't really seeing the words. He thought about what had happened just the night before, how the plaza with more than sixteen hundred people had been brutally bombarded by rogue Digimons. He'd never seen the creatures as inhuman things that were incapable of thinking; his father was, after all, the sheriff of the DigiCops. However, there were still ones who feared the Digimons since they were obviously superior to the humans, their technology far-surpassing theirs. Naturally, the feared what is stranger and better than them, and if those anti-Digimons caught winds of this…

It might become troublesome later. Very troublesome.

Akihiko's mind drifted around the problems that could arise from this massive attack on such a crowded place with so many deaths – and deletions, although the human officials might've cared less. All they would see is that a bunch of dangerous monsters attacking themselves, and thus, it might cause a civil war, with Tamers and their partners caught in the middle, fighting both side, since the human's declaration of war would gladly be accepted by the Digimons if it comes to that. And if that happens…

The bell rang, nearly sending Akihiko flying out of his chair. As it was, he jumped hard enough to knock his knees painfully against his desk, and the boy bit back a sharp exclamation. Instead, he turned it into a vehement curse that would've made his mother slap him. Akihiko glanced around, watching his classmates packing up to leave for home, snatches of their complains floating back to him.

"Aw, I can't believe it! She made us do a five-pages assignment on analyzing the main character of the book! What the hell?"

"I swear, that woman's just trying to make our lives miserable…"

Akihiko's eyes were written to the board in surprise, and true to the complains, sitting there in black marker against white, was their homework. I told Seiji that sewer rat in Mizuki-sensei's drawer was a bad idea, Akihiko thought. But it wasn't like it was not understandable or uncommon. Mizuki-sensei had always been a target for practical pranks of all kind as long as Akihiko had known her, and that was since he was in first grade. He was in the second term of sixth grade now.

There was no arguing it, though. Slightly disgruntled, Akihiko jotted down the notes and stuffed his green notebook, pencil-case and glasses back into his backpack. He then swung it over his shoulder and headed outside, thinking about the dreadful weekend coming up with remorse. Why oh why did he have to have Mizuki-sensei on a Friday?

Habara Academy was one of the largest buildings in the city and the schoolyard quickly filled up with students and Digimons trying to find their partners right after the last bell rang, but Akihiko managed to clear it with record time. He ducked his head, trying to make himself look inconspicuous. There were those who didn't exactly adore him, and Akihiko figured he had enough bad luck for one day already. He certainly didn't want bullies on his tail, too.

Two minutes later, Akihiko was already leaving through the school gates, heading left from there. He hoped his mother wouldn't mind him buying some dango. Akihiko was all but addicted to the little rice balls, especially the kind that were baked with soy sauce. Just thinking about them made his mouth watered –

"Hey, Police Boy!"

Akihiko tensed, a cold prickle rising up his spine. The green-eyed boy quickened his steps, nearly running as he navigated down the crowded street, not glancing back. He already knew who it was; it was merely the question of what it takes to get away from the voice's owner and what he wants with him.

Thankfully, the street was especially crowded that day, making it easy for him to blend in with the crowd. Akihiko wasn't all that attention-attracting after all; a brown, short head in the midst of a busy street couldn't be that easy to pick out. He thanked the gods for making him seem unappealing. In situations like this, he could give a lot less care about what girls look for when they "check him out".

He could still hear the voice - no, voices - calling him, and it was getting closer. Akihiko thought frantically for a shortcut back to his house without using the normal streets. They would be fairly empty this time, and Akihiko couldn't chance that. He could use the subways, he thought, but no; he had no money for that…

What about the back alleys?

Akihiko had no clear knowledge of the alley system, but he did know one route back home. However, it was pretty straightforward, so if his pursuers followed him there, he would be revealing to them a shortcut so that they could cut him off later on.

He was trapped.

The feeling made him feel edgy, but Akihiko didn't stop to clear his head, instead darting his eyes from one side of the street to the next, looking for an escape route.

There was an alleyway right next to a tea shop. For once, Akihiko chanced a glance behind him, and to his relief, didn't spot the owner of the voice. However, the familiar blob of red hair was closing in rather quickly, although Akihiko was sure he didn't see him yet. Now was his chance; he'd rather be lost than be beaten up.

Without a second thought, Akihiko took the empty alley and all but ran to the nearest fork, taking the left turn. He glanced around, finding the street was, after all, strange, but he was in the back alley system. Probably. The walls were made of the same rusty material and the steel-laid streets were dirty, just like he remembered. Aside from that, there was no clue Akihiko could find to tell him where he was. But the alleys were connected, and the boy had hope that he would be able to find his way home if he walked around here long enough. Maybe he could find somebody to point the way out for him, although that was rather unlikely. Gang members might be the only things lurking around here. The mere thought of it made that cold prickle rise once more.

No reason to panic, Akihiko berated himself, taking another left turn before he took a right. It wouldn't help him in this situation. He seemed to have lost the bullies, or so he hoped. Akihiko paused in his blind venture and looked back, waiting for a few seconds before shrugging. Good. I hope they don't wander somewhere and run headfirst into me. The thought made him uncomfortable, but he pushed it aside, continuing his (mindless) wandering.

Twenty minutes passed. Then forty. Then finally an hour. And still Akihiko was lost. Already the boy was starting to regret this as he glanced at the watch strapped around his wrist in disdain. It was probably lucky that his father wouldn't be coming home until past eleven, making his mother have to deal with him alone. Maybe he should buy her something…That would create a perfect excuse for why he was late.

Yes, that would do. Although he'd better find something good. His mother might be a forgiving person, but still, Akihiko didn't want to chance this. If his father found out that he was late to go home without telling them his destination first…

At least I lost the bullies, Akihiko thought, glancing at the sky. It was starting to darken. I'd trade not meeting them for a scolding session any day. He wasn't exactly someone who could stand up for himself. He had little training in self-defense, was anything but athletic and spent ninety-eight percents of his days locked up in his house in front of a computer. It wasn't exactly healthy, but there was nothing Akihiko found exciting outside in the world. It presented too much dangers, dangers he wasn't accustomed to.

That and the pain they might bring. Akihiko wasn't thrilled about getting hurt.

He was about to take another left when said alleyway exploded, sending forth a cloud of smoke and wind that forced Akihiko to cover his face with his arms to protect it. When he opened his eyes again, standing not even a foot from him was a purple, impish Digimon whose name was indeed deprived from its appearance: Impmon.

It was also wearing an impossibly large smirk on its face.

"Well, if ya'd been a lil' more agreeable, this wouldn't have happened?" the thing cooed as it walked forward, completely ignoring the frozen boy standing close to it, its green eyes strained forward. Akihiko followed the Impmon's gaze to see a yellow, fluffy-looking blob with a white-tipped fox tail and weary blue eyes.

Viximon, Akihiko's brain supplied helpfully once it was relatively unfrozen. In-training level, not very dangerous. He looked at the Viximon, seeing how it was barely holding itself upright. And…not looking good. He backed away, contemplating running, but right at that moment the Rookie Digimon turned to him, seeing as if it had just noticed the boy for the first time.

"Oh, goody! What've we here?" the thing exclaimed. "Another fun thing for me to play with!" Impmon turned its attention away from the rather miserable-looking heap from across the street and advanced on Akihiko, who started to back off. Although the thing barely stood past his knee, the boy couldn't throw fireballs, nor did he have the dexterity the Impmon have.

I wonder if stepping on him hard enough would do anything, Akihiko thought grimly. He doubted that, though, and he was just having a bit of a problem thinking about what he should do.

"Summon!" A black hole appeared in front of Akihiko. Oh, shit. "Flame!"

Akihiko threw himself to the side, barely avoiding the five fireballs that slammed down where he'd previously stood. He fell hard on his right side, but quickly struggled to get up and seeing the Digimon close enough, blindly reached out with his leg and kicked the imp, slamming his foot into its face hard enough to send it skittering away.

A lovely topic for the school newspaper, Akihiko thought even as he shot to his feet, feeling around for something he remembered being given to every kid and adults out there as a precaution ever since Digimons have come to live in their world freely. "Sheriff's son beating up defenseless Digimons". Wouldn't they just love it? Aha! Triumphantly, the boy pulled out what looked like the Digivices Tamers have, except this one was brand new and colorless. A mimic of the original, holding not even a tenth in term of power compared the real thing, but it was useful for a reason.

The boy's hand flew into his pocket, feeling for the card he always left there, away from his usual D-deck in case of emergency. "Card slash: Paralyze!" Akihiko slid the card through its slot, making the screen glow. He pointed it at the recovering Impmon, screen face-up. "Execute!"

With a hiss, a yellow, crackling beam emanated from the glowing screen and hit the Digimon dead on. Impmon looked shocked for a moment before collapsing. He didn't stand up again. Akihiko, however, remained where he was for a few seconds, breathing hard from the exertion and excitement he'd just come through. His left shoulder stung and his right ankle ached. He just hoped it wasn't too serious.

After those few seconds, Akihiko tried to move his ankle, but had to stop when pain shot up his leg. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the tears. Probably twisted. Great. How was he supposed to explain to his mom that he twisted an ankle, got burned marks, bruises and so dirty as the result? She absolutely wouldn't buy that now. How was he supposed to get home, anyway?

He suddenly became aware of something looking at him. Akihiko glanced toward his right, seeing the Viximon that had been attacked earlier staring at him, seeming greatly puzzled like it couldn't possibly understand why he'd saved it. Noticing him looking back, the Viximon seemed to contemplate something before it turned around and started scuttling away. Or at least tried to, anyway. The Digimon made it past a trash can five feet away from its original spot before collapsing and lying still.

"Hey!" Akihiko called, trying to get to his feet once again, ignoring the pain as best as he could (he only groaned instead of outright screaming) and hobbled after the thing. Eventually, the boy fell to his knees next to the yellow in-training, his eyes looking over the prone form. Scratches, scorches, dirt…There was not an inch of clean fur. Furthermore…

Akihiko's eyes widened at the fading tail. Bits of data were leaving it, making the white part of the limb almost transparent. However, it was doing so very slowly, slower than the other cases he'd seen. It was like the Viximon was suffering from a slow poisoning that was making it lose data. But that was impossible…or not. Maybe it wasn't; with the level of technology right now, there was no telling what might and might not be possible.

He didn't have his D-Cards, having left them at home since all he needed was the Paralyze card. Akihiko had no partner Digimon anyway and wasn't planning on having one anytime soon. D-Cards are his sister's obsession, not his. And even if he did, Akihiko doubted he would be able to do anything. What the Digimon needed now is a check-in with a technician and him with a doctor. His mother was a Digimon Technician…They could both get help at his house.

Which only brought him back to the present problem: Akihiko was definitely lost, the Viximon was fading, he could not walk and they were alone.

And he thought the bullies were bad…