Blue to Gray

by Besprizornye

When Digimon begin appearing in and around Minneapolis, a group of teenagers are thrown together by their encounters with these strange creatures. Digimon and Tamer alike must learn to understand each other and discover why they have been brought together before it is too late to stop the shadowy forces at work around them.

2. Episode 1-02

Episode 1.02: Help I'm Alive, Part Two

On a network of nearly-transparent grids, a chase was underway. A pudgy creature coated in blue and white feathers was waddling as quickly as he could manage in an attempt to escape from his pursuer, a smaller blue-black-colored monster with two bat wings flapping furiously to propel him forward. "Come on, bird brain!" the airborne tormentor shouted with a sadistic cackle. "Quit trembling and fight me!" To punctuate his point, the small creature summoned a floating syringe that would have seemed almost cartoonish if not for the incredibly sharp needle that was aimed at the fleeing bird. With a cry of "Demi Dart!", the vampiric-looking monster seized the weapon with one of his gray feet so that his red nails clicked against the glass, and heaved it at his feathered victim.

With a frightened squawk, the pursued creature threw himself onto the surface of the square that he was on, causing the projectile to barely soar over his round body. Opening his eyes, the blue creature saw a terrifying vision below it. Far, far underneath him and his attacker was a city fighting off the night's embrace with electric lights, and aided in that struggle by periodic flashes of lightning. The round-bodied bird looked up and saw above him, past a second network of see-through squares, an arctic landscape of ice and snow. It would have looked perfect, save for the unsettling fact that the whole landscape was upside-down. The frightened creature clutched his head in his claw-tipped wings and shut his red-irised eyes tight. "Make it stop," he whimpered.

"I can make that wish come true, fatty," the other creature said gleefully, but before he could launch another attack, a hole opened up in the grid beneath the two and began to draw the two confused creatures through a force that was so powerful that the rest of the grid's surface was warping to be slanted towards this opening. The heftier of the two of them fell into the rip in the night sky with a long, drawn-out honk, and, although his tormentor flapped his thin wings frantically, he too was drawn into the portal with a flurry of curses. Once they were through, the world between worlds was silent once again.

In his bed, Joshua was awoken at three in the morning by a frantic beeping coming from his nightstand. Mumbling his way to waking, the teenager fumbled around the small wooden piece of furniture, knocking scraps of black plastic out of the way as he struggled for a firm grip on his phone. He looked at the screen of the noisy device, but what he was looking at did not make any sense to his sleepy brain. He pulled on the pair of glasses also located on the nightstand, but the image did not change. It was a radar of sorts with a compass in the center and two green dots flashing in what looked to be the map's northwest quadrant. This was no phone application that Joshua was familiar with, and his phone felt different in his hands. He got up and turned on the light to his room.

Any grogginess was wiped away in the explosion of brightness which illuminated Joshua's bedroom. In his hand was his phone, only it had changed since he had last seen it. It certainly looked like a phone, one firmly enclosed in a white case with blue accents, but the screen was no longer damaged, but whole. The case was not only different from the one that his phone had been in when he went to bed, but actually seemed to be welded to his phone. When Joshua pushed the central button, he saw that his altered phone possessed several new applications that had not been there before, including a radar. The phone's alarms had stopped, but the radar application was still insistently blinking.

Wide awake now, Joshua opened up the radar again and studied the screen. The two green dots were still blinking and, if the radar's scale was to be believed, whatever those dots were supposed to represent was not too far away from Joshua's house. He was curious. One on hand, it was three in the morning. On the other hand, there was no need for him to get up early on a Saturday. That practical consideration helped him make up his mind, and Joshua got dressed in a simple outfit of jeans and a light rain jacket over a black band t-shirt. After sneaking out of his silent house, Joshua pulled his bike out of the garage and took off into the storm to investigate.

In a home in Edina, just outside of the limits of the biggest city in the state, a phone rang. While his wife rolled over and put her pillow over her uncovered ear, a man picked up his cellphone and answered the call with a well-practiced swipe of his long finger. "Situation?" he asked, filling every syllable of the word with the tone of command. He had known who was on the other end of the line before he had even opened his eyes. At this time of night there was only one possible answer to that question.

"Two Unknowns have begun to breach in Minneapolis, sir," the male voice on the other end answered.

The man quickly stood up and walked away from his bed and his wife. Holding his phone to his ear, he walked past his daughters' rooms and down the stairs to the kitchen in order to make a cup of coffee. "I'm coming into the office," he said into his phone, a little louder now that he was well out of earshot of his family. "Send a drone to observe the situation as it develops."

"With all due respect, sir, one of our fliers would be apt to get fried in this weather. Replacing it might attract more attention than we normally like from Washington."

Looking out the window, the middle-aged man saw the streaks of lightning which were still arcing across the sky, long after the weathermen had predicted that the storm would let up. He interpreted their persistence as a sign that pointed to this incident being the real deal. Too many times before had he been the victim of false alarms and missed opportunities, with only a few fleeting successes to try and balance the ledger. "Fine," he said coolly, turning his attention back to the conversation at hand, "but I'll be there in twenty, no traffic at this hour, and when I get there I want a full report with every detail on this possible lead. If this is a sure thing, I want our people to have everything they need to handle this."

"Yes sir," came the reply, and then, the man on the other line said, "You really think that this is the real deal, huh, Ken?"

"Yes, Eddy, I really do. Which means we all have a lot of work to do." With that, Ken ended the call.

A small smile threatened to break across his face as he went back upstairs to get dressed. Despite his attempts to hedge his bets with words like "possible" and "if", Ken hadn't been able to keep the excitement out of his voice. Of course, Eddy could pick up on that, the two men had been working together on this project for a long time. Thinking about how hard he had worked on this prompted the possible smile to make another attempt to bypass Ken's defenses. When he went to pour the first cup of coffee of what looked to be a night full of them, the smile finally won out, and Ken let himself indulge in this little bit of emotionality.

After all, Ken told himself, soon all of his efforts would pay off.

In ideal weather, Joshua's journey to the location indicated on his phone's radar would have been a short one, but he was mindful of the slick roads and the lightning that split the sky in great violent forks, and that, combined with his stopping to check his bearings on the radar, lengthened it considerably. Led by the glow of the streetlights, the boy steadily pedaled his bike closer and closer to his destination. Finally, atop the peak of a small hill, Joshua saw something that made him hesitate. Below him was a construction site that, despite the proclamations on the fence surrounding the largely-abandoned project, would not resemble a new shopping center anytime soon.

That wasn't what made Joshua pause, however. He had halted at the top of the hill due to thick fog which hung around the construction site with its heavy yellow equipment. Joshua briefly considered turning back, going home, going to bed, and forgetting all about this strange night. But, then again, Joshua had already come this far and was already awake and soaking wet from the weather, so he hopped off of his bike and wheeled it down to the fence line, leaving a long thin line in the mud as he did so. After leaning his bicycle against the barrier, Joshua started to climb the chain link fence, taking a deep breath at the top before plunging into the fog.

Once he was submerged in the mist, Joshua found his visibility less obstructed than he had expected. On this side of the fence line, the fog still hung heavily in the air, but it seemed far less oppressive. After wiping the rainwater off of his glasses, Joshua found himself staring at the strangest sight of his life. He pinched his forearm, but the short quick burst of pain informed him that he was not dreaming. He really was seeing two monsters fighting.

Well, perhaps fighting was the wrong word for it. What Joshua saw was a small flying bat-like creature harassing a round blue-feather bird who was waddling around, his large red eyes wide with fear. "Oh my God," said Joshua breathlessly, "they're Digimon."

Both of the creatures in question stopped their conflict and turned to the source of the sound. The airborne one's eyes narrowed and its lips curled in a sneer. His victim, on the other hand, ran as fast as his clumsy yellow feet could carry him and ducked behind Joshua, clutching at the leg of the teenager's wet jeans. "You have to help me!" the avian pleaded. "He's going to kill me!"

Before Joshua could say a word, the bat-like Digimon snarled, "You're going to have a human do your fighting for you? Pathetic!" Then the angry creature spread his wings wide and gave a cry of "Bat Flutter!", causing dozens of tiny bats to begin streaming forth from a spot in the air in front of their summoner. The wave of small shrieking furry bodies made a beeline for Joshua and the Digimon behind him before making dive-bombing attacks on the duo. The small furry creatures nipped and bit whatever they could get reach. They quickly bounced back from any of Joshua's panicked efforts to swat them away.

After letting out a curse through gritted teeth when one of the bats nicked his arm again, Joshua cried out, "Run!" and took off for the skeletal structure of the future mall behind them, his tennis shoes raising great squelching sound as they tread through the muddy ground. The bird-like Digimon followed Joshua as best he could despite the pair still being beset by the bats.

Fortunately, those bats seemed to be capable of going only so far from their master. The Digimon flapping his wings chose for the moment to stay in the center of the construction site, so Joshua and the stumpy blue creature trailing after him were able to duck around some of the corrugated pillars of metal and found a hiding spot behind a row of mint green portable toilets. Once he thought they were safe, Joshua came to a stop, his form hunched over as he fought to catch his breath. "Are you okay?" he asked the Digimon in-between a couple of undignified gasps.

"Well, I'm alive," the strange creature wheezed, "which is more than I hoped for!"

"That's good. So, what's our plan?"

"I thought that running away and hiding was our plan," the Digimon stammered.

Joshua turned around to respond. "We've got to take the fight to that flying jerk."

"Fight? Oh, no, no, no. I don't fight."

"Why not?"

"Digimon who fight end up dead," the monster stuttered. "I like living very much."

"A Digimon that doesn't fight," Joshua marveled. "What kind of Digimon is that?"

"Well, I'm Penguinmon."

"I'm Joshua, Joshua Kleberg," the teenager said in turn, holding out his hand for a handshake. Instead of taking him up on the offer, the feathered creature recoiled from Joshua in fear. Joshua sighed and pulled his hand back, saying, "Never mind," before looking down at the phone still in his hand. "Maybe I can call someone." He fumbled with the still strange device, but froze when he accidentally pointed it at Penguinmon and the screen came to life. A picture of the Digimon before him was on Joshua's screen along with all kinds of information on Penguinmon and what he could do. Joshua stared at the machine in his hand through rain-flecked glasses, amazed less by the information on his screen than by the fact that it was there at all. "I think I have a Digivice," he whispered reverently.

"A what?" asked Penguinmon.

Before the first words of his lengthy explanation could leave Joshua's mouth, his eyes widened. Flapping his leathery wings frantically and bearing a sadistic grin on his face, the other Digimon from earlier had rounded the end of the row of portable toilets and was now speeding toward Joshua and Penguin. "Found you!" he cackled, and then he plucked a sizable syringe from thin air with one of his claws. A cry of "Demi Dart!" heralded his launching the missile at Penguinmon.

When Joshua raised his face at the Digimon's sudden reappearance, his phone had come up with him and promptly identified the assailant as DemiDevimon. His brain idly registered that he would have figured that out sooner if it hadn't been three in the morning even as his body sprang into action. Joshua dived at Penguinmon and pushed the startled Digimon over with enough force that the two of them slid across the muddy ground, as the dart flew harmlessly overhead before sinking into the muck behind them. Joshua hurriedly got off of the Penguinmon and wiped the grime off of his face before helping the Digimon to his feet. "You all right?" he asked.

While the Joshua's jeans had been hopelessly marred by the mud, his jacket and shirt had been shielded by Penguinmon's plump body. Still, even though he was covered with muck, Penguinmon looked up at Joshua, his red eyes blinking through a muddy mask, and gave the best approximation of a smile that his beak could manage. "Yes, I am all right!"

"Good," said Joshua quickly. He turned his attention to DemiDevimon that had attacked them as he told Penguinmon, "You get away. I'll try to hold him off."

"You're going to hold me off?" DemiDevimon mocked with a high-pitched laugh. "You're just a stinking human! Weak, stupid, ugly-"

While the snickering monster had been mocking him, Joshua took a few steps forward and, in the middle of DemiDevimon's string of insults, reached back and punched the blue-black Digimon right between his yellow eyes. The blow sent the basketball-sized DemiDevimon spiraling through the air, while he swore and flapped his leather wings hard to try and regain his bearings.

After he recovered, the DemiDevimon shouted, "You don't even know what you're getting yourself into! What kind of idiotic human are you?"

"The kind of human that's giving one last chance to take the easy way out," Joshua responded shakily. He balled his fists and tried to find plant his feet as firmly as he could on the soft ground.

DemiDevimon must have sensed Joshua's fear because his mouth widened into a smile that showed off his yellowed fangs. "Real Digimon always choose the hard way," he snarled, "it separates the strong from the weak!" The sinister-looking Digimon then spread his wings and rasped, "Evil Whisper!" A black fog spewed from DemiDevimon's mouth and surrounded Joshua's face in a dark mist. The teenager's legs weakened and Joshua sunk to his knees in the cloying mud, his hands clutching at his temples as his vision, already blighted with the falling rain and the fog, was now further impaired by the cloud of artificial darkness that had fallen upon him. To make matters worse, Joshua's nose was overwhelmed with a stench of rot, and his ears were filled with the sound of violent, hate-fueled chanting.

Through this overloading of his senses, Joshua could only partially make out his attacker as the DemiDevimon produced another dart, and said, "Guess you aren't anything special after all."

Before DemiDevimon could carry out his final assault, Penguinmon stepped in front of Joshua and stuttered, "Leave him alone."

DemiDevimon sneered at this interference, but he was ultimately undeterred and reared his body back to launch his weapon at Joshua. But before the blue-black Digimon could follow through with his attack, Penguinmon spread his stubby wings and shouted, "Ice Prism!" A soft blue glow emanated from his yellow beak and coalesced into a simple three-dimensional shape. Then, a short burst of energy knocked Penguinmon back into Joshua's huddled form as the small frozen projectile rocketed toward DemiDevimon. It tore through one of his leather wings, which caused the smaller Digimon to lose his grip on the syringe in his claw and sent him into a tailspin. DemiDevimon landed in the mud with a sickening squelch. His uncontrolled dart spun in the air and then descended, its needle facing down, to sink into the downed Digimon's face, right between his hateful eyes.

After striking its owner, the needle exploded in a cloud of white fragments, but the damage had already been done. DemiDevimon's body was dissolving into a flurry of shimmering flecks, starting from his mangled wing and from the top of his head where the fumbled syringe had pierced him. His breathing came in raspy gasps and DemiDevimon's yellow eyes looked at Penguinmon and Joshua with loathing, the latter having been freed from the effect of the dying creature's last attack by his defeat. "Losing to you two," he coughed, "is some kind of sick joke. This wasn't part of the plan. Not part of the plan at all." With those last words, DemiDevimon body finished dissolving into a cloud of white fragments. The remnants of the cruel little Digimon hung in the air for a bit, then floated up into the air, following the lifting of the strange white fog suffusing the construction site.

"Wow," said Joshua, "I think you just saved my life."

"Guess that makes us even then!" Penguinmon squawked.

Joshua looked up at the dark sky overhead. It was still populated by heavy clouds, but the lightning and the rain had stopped leaving the night strangely still. Joshua wiped his abused glasses clean as best he could with his shirt and put them back on. Even in the feeble light given off by the streetlights outside the construction site, he could see how filthy he looked, covered as he was with mud, and with his shirt and body cut by the attacks by the bats summoned during the fight. He looked at Penguinmon and found him also caked with wet earth and looking completely unsure of his next move. "Hey," Joshua said to Penguinmon, "do you have anywhere to go?"

"Um, no. I suppose I do not," answered Penguinmon slowly.

"Come back to my house with me then," the teen said. "It'll be a bit of a hike, but we can get you cleaned up and get a roof over your head. Come on."

The boy and the Digimon headed to the fences and after Joshua awkwardly helped Penguinmon over the barrier and, after retrieving his bicycle, walked toward the road, leaving tracks in the mud.

Over an hour later, a long black car on that same road bore a very angry Ken. He slammed the dashboard of the imported car with the flat of his hand and swore for what felt like the hundredth time during the drive. Ken had gone into the department's office, but although the reports that he had been handed as soon as he walked through the door had all been quality work, the biggest mistake as he saw it had already been made. Over the phone he had been told that the breach was taking place in Minneapolis. The detail that had been left out was that it was occurring on the edge of the city, just over the border from Edina. If he had been told this, if he had had the data sent directly to his phone instead of going all the way to the Department's headquarters in the city's downtown, Ken might have been able to observe the two Unknowns himself.

Instead, he had only found out after driving into the city, and the time spent getting there and back had been valuable time lost. Now the Unknowns had likely dispersed into the surrounding area leaving only a failed opportunity. Ken got out of his car and slammed its door shut. He looked out at the fenced-in construction site where the Department's computers had dutifully narrowed down as the most likely location where the Unknowns' emergences had occurred and glared at it before mastering his anger.

There was no noise at this late hour and Ken was about to give up when he noticed an indentation in the mud off of the side of the road. Curious, he took out his phone and turned on its flashlight. It was not just one depression in the mud, but a whole score of them, making up two sets of tracks. The first consisted of a single line left by a bicycle and shoeprints heading toward the chain-link fence at the bottom of the hill. The second set of tracks consisted of the same markings coming back up the slope to the asphalt, but now they had been joined by imprints left by some sort of clawed feet.

Ken followed the tracks down to the edge of the construction site and back to the road, ignoring the growing filth on his polished black wingtip shoes. The trail he was following stopped dead as it reached the paved surface of the street. There was no way to follow it any further, but Ken's mind was racing nonetheless. This was an incredible development. Someone else had gotten here first and had encountered one or both of the Unknowns, taking one with them when they left. As he got back into his car, questions swirled around Ken's mind, all devoted to analyzing his observations and trying to think of another entity which would have had the tools to detect an emergence and the ability to force an Unknown to accompany him or her.

Ken drove back to his home digesting this latest development. Others were taking an interest in these monsters, and that was dangerous. His men needed to step up their work to analyze and contain not only Unknowns, but also to find out more about this other interested party. Still, despite the challenges ahead, Ken's bad mood from earlier had all but evaporated. There was too much work to be done for him to be anything but excited.