Ebidramon had devolved all the way back to a wounded Pipimon, moments after waking the children and bringing them to shore.
Shore, in this case, meant permafrost. Ice floes drifted past them through the water, while some Gomamon jumped on and off, playing in the cold. Oikawa placed his partner into his pocket to warm him up; he was the only one of the four remotely dressed for this weather, and only because he was too eager to turn on his gaming console to bother taking his coat off before he got summoned. Hiroki wasn't holding up too bad in his school uniform, but Maki and Daigo were wearing short-sleeved t-shirts and shorts and quite understandably shivering.
Had they been carried all the way to one of the digital world's poles? It didn't seem likely, Terminal Port wasn't even chilly, but... how big was the digital world?
"Nothing to do but start exploring," Hiroki said, and he began walking inland, in a random direction. The others followed, Daigo too shaken (whether from shivers or the recent defeat) to insist on going in front. "It's all we can do."
The locals were white digimon with thick fur, and they blended into the snow so well that Daigo actually bumped into a Yukidarumon and had to apologize; the Mojyamon and Garurumon were hardly more noticeable. But despite the party standing out like a prismatic beacon, none of the digimon they met in the snow treated them with the slightest hostility.
The term 'sanctuary' came to mind, and not just because of the shining structure in the distance, the one made from a giant ice sculpture. This was no place they could live, but the digimon who did live here were unaffected by the horrors of viruses that had so troubled the rest of their world. They walked slowly in its direction, leaving footprints in the permafrost far deeper than even the snowiest day in a Tokyo winter. Until they reached a massive sculpture of a building, made entirely of ice, with an angel awaiting them by the door.
"Welcome to the Ice Sanctuary, Chosen Children. I see that your Pipimon has been badly wounded." Angemon took the small, green digimon from Oikawa, a halfway deflated tomato with blood (or was it juice?) covering his side. He placed him on the altar, then waved his mighty stuff over the baby's tiny body. "Mega Heal!"
A many-colored light rejuvenated Pipimon, who sprang back to life, bouncing around the room; what had been heavy wounds troubled it no longer.
"Who chose us?" Daigo asked. "What does it even mean to be a Chosen Child?" There was something about the angel with the warm smile and the eyes hidden by a helmet that made him think this digimon could answer all his questions, even the ones he hadn't been thinking of back when they were talking to Jijimon. "And how do we get strong enough to protect this world?"
"I… can only guess at the answers to your questions," Angemon said. "I'm sorry."
"Where are we?" Maki asked. "Why is this place so warm and safe?" The word 'warm' sounded wrong as it came out, when she was standing on ice – did she mean emotionally? She only belatedly noticed that she'd stopped shivering once she stepped indoors.
"This place operates on a similar principle to Penmon's igloos, but on a far grander scale. The heat from the server beneath File Island is trapped indoors, warming the interior of the building."
None of the group had met Penmon, and only Oikawa really understood the scientific principle behind Earth's igloos, which do not involve any servers. But all of them were at least aware of the concept of building igloos in Earth's arctic, and it was enough to satisfy their curiosity.
"As for safety… Freezeland is too cold and wet for the firewall to reach, whether or not it has been corrupted. But I must warn you, children. Be careful! The temptations of power, the isolation of this land, the changes in this world… even here, some angels have fallen! I thought Pidmon a kindred spirit, but either he found a virus after all, or the cold and the temptation of power drove him mad."
Unlike a certain other popular game franchise, Digimon games have always considered water and ice the same element – and water, as in every concept of type match-ups, puts out fire. So it made sense. And yet the children did not feel a shred of wariness around this particular Angemon, nor did they detect the remotest foreboding undertone; he was truly an angel, and his words put them utterly at ease.
What he could not do was tell them where to go, or even how to evolve. They asked after Gennai, but received no answer, and the security on the shrine's computer (or was it on the disc itself?) did not allow his last disc to be read.
But he did give them a parting gift. Warm winter clothes, made of white feathers and down, with red trim "so you can find each other in a snowdrift."
"Thank you for your kindness," Daigo responded, hurriedly putting it on; when one is no longer freezing, after all, it is fun to play in the snow.
That a digimon could survive in Freezeland with a light blue color was not surprising; he stood out a little more than most locals, but the gaps in the sea and the white-blue sky left him with a lot more camouflage than any of the children's digimon could claim.
It was more the body that puzzled them. A rail-thin humanoid with torn and battered wings. Were it not for the icicles built into his foot, they would have mistaken him for a lost traveler.
Alas, this interaction would not be nearly so pleasant. "Four lonely explorers, perished in the snow. It's not much of an answer to our Four Evil Kings – I think they're calling themselves the Dark Masters now – but at least you tried. Frost Claw!"
Bearmon leaped forward to take the claw, then evolved up to Leomon – this lion could at least claim to be IceDevimon's equal in a shoving match. Unfortunately, evolution had cost him his precious coat of warm fur; Leomon was built for the tropics, and IceDevimon's claw sent all the cold of Freezeland directly into his stomach, chilling him to the bone.
"Why are you doing this to us? Why are you invading this peaceful land?" Maki pleaded, and Bakumon evolved to Monochromon; a Volcano Strike scorched IceDevimon's wings, but they already looked too broken to fly.
"You're the invader! You're not even a digimon!" IceDevimon retorted, although the attack had taken its toll; he tried to strike back with an Icy Shower, using his wings to launch a cold counterpart to a dinosaur-killing meteor. Yet the digital world's dinosaurs were not extinct, and Monochromon's armor endured. However, she was still a fire digimon, and she was feeling very, very cold.
"Gotsumon," an increasingly concerned Hiroki said, "can you handle this? It's not exactly a small target."
The rock statue nodded. "I'll do what I can. Gotsumon, shinka! Golemon!" There was no gun barrel here – a rock monster became a larger rock monster this time, with a yellow color, a hardened shell, and giant, blocky limbs.
"You can do that?" Hiroki was not the only one surprised – all of the children had believed their digimon would take the same evolution route every time, for they had never witnessed anything else.
IceDevimon, meanwhile, was laughing, even celebrating. "I can't believe this! The virus got your partner, too! Even here – maybe it's because Monochromon warmed up the snow! What was everyone so worried about?!"
Yet if he was hoping for a berserk digimon who would turn on the chosen children, who would destroy and destroy, he was sure to be disappointed. "Leave these children, Pidmon. Do not harm them. They should be under your protection."
"Pidmon?!" If Golemon had called him a pathetic imitation of Satan, IceDevimon would not have been more insulted. It spitefully reached around the giant rock digimon to slash directly at his partner Hiroki, but found it repelled by the old, familiar feathers on his jacket. The arm recoiled and slashed back at IceDevimon's own face.
"Golem Punch!" and the enormous fist of his newly evolved opponent followed up with a knockout blow.
The battle with IceDevimon – or to be more precise, Monochromon's attack – had done more than simply warm up the snow; in one crater, the fireball had outright melted it. The ground beneath was not dirt or rock, however, but plastic or glass or some other semi-transparent material, arranged in an upward sloping half-circle.
"Is it a projector?" Oikawa asked, and the children raced over to investigate, slowly clearing away decades of accumulated snow in search of an 'on' button.
"Unfortunately, we haven't been able to get it to work yet. There's too much interference with the firewall gone."
The voice came from another human, one who had approached without their notice; he was dressed in a white robe no more visible than the feather-coats Angemon had given them, but he was taller than even Hiroki.
"Gennai!"
There was no denying that the man who appeared before them was the same one in those photos they had viewed in Terminal Port, although perhaps it was strange to shout the name of someone they had never met like he was an old friend.
"Chosen Children… we meet at last," Gennai said.
The children all spoke their questions – they'd been searching for a long time, searching for a reason. But despite some overlap in their concepts, their words were not identical, and it is never easy to listen to four people at once.
"Calm down, children," Gennai responded, "one at a time."
"We found these disks that Hangyomon missed in your home," Oikawa said, "but we weren't able to read the last one. Was there anything on it that we needed to know?"
"That last disk is a homing disk," Gennai answered with a laugh. "I headed to the Ice Sanctuary the moment I saw that you'd loaded it up, but you've covered quite the distance through this snow."
"How do we defeat Mugendramon?" Hiroki asked.
"Your digimon must become stronger. Mugendramon is an Ultimate digimon – Adults don't stand a chance." As an answer, it wasn't all that useful – a strategy guide or a manual could have told them that, and probably did at some point, back when they only knew digimon as a video game.
"What are we meant to do in this world?" Daigo asked.
"Repair the Firewall and defeat Apocalymon and the Dark Masters." The words were simple, but knowing the quest, at long last, was not the same thing as being able to complete it.
"Wait, so Mugendramon's not the last boss?" Maki noticed. The very thought troubled her, troubled all of them.
"He has companions, allies. Piemon, Pinocchimon, Metal Seadramon – all of them his equals in power. And behind them all, Apocalymon is the source."
"Why did I evolve to Golemon instead of Revolmon?" Gotsumon asked.
"Will I evolve the same way next time around?" Pipimon added, as a follow-up question. The question was on Bakumon and Bearmon's mind as well.
"Digimon can evolve in many different ways. You became Golemon because it suited your purpose here."
"How do we evolve our digimon to the next level?" This time, everyone was asking at once, although the phrase 'our digimon' wasn't said by the digimon themselves.
Gennai looked over the group, from left to right, for he had only now noticed that something was wrong. "First, you must all join together."
"Do you mean fusion?" Oikawa suggested.
Gennai paused for a while, thinking about it, before ultimately answering. "Not quite. In principle, digimon can be made to evolve that way, but you have far too many enemies to reduce your numbers through combination. What I meant is that one of the Chosen Children is not with you… and his partner is a wish-granter; he is the key to evolution."
Hiroki thought back to his first encounter with Daigo and Maki, riding on the Birdramon they'd befriended, spotting the two from the sky. Were there other kids out there? And if so, how long had they had to survive on their own? For that matter, did they survive?
"If any Chosen Children or their digimon had been killed, I would know, and we would all be in great peril."
"So how do we find this fifth child?" Daigo asked.
"Not the fifth. The first," Gennai corrected. "Lui and Ukkomon long predate your presence in this world."
"Are they okay?" Hiroki was concerned. For all his strength – even with multiple evolutions – Gotsumon alone hadn't been able to defeat all the dangerous digimon they'd met in this world. One child, one digimon, especially if they were younger and had been here much longer… maybe they were in grave danger. Maybe they were too late.
"Both of them are still alive." Gennai assured the group. "Birdramon has been searching from the air, and they were last sighted entering the Misty Trees."
Maki was puzzled by Gennai's answer, but for a very different reason. "Wait, there's a fifth child? But the prophecy, four gods…"
"It is a prophecy. I myself am not certain about its meaning."
"One last question. You keep calling us Chosen Children. What does that mean? Were you the one that chose us?" Daigo asked, the same question that he had asked Angemon; it had clearly been on his mind.
Gennai cast a pointed, unmistakable glance at Maki, but the girl herself was puzzled, and no white light emerged at this time. "It was not me. The one who chose you… will make everything known when the time is right."
Had Gennai told them everything they needed, or had he just dodged all their questions and pointed them to the next leg of their quest? It was hard to answer that, one way or the other; the younger two kids were more impressed, the older two more skeptical.
Gennai hadn't told them how old Lui was at this point, and both groups hoped for someone their own age – the elementary schoolers more strongly, as Hiroki and Oikawa didn't always get along with their classmates. It wasn't cliquishness, per say, but there was a definite difference in closeness between the two pairs. They all wondered what a fifth would mean to their group dynamic as they left the cold behind them and made their way into the Misty Trees.
Digital World philosophers have often compared their whole world to a labyrinth, likening its confusing geography to the many circuits of a single giant computer chip. If so, the Misty Trees was the most confusing stretch of said labyrinth – and it was not just Jureimon, a native of the region, who voiced this opinion.
"It's dream mist," Bakumon said confidently.
"Huh?" Maki asked.
"The fog is dream mist. The same stuff that comes out of my back legs."
"What do we do about it?" Daigo asked.
"Let me navigate. And… I know it won't be easy, but try to stay awake. I don't know how well that I can protect everyone from nightmares."
The digital world always had a dreamlike quality to it – indeed, it was often held to be this world's fundamental input, which was processed on a massive computer. But digimon also dream, and so do human children, even so far from home.
They dreamed of family, of friends, of being loved, of returning to Earth a hero. Every night on their journeys, in different beds, different conditions – a cave one night, a building the next, a hastily set up tent when the next town (if one could call the places where digimon live towns) was too far away.
But not like this. They hadn't prepared to go to sleep at all, just collapsed where they stood. And they tossed and turned, and their tears soaked the leaves of the forest floor.
Maki had lived much of her life as the only one awake. Her sleep problems had cursed her with many an unintended nap, but they had not often allowed her the luxury of a good night's sleep. In the digital world, she was more energetic than she'd ever been on Earth; Bakumon's kindness meant a lot to her.
Consequently, she was wide awake, moving slowly forward, when she finally noticed that this was not also true of her companions.
"Thanks for keeping me up, Bakumon."
"But it's all I can do," her partner said sadly. "I wasn't able to hold out against the other ones. And if we can't defeat the one responsible, I fear that their nightmares will never end."
In the distance, between two trees, Maki sighted a floating white digimon, with large green eyes, a purple jewel on its stomach, and a build that roughly, vaguely resembled a spinning top. The phrase "Liar Dream" escaped his mouth, like and yet unlike speech.
Was this creature the cause of these nightmares? Or was it trying to fight them?
"Careful! Don't look into Ukkomon's eyes!"
Maki walked closer, but slowly, carefully, skulking through the trees and trying to avoid eye contact. She felt like a ninja on a mission, and really wished she had the skills of one. Maybe Bakumon, who was floating beside her, needed a new evolution. Monochromon was not exactly equipped for secrecy. But then again, its footsteps would wake everyone up…
"Is it our enemy?" she asked Bakumon.
"I don't know yet," her partner admitted. "Ancient digimon are strange, I don't know a lot about them, and it's not the only one out there with sleep techniques. Let's just watch for now and see what it's doing. It's child level, so if it's alone we should be able to win this fight."
Ukkomon, however, was not alone. A human was with it. A little boy – very little, couldn't have been more than four years old; it was amazing he was still alive in the digital world after all this time. "I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Himekawa Maki. Are you… are you the first Chosen Child?"
"Nice to meet you," Lui said, surprised to see another human. "We've been on this quest for a while, but I thought there were only digimon here. What's a Chosen Child?"
"I told you I'd bring you friends! Others with digimon, like us!" Ukkomon explained. "They finally got here!"
"They? Are there others, or do you just mean her and Bakumon?" Lui asked.
"Three more. But they've fallen asleep in this forest, and I don't know how to wake them up. I think they're suffering." Maki said.
"Leave it to me." If this were Earth, a tentacle and a slight pull would be more than enough to make them as good as new. But this was the digital world, so it was not only Ukkomon's wishes that had power – although, it must be admitted, the wishes of a wish-granting digimon do tend to override the most heartfelt intentions of others.
"Liar Dream!" Ukkomon's green eye was a powerful force, and this time, it was on their side, using its gaze to ease their suffering and try to wake them up.
"Nightmare Syndrome!" Maki was puzzled to hear Bakumon's attack name… from a voice that was very much not Bakumon's. An egg with green reptilian feet, a black void which countered Ukkomon's attack and kept them trapped in the forest's spell.
"Why are you doing this, Digitamamon?" Bakumon protested in a heartbroken voice. The two digimon clearly knew each other, although Maki couldn't begin to say how. "You're not a virus… were you infected?"
"Bakumon?" Digitamamon was just as surprised, but far less hostile; he sounded like he was meeting an old friend, and his attack retreated, distracted, back into the egg. "I've been working for Jureimon lately, protecting this forest from intruders. The peace of the Misty Trees must be preserved!"
"By giving everyone nightmares? Look at them, they're suffering!" Bakumon pleaded.
"I know," Digitamamon said, sadly. "I'm not good at that stuff, it's Nightmare Syndrome, not Sleep Syndrome, there's only so much I can do."
"But I haven't been having bad dreams!" Maki protested. "I've never slept so well in my life!"
"You were always better at that part than me," Digitamamon said, facing Bakumon, "and I must admit, Pillowmon's way better at removing trespassers humanely. If you want to keep them asleep instead while we move them to the exits, I won't interfere."
"Can we do that?" Bakumon asked Ukkomon.
"Two eyes for two companions!" The ancient digimon turned to Lui, who gave him the thumbs up.
"I'll take Daigo with my own Nightmare Syndrome, if I don't have to keep Maki awake. We managed to find you, so there's no problem with leaving the forest." Bakumon said.
"Let's do it! Liar Dream!" This time, Digitamamon, true to his word, did not interfere, and the three digimon and two humans walked out together, chatting like old friends.
"It's not just this forest in crisis lately, the whole digital world…" Bakumon said.
"The Village of Beginnings is not what it used to be. Digimon don't treat me like a model of evolution anymore, just something to kick around and break. But Jureimon and Piemon were kind enough to take me in, and if I can protect just this one corner of the digital world… at least it's a purpose, a way to do something with this life of mine," Digitamamon said.
"You know," Bakumon said, "your cooking is delicious. If they ever treat you wrong, you can always try opening a restaurant."
Their bodies were asleep in the Misty Trees, but their minds were suffering elsewhere.
Oikawa Yukio, as far as he could tell, had returned from the Digital World without Pipimon, without Hiroki – even his SNES digimon game had disappeared, and with it, all records of his adventure. He was trapped in this boring world, with no one to even talk to who had the slightest recollection of the digital one, and whenever he said anything he only sounded insane.
Hida Hiroki did not know which era he had ventured into – it was a mashup of the Sengoku era, the Meiji era, and the modern day. Rulers as tyrannical as Nobunaga, samurai who got away with crossroad killings, judges and politicians who only cared about taking bribe money. Crime was rampant, and the line between crime and official power was more like a revolving door. He tried to resist such a world, tried to stand up for what was right, tried to protect the weak. And that was why he was in a prison cell now, awaiting his execution.
Nishijima Daigo was still in the digital world. But Bearmon couldn't evolve for some reason, and another monster was pursuing them. Hiroki and Oikawa weren't with them, this time around. Maki was captured by yet another digimon. And he could do nothing. It was her own words which stuck with him the most, as the Devidramon carried her away – "You're so weak and useless. I never should've listened to you. If we just turned back like I suggested, this guy wouldn't be able to eat me."
All three were badly, horribly shaken. But it was all just dreams, dreams which came to an end. For Ukkomon and Bakumon broke the spell, and they finally woke up, back at the forest's edge.
"So he's not our age," Hiroki said.
"We've got to look after this toddler?" Oikawa tactlessly added. "I'm not cut out to be a babysitter."
Ukkomon was sorely tempted to simply take out a tentacle and brainwash the older kids into being nicer to his partner; if they were still on Earth, he would've done it right then and there.
But before he had to, Maki stood up for him. "Lui is young. Very young. But he was able to survive in the Misty Trees, even though they knocked all of you out. And I think his digimon partner is the strongest of all of them."
"I'm a good kid. I won't be a burden," Lui added. The phrasing was odd – what four year old was worried about that kind of thing? But even Hiroki didn't pry, didn't suspect anything; they were happy enough to take his words at face value.
Perhaps, looking back, Lui would someday cite this as the reason they didn't ever really become friends. But no one wanted to talk about life outside the digital world; Daigo missed it, and for the others there was little happiness to return to. The life Ukkomon had begun to build for him on Earth – his father's recovery, his mother's personality shift – might legitimately have been more fun than anything the older kids were going through.
Still, like any little boy, perhaps like any human at all, he had wanted to go on an adventure.