He was still screaming as he woke up. By the time he took in his surroundings, his mother was there by his side. Her hands clasped his shoulders, and she sat on the bed before him, fixing his gaze with hers.

"You're home Takeru," she said, her voice shaking. "You're safe now. It's over."

For a few moments neither of them spoke. Patamon lay on his lap, breathing slowly. His eyes stubbornly refused to focus on anything. Nausea washed over him, rising as fast as the ground, and he lurched, wrenching himself away from his mother. Somehow he forced his treacherous legs to get him as far as the bathroom before the retching started. It had been so long since he'd eaten that he didn't think he could bring anything up. He was wrong.

It was only as he staggered to the living room, some minutes later, that he realised Daisuke was still in his apartment. The other boy helped support him while he walked. It was strange seeing him so quiet and solemn. Takeru sat down on the sofa, and took Patamon from his mother's arms. His partner was sleeping - he wondered if the digimon had even stayed awake for their fall.

Everything was disjointed. It was as though the real world had stopped making sense. It hadn't been this strange coming home after months in the Digital world; why was it so jarring now?

"Did… did you want to talk about it?" his mother asked, putting a glass of water in front of him. He shook his head. If he started talking, he had a feeling he would end up in tears. That or hysterical laughter. It was strange. At that moment, the worst part wasn't even what had just happened. It was the knowledge of what awaited him when he fell asleep. Would he go back to the meadow, by the beach? Or would he return to the thin air somewhere above that engine shed, ready to finish off his rapid descent? No, he couldn't talk about what had happened. Not until it was actually over.

He was saved from answering by the beeping of his D-Terminal.

:Takeru, where are you? Over the mainland now but can't see you:

Part of him wanted to throw the Terminal across the room. He settled for thumping the sofa instead, as Daisuke peered over his shoulder and read the message too.

"Hey, don't worry about it," his friend said, squeezing his uninjured shoulder reassuringly and standing up. "I'll get Taichi up to speed. You just sort yourself out man. You look like you saw a ghost or something."

Takeru just sat and hugged Patamon, not meeting his mother's eyes. Whether by coincidence or an unusual bout of perceptiveness, Daisuke wandered out of sight to send his messages; leaving them in peace.

"I can't tell you, mum," Takeru said at last. His throat felt hoarse. "Not yet. I… I'll find a way, someday. But right now I can't. Not that part of it."

"I called Jou," Daisuke said, walking back over. "You look even more beat up than you did before, and he's on alert anyway. Miyako says Koushiro's the same. She's finally got Mr and Mrs Yagami convinced that it's not his fault at least."

Takeru looked up sharply. "Wait, what?" Daisuke's news was enough to bring him out of the shocked bubble he had been sinking into. "They're blaming him? Why? What's been happening here?"

The movement was enough to disturb Patamon, who groaned a little, then opened his eyes and shrieked "Takeru!" before looking around in surprise. Spotting Takeru, he looked up and said: "We didn't fall?"

Takeru swallowed heavily. "We did. But we didn't land." He kept his eyes on his partner, noting the guilt in his expression. "It wasn't your fault Patamon. Neither of us expected that… thing to come out of nowhere."

"You fell? Fell how? Like off a cliff?" Daisuke actually flinched as he looked up at him. "I mean, Koushiro, yeah. Miyako sent the messages out, about how he's all shadowy and stuff, but he's not disappearing like you lot. He's just asleep. And Mr and Mrs Yagami are still pretty freaked about the whole thing, so when Taichi vanished again, and Koushiro started looking like he was gonna vanish too, they got kinda worse. Because Koushiro had been telling them how he was working on an answer, and now if he goes too, I guess they figure there's no one left to bring Hikari back. But I reckon Ken's plenty smart enough to work out Koushiro's notes, and Miyako can do computer stuff too, so between them they oughta be able to work with Gennai too, right? And I'm pretty sure Koushiro's coming back. I mean, you guys all came back plenty of times. Besides. Taichi is still over there looking for her, so it's not she's in any real danger. Or Yamato."

If there was one good thing about Daisuke, it was his ability to press on relentlessly. Not in spite of a situation seeming almost hopelessly insurmountable - he just never seemed to notice when it was, and assumed that everyone would work things out. It was a different kind of courage to Taichi's; more unconscious. More infectious, too.

By the time Jou arrived, a little before 1pm, he had managed to relax a little. He even ate, although that was mostly to appease the expression of concern his mother bore.

Jou shook his head as he looked him over, and re-dressed the wounds on his arms.

"You're lucky," he said. "They look sore, and some of them have burst, but so far there's no sign of infection. You probably won't walk away from this without one or two scars though.

Takeru sighed. "At least I could pass them off as a bad case of chicken pox?"

Jou smiled grimly. "Maybe the burns. But this wound on your shoulder - what happened?"

Takeru winced as Jou cleaned the cut out. He looked at Patamon, who hovered nearby looking worried.

"It was dark, Pata," he said. "You couldn't have known." Turning to Jou he added quietly: "We got shot at. The first shot clipped me there, just out of the blue. It was some kind of giant black bird, with someone - something on its back. I don't want my mum to know. There's no sense worrying her."

Jou nodded, checking to make sure that Mrs Takaishi was still out of earshot.

"I understand," he said, and sighed. "It's the sort of information which no doubt Koushiro would find very useful," he said softly. "We'll have to hope he and Sora wake up soon."

Takeru flinched. "Wait. Sora? Do you mean regular asleep or…"

"Your father called the Yagami residence not too far after midday," Jou said. "Miyako took the call. Sora apparently fell asleep a few hours ago, and then at midday, well. She and Yamato had told him that Koushiro was working on answers, and he had no one else to call."

Jou swallowed heavily. "I didn't really need Miyako to spell it out for me. She said she was calling Mimi next."

"Why didn't you say something before?" Takeru muttered, trying to keep his face neutral as his mother peered into the living area. She watched as Jou finished cleaning the cut on his shoulder and secured a dressing, then smiled weakly and walked away.

"Well, my first priority when I arrived was to make sure you weren't seriously injured. Daisuke was pretty insistent that I get here quickly. He said you were in a bad way." Finished at last, Jou stood up and sighed. "That's all I can do for now. I've done a more thorough job than I might normally, but given the situation I feel it's better that way."

"Are you okay?" Takeru asked. Jou had grown up a lot since their first trip to the Digital World, but he was still the most generally nervous of all the Chosen Children. The main difference was how much better he'd gotten at hiding it.

Jou grinned. "I thought I was supposed to be asking you that," he said. When Takeru didn't change his expression, he sighed. "I will admit, seeing how you and Yamato came out of this is pretty unnerving. And with Yamato and Hikari now missing… I can't say I'm looking forward to going to sleep."

Takeru nodded. "Well, you do at least have an advantage over us," he said, and gestured to his injuries. "Some of this happened because I had no idea of the dangers. I mean, if I'd known there were hostile creatures around I wouldn't have stayed up in the air with Pegasusmon making targets of ourselves. At least you can be prepared."

"I certainly hope so," Jou replied. "Still. You'd best be prepared as well. I may not be able to patch you up straight away next time. It would probably be a good idea to pack-"

They were interrupted by a bleep from Jou's phone. Before he could answer it, Takeru's D-Terminal started beeping as well. Exchanging a quick glance, they reached into their pockets and grabbed their respective devices. Just as Takeru flipped his Terminal open, Daisuke burst in, almost falling over in his haste.

"Guys, I think we'd better go. Like now. Miyako says Mrs Yagami is freaking out again and she needs help real quick. Also she wants someone to go get all the other Digimon pretty much yesterday."

Sunday, 12:32pm

It was dark. Night, which made no sense as it hadn't even been mid-morning when he had finally conceded to his exhaustion and slept.

And how had he gotten outside? Something strange was going on, because he was standing in the middle of a dark, rocky place which felt - wait, was he dreaming? It was certainly possible. After all, he had been thoroughly engrossed with the deadly new world affecting four of his friends. For a solid thirty-six hours minimum, too, on nothing more than catnaps. It would make sense for it to affect his subconscious and manifest in this way once he finally did sleep.

He had heard of lucid dreaming, of course, although he remained on the sceptical side of the debate. Still, here he was, aware of the fact that he must be dreaming, which was a core principle of the phenomenon. Either he had been wrong, or…

Uneasiness settled over him like a thick blanket; heavy and stifling. Was it possible that he was being drawn into the alternate world as well?

The sky above him was awash with stars. Unlike in the real world, or even the Digital one, they were not points of light. Instead, each star seemed to bleed into the darkness surrounding it. It was like looking through a thin fog, which caught and refracted the light before allowing it through. The entire sky was a pale glow, studded with brighter points which were the stars. They were bright, too. Bright enough to illuminate the world around him, despite the lack of any moon.

The ground was a tumble of rocks and boulders. It looked like a photograph of the moon or Mars; desolate and barren, with no sign of life anywhere. Deep pools of shadow lurked beneath the largest boulders, and there didn't seem to be any totally level ground anywhere. If he decided to explore, he was likely to turn an ankle unless he was careful. As light as it was, it would still be tricky to find his footing on this uneven and unstable ground.

He forced himself to try and think, although it was hard to focus. It was easier - all too easy - to simply stare around him, drinking his surroundings in and thinking no further. That, however, was folly. He already knew that there were only two possible explanations for his situation. If he were dreaming, which seemed the more comforting but less likely option, then he was experiencing a phenomenon he had hitherto dismissed and should attempt to find its limits. If he were not dreaming - if the alternate world was affecting him as it had four of the other Chosen Children - then he was potentially in serious trouble, and would need to keep his wits about him.

The longer he stood there, the more he became convinced of the latter. There was too much detail to this world for it to be a product of his subconscious. Not to mention, although the sky matched perfectly what Yamato and Takeru had described, none of the four had spoken of a rocky wasteland with few distinguishing features. If this were a product of his own mind, it would more closely resemble the information he already had.

Of course, now that he realised where he was, he had something of a dilemma. The only way to return was to experience intense terror. That wasn't a particularly comforting thought, and naturally, there was also the problem of creating such an emotion. Thus far, there seemed to be no obvious dangers, and he would be foolish to attempt to generate them intentionally. There was too much risk of failure.

What now? The prospect of remaining where he was and waiting for something to find him was not a comfortable one, but neither was the alternative. Round and round the dilemma cycled in his mind. He was getting nowhere.

A clattering of stone on stone made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He whirled to face the direction the sound had come from. Was something moving over there? It was hard to see - whatever it was could be hiding behind one of the larger boulders. Taking care to make as little noise as possible, he walked over to the nearest sizable rock. He would feel safer with something behind him.

Koushiro had never been athletic. Had never been physically strong. Even Takeru, two years younger, had been taller than him for some time now. He'd always relied on his wits to see him through dangerous situations - that and his partner, whose ability to turn into a giant flying beetle that could shoot bolts of electricity tended to make up for his own physical inadequacies. Now, it seemed that everything he relied on had been stripped away. No Tentomon. No friends. No trusty laptop to call Gennai, and not even the faintest idea of where he was.

Another clattering - this time louder - came from a different direction. Koushiro could feel the thump-thump of his heart, getting steadily faster as his anxiety grew. Okay. So he wasn't alone in the dark. The bad news was that he had no reason to suppose that whatever was out there would be friendly. The worse news was that either there was more than one, or the creature could move about very quickly.

For once, he wished he were the sort of person to fly instantly into a panic. That would have gotten him out of the situation he found himself in. Unfortunately, he was Koushiro Izumi, rational thinker, and his brain was the ultimate traitor - attempting to remain calm in a situation which could well rely on panic and fear. The more he tried to accept that he was afraid, the more that logical voice in his head reasoned that being tooconscious of his fear would undermine it, leaving him stuck.

Stones clattered a third time, on the other side of the rock he crouched beside. That was good, surely. He couldn't be seen if there was a rock between him and the creature. His confidence evaporated with the gout of flame which roared overhead, almost blinding him with its intensity. Blinking spots from his vision, he turned and placed his back to the stone. He had to be absolutely silent.

This time, he could hear the creature itself as it moved. The click of claws on rock, and the whumph of the air as wings bunched and pushed something very large into the sky. It wheeled overhead, a huge black silhouette against the sky. Koushiro's jaw dropped.

Amid the rising terror, he couldn't help but feel a prickle of anger at the unfairness of it all. Takeru might have had burning rain, but he'd been able to find shelter. Yamato and Hikari had been put into danger by exploring. Even Taichi had mentioned walking for some time before facing the creatures in that wood. Meanwhile he, Koushiro, had been dropped in the middle of a barren wasteland with nowhere to hide. And right there, landing in front of him with eyes that glinted in the starlight, was a dragon. A dragon, of all things.

The mouth opened, revealing teeth as long as his arm. Light bloomed in the back of the creature's throat. As the flame blossomed, and Koushiro flung himself helplessly to the ground, even his terror couldn't quite stop him railing against the injustice. He didn't remember hitting the ground. Blackness took him before he could even scream.