The mid-afternoon lull hung heavy in the air. Birds sung, muffled by a dense mist that rolled through the streets, and a chilly wind whipped left and right. Very few people were out and about, save for the occasional dog walker. The hunters from last night had disappeared just as quickly as they’d mobilised, leaving nothing but their own trail of justice in their wake.

Lonnie let out a breath as she edged along the street, keeping suspiciously close to one wall as she beckoned behind her.

“We’re here! Quickly!”

There was a stumbling and a flopping, and a bedsheet shuffled up behind her, with only the end of Dendromon’s snout poking out the end. She looked desperately up at Lonnie.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“It’s alright. This is my house. I just need to sneak you inside and no-one will have seen you.”

She took a step forwards as Dendromon grabbed her by the arm. “Wait, wait wait! Don’t you live with people? What if they see me come in?”

Lonnie raised a hand. Then lowered it, and clenched her fist over her mouth. Ducking low, she ran to the corner of the fence and squinted, peering through one window.

“That...could be a problem. Mum’s in the kitchen.”

“How have I not been seen yet?”

Lonnie clicked, and quickly dragged the salamander round the other side of the house. She held herself up against the wall for a moment, keeping an ear out. Then she shuffled sideways, and pointed up at the window above her. Dendromon looked blank.

“The downstairs loo.”

“I...uh...what?”

“I used to sneak through the window all the time when I was a kid.”

“...why?” Dendromon shook her head, looking behind her. “Besides, I can’t get up that high!”

Lonnie’s face split into another trademarked grin. “You can with a little help.”

“Hey! Put me down!”

Despite the salamander’s protests, Lonnie hoisted her partner up and posted her, head first, through the open slot. There was a scrabbling, a startled yip, and then a muffled splash. Lonnie blinked, and whispered up. “You alright in there?”

“...I’m stuck in a big white bowl thing...”

Lonnie stifled a laugh, before her eyes widened as she heard the front door opening, and the sound of angry footsteps walking down the path.

“Lonnie, I swear to GOD-”

“ACK!”

The girl looked all around her, and for a brief moment consulted her conscience. She had, after all, been missing all night and all morning, with no means of contacting or being contacted by anybody, and now she was about to be caught red-handed posting salamanders into her own house.

Of course, the right thing to do in this situation is to be completely open and honest and

“Move, Dendromon! I’m coming in too!”

“WHAT?”

Before her pursuer could make it round the back of the house, Lonnie hoisted herself up with all of her strength and dove through the window after the salamander, just as she’d done all the time all those years ago.

There was a judder, a scraping sound, and a dull thunk. Lonnie winced, and looked behind her, realising slightly too late that she was no longer as...small...as she had been all those years ago, as her chest and legs remained stubbornly on opposite sides of the open window. She pushed herself backwards, but it only caused things to bundle up in awkward and undignified ways, and did little to actually help.

“Oh dear...”

The girl looked down, and gave an apologetic smirk at her partner. Dendromon failed to see the funny side, with her own rear end completely wedged inside the open toilet bowl.

Lonnie shuffled around again, fully aware of people hovering around just behind her, out of her field of vision. She cleared her throat, and smiled down at Dendromon.

“So what do you think? This is my house.”

“Bugger off.”

“Hey, look on the bright side. At least nobody’s seen you.”

The door opened. Both girl and salamander glanced forwards, as Lonnie’s eight-year old sister Anna stood in the doorway, blinking at the scene. Dendromon nodded in greeting, and pointed upwards at her partner.

“Hi there. This is all her fault.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Both Lonnie and Dendromon pressed their eyes shut as Anna ran screaming from the room, knocking over things as she went. There was an increased shuffling, the sound of muffled yelling, and then Lonnie heard her mother’s thundering voice sound from behind her.

“LONNIE DEIRDRE MCMILLAN!”

Followed by her other sister Sian’s dazed-sounding voice:

“I can see your tummy, Lonnilee.”

Dendromon sighed. “You know...the thought occurs to me that this was a really stupid idea.”

Lonnie placed a hand on her cheek. “I get that a lot.”

“You locked yourself in the bathroom?”

Lonnie groaned in response, as Grace held the bridge of her nose.

“...and you plungered your Digimon out the toilet?”

“She was stuck, alright? And at the time I didn’t really trust my mum with the forceps.”

Grace let out a long, pained breath. “I told you it was a bad idea to go home directly.”

“Well I realise that now!” Lonnie slammed her face down on the table, her pigtails drooping either side. “Now I’ve lost my essays, my innocence and my internet privileges, and all I have to show for it is this goddamn newt.”

“I take it Dendromon’s at home?”

Lonnie shuddered. “It’s where I left her. I don’t know what I’m gonna find when I get back there. My sisters are savage, I tell you.”

Grace stifled a laugh, as Lonnie glared up at her.

“S’not nice to make fun of people!” The girl shuffled forwards. “How did you manage it then? You must have snuck Vulpimon home at one point.”

Grace shrugged. “I didn’t have a choice at the time. It was just after the three month disappearance and the giant glitter worm; trying to be all secretive around my parents wasn’t really on my mind.” The girl put a finger on her cheek in consideration. “Mind you...we can just about pass her off as a normal dog, at a distance. Ember and Skye don’t seem to notice the difference.”

She chuckled with whimsy, before getting slightly narked at the fact that Lonnie wasn’t really paying attention, instead looking off to one side. The redhead’s voice descended to a scarily low volume as she leaned forwards.

“I think we’re famous.”

Grace looked to one side, and grimaced as she saw Brennan Coleman off on another one of his wild ravings at the next table over.

“I was looking at the footage this morning; they definitely got another one. It might even be the same one running around the square. You know, the one that knocked people into the pond. I swear it’s the same one. Hopefully it got what was coming to it.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure.”

The young man to whom Brennan was speaking seemed remarkably unenthused about the whole affair, but Grace was slightly more anxious. She noticed Lonnie’s fist clenching on the table beside her, and leaned forwards, her voice taking on a harsh tone.

“Leave it.”

Oblivious to the world, Brennan carried on.

“They’re just going about it the wrong way. The best way to take these arseholes out is with a flamethrower.”

“Sure thing.”

“I’m serious, Mark. Just a can of spray and a lighter and they’re going down like-“

BANG

Before Grace could even think to stop her, Lonnie had shot up out of her chair and marched over to Brennan’s table, slamming her palm down on the wood and smiling directly in his face.

“Well now, Brennan, that’s some interesting stuff you’re talking about.”

The boy’s eyes lit up. “You really think so? I had a feeling you were into flamethrowers-“

Lonnie raised a palm, “Oh, no, please, I’m just more interested in how convinced you are that you get to make a decision about somebody else’s right to life.”

She narrowed her eyes, as Brennan quailed just a little. Then he sniffed in his traditionally nasal way, and folded his arms. “Damn monsters. They shouldn’t be coming here in the first place. Whatever they are they should all just die already.”

“You...take...that...back!”

Lonnie tensed, her fingers clawing on the table surface, when all of a sudden Mark suddenly stood up opposite them, closing his book one-handed.

“That’s enough.”

Lonnie held her position, while Brennan flailed his arms wildly. “She started on me! Don’t you see what’s being hidden? We weren’t done yet-“

“Frankly, I was done for a while. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Mark edged around, standing head and shoulders over the other young man as he looked down at him. “That alright with you?”

Brennan ground his teeth, and shuffled away, muttering under his breath. Lonnie felt her body relax, and turned towards Mark. He was taller than her, and incredibly stocky with square shoulders and thick arms that were almost always covered with a patterned sweatshirt. He wore smart shoes and chinos, and had straight black hair that he wore in a short ponytail. His face was angular, with light brown skin, a sharp nose and square jawline, and his eyes bore forwards with a falcon-like intensity, as if he was trying to suss out the weak points of everyone and everything he came across.

Lonnie placed her hand behind her head, smiling coyly. “Thanks for that.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“It was nice of you to-“

“No, really, don’t mention it. I don’t get involved in trash talk.”

Lonnie blinked, as the boy shrugged his rucksack over his back, before pausing, and turning back to her.

“You will be in sociology, right?”

“I...uh...I’m here now?”

“Can you do me a favour? I’ve got to go home for a family situation, so can you pick up any notes, please?”

He looked over her shoulder. “You or Grace, I don’t mind. Whoever remembers.”

Grace wandered up beside Lonnie, a friendly smile on her face. “Sure thing, Mark.”

“Much obliged.”

He walked off without another word, with Lonnie staring after him. “He’s a nice guy, isn’t he...?”

She turned to Grace, who was giving her a very worn look. Lonnie blinked. “What did I say?”

The smaller girl grabbed her by the sleeve and ever so gently and surreptitiously dragged her into one of the empty classrooms, closing the door behind her. When she turned back, her expression was a lot less friendly than it had been two seconds prior.

“What the heck was that about?”

“Me?”

“You do English lit, don’t you? Next time you’re in class will youplease find yourself a dictionary and look up the word ‘subtlety’?”

Lonnie held a palm out at nothing. “Didn’t you hear what Brennan was talking about?”

“Lonnie, I hear it every damn day. Brennan’s a prat. It comes with the territory. But you can’t just go off on everyone who says something crappy like that.”

Lonnie folded her arms. “You bloody well should.”

“It’s not just about us, though. We have important friends we need to protect.” Grace sat down on the lip of a table, biting her lip. “Brennan may be joking. But not everyone is. Anyone we go after during the day could very well come after us after dark.”

Lonnie sighed, scratching the back of her neck.

“Aaaaeeee....yeah, you’re right. I know you’re right; you usually are. I just don’t think I can hold back the way you can.”

Grace shrugged. “It’s a useful skill. I know it’s tough, but sometimes you’ve got to roll with the punches and lay low.”

“I have a distinct feeling this ‘hiding the fact I’m a Digimon tamer’ thing is gonna be harder than it looks.”

“Well, look at it this way; would you ever have guessed that I went out every night fighting giant beasts and leather-clad jackasses with my pet snow doggo had you not seen me a couple of nights ago?”

Lonnie tilted her head. “I...guess not?”

“There you go then.” Grace leaned forwards and booped the other girl on the nose with one finger. “That’s one useful skill to learn. Think of it as homework. You know, to replace the lot you threw in the river.”

She stuck her tongue out playfully, and backed out the door, leaving Lonnie rubbing her nose, pouting.

“Yes, mum.”

Mark trudged forwards down the pavement, his focus barely straying from the ground a few steps ahead of him. It was his usual state of being. Leave early, leave quickly, and leave everybody else to sort out their own issues.

He turned the corner and walked up the small road towards his house. As the path curved round, he could see an unfamiliar car parked just opposite from his front door.

For a moment he stopped, and took a moment to breathe. Then he slowly trudged up the front steps, and walked in through the front door.

“I’m back.”

He crouched down and started undoing his shoes, getting halfway through, before a large, armoured brown bug scuttled in from the other room and shuffled up to him, trilling excitedly.

“Where were you? We were waiting for you? I mean, the car came early, so we were worried you wouldn’t make it.”

“Hey Trilomon.”

Mark finished taking his shoes off, and held out a hand, scratching behind the insect’s head plate. Trilomon chirped, his armoured body rippling back and forth, and despite the rush Mark could feel himself smiling just a little.

“I wouldn’t miss this, you know me. I’m always on time.”

Another person walked into the hallway, and stood in the doorway to the living room, holding one hand awkwardly on the doorframe. “I’m glad. Sorry you’re missing your studies.”

Mark glanced up, and his smile faded.

“This is important, Kent. We’re family. You come first.”

The tall young man scratched his cheek, rustling the impressive beard he was sporting. “I appreciate it.”

Mark took his other shoe off, and walked forwards as Kent beckoned him into the living room, where the boys’ father and two unfamiliar people were sitting, talking over cups of tea. Mark placed a hand on his hip. “Are you packed already?” he asked.

“Everything’s in. I’m just a short plane trip away from a new job.”

“You look the part.”

Kent pulled a face. “Hardly. But I don’t do suits. Too stuffy.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. You look fine the way you are.”

Kent tugged sheepishly at the collar of his long jacket, and shuffled, his smart shoes tapping against the carpet. He pulled his hand back, grasping the strap of his shoulder bag; the last item of luggage he needed with him.

He still looked rather uncomfortable with the situation, even as Mark cleared his throat.

“I do mean it, you know. You’re going to be just what they need.”

“I know, right!” Trilomon trotted up beside Mark and sat down, his emerald eyes gleaming. “You’ve done so well. Software and communications consultant for the biggest digital life research company in the world.“

Mark gave a half-smile, rolling his fingers. “Yeah. In Colorado though...”

Kent sighed, his shoulders sagging a little. He walked into the kitchen, finishing off a half-cold mug of tea and leaning on the countertop. “This is already hard for me. But there are digital anomalies going on all around the world, and...well...I know things. I can help.”

“Don’t let me stop you.” Mark smirked. “You’ve always been a smart guy. If any one of us was going to save the world, it was going to be you.” He looked down by his feet. “Though I will miss you, Trilomon.”

“Aw, please.”

The insect coiled up a little and seemed to go all coy, before staring at the ground. “I am...a little nervous. This is the only place I’ve ever known here. Plus aeroplanes still scare me.”

“You’ll be fine. They’ll love you over there.”

Mark stood tall again, his expression hanging on a noncommittal half-smile. Kent placed his cup down, and took a couple of steps forwards.

“You’re thinking about something again, aren’t you, Mark.”

Mark held his head down, not making his brothers’ gaze.

“I just...well...Taylor should have been here, you know?”

Kent looked down as well.

“He couldn’t make it.”

“I know.”

Mark looked forwards at his brother, his eyes still facing downwards, even though he was only slightly shorter than Kent. The two stood there, not saying anything, as Trilomon sat below them, looking between them with a strange, almost faraway look in his eyes.

“Kent?”

The two brothers looked at the door, where their father Joshua and the two chaperons were standing. One of them raised a watch. “If we want to make the flight in good time, we should really be making a move.”

“Of course.”

Kent turned, and looked his brother in the eyes, smiling gently. “I guess the future calls.”

“...you’re such a geek...”

Mark held his arms open, and the two brothers held one another, their arms stiff and awkward and holding themselves apart. Mark let out a breath. “I wish you the best.”

“You too. I know you’re going to do great things.”

Kent swallowed, and held his arms a little tighter, but felt no response from his brother. After a few more seconds, he pulled away, and headed into the living room. There he hugged his father, while Mark crouched down again and gave Trilomon one last stroke.

“Look after him, alright?”

Trilomon beamed. “Always have, and always will. You can count on it.”

For a moment Mark didn’t move, not wanting to let go. But he did so, and stood back as Kent picked up the last of his bags, and walked with the drivers to the front door. He stopped in the doorway, and smiled back, a glint in his eye.

“I’ll make sure to call. And I’ll be back before you know it.”

Mark nodded, but said nothing. Behind him, the boys’ father reached out, holding a palm on the wall. “Please be safe.”

It was only a minute or so, but it felt like time was stretched out into hours. Mark watched from just in front of his father as Kent put the last of his bags in the estate car, then walked round to the back. He looked once more at the house he’d grown up in, as his hair flicked back and forth in the wind. Trilomon was already inside, the tinted windows masking his presence.

Kent gave one last wave, before getting inside. A few seconds later, the engine hummed into life, and the car began to move. Mark and his father stepped out onto the porch, watching as the car approached the end of the road, signalled, and finally turned left and completely out of sight.

“More beef?”

Mark looked down at his plate, fingering the mess of rice and sauce with his cutlery.

“I’m good, thanks.”

His father let a breath out, and helped himself to a little more beef and black bean before placing it back in the centre of the table with the other dishes. He placed an elbow on the table, looking quite distracted himself.

“It’s certainly quiet around here now...”

Mark looked to one side. “You know Kent does all the talking. I...I don’t know.”

He poked at his meal again, before glancing up, and noticing his father staring at him with a weary expression.

“Did...I say something I shouldn’t have?”

Joshua shook his head, and took a sip of water. “It’s nothing. I’m just wondering where all the time went. You’re almost a man. Who am I kidding; you are a man. You left me behind a long time ago. So did Kent. And...Taylor.”

Mark smirked. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Time flies, whether you want it to or not.”

Mark swallowed, and gently pushed his plate across the table.

“Thanks for this, but...it’s been a long day. I can’t eat any more.”

A flash of concern showed on Joshua’s face. “You’ve barely had anything-“

“Save some for me for tomorrow. Please. I just need a bit of...time.”

Joshua said nothing. However he pushed his own unfinished plate forwards, clearly not entirely in the mood for Chinese himself. Mark took their plates and the remaining food, distributing it in the kitchen into pots for the fridge, and remaining silent all the way.

All of a sudden he heard his father’s voice from the other room.

“I am proud of you, you know. It hasn’t been easy, what you boys have gone through.”

“...you’re right.”

“I wish I could have done more to help you...help you all...”

“You did everything you could.”

Mark wandered back into the dining room, watching as his father shook his head, a pained smile on his face. No words were needed.

Mark’s head fell, and he reached for the door.

“Hey, Mark?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Mark nodded. “You too.”

The air fell still. Without another word Mark slipped out, and wandered through the empty and quiet hallway into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He stood there, the walls bearing down on him. His mind was a complete fuzz of non-emotion. He didn’t know quite how he was supposed to feel. Angry? Sad? Maybe he even felt a tiny bit of relief. But it was impossible to tell.

On autopilot, he changed into his nightclothes and sat on the bed, staring forwards. Through the thin walls he could hear his father in the other room, doing something in the kitchen. His eyes began to wander, and he found himself noticing things. Little marks in the carpet, where Trilomon had tiptoed around a little too hard on his bony claws. His own old schoolbooks, including the ones with torn pages after many a frustrating night. A framed picture on his mantelpiece, turned to face the other way.

“Why’d you have to go and leave again?”

For a moment he glared up at the frame, contemplating getting up and just dropping it out the window. Then he sighed, and shuffled further up onto the bed, his head heavy and swimming from the emotion.

“Guess I’m all you’ve got left, dad-“

He paused, and frowned, patting the bedcovers behind him. There was something lying there; something hard, and chunky. He pulled them back, and reached underneath, retrieving the mystery object.

It was a small, polymer device, with a circular screen and a wheel on the side. No patterns or embellishments at all; just a white shell with a grey lining. Almost. As Mark turned it in the light, the shell seemed to shimmer with a kind of iridescence.

“What on earth...?”

Mark tried pressing the screen, and turning the wheel, but it did nothing. He looked all around for some kind of charging port or battery pack, but again there was no luck.

He looked over at the bin, but something stopped him from discarding the object. It felt right in his grasp. A good weight. Durable. Strangely reassuring.

His eyes flickered. With no energy left to question anything, he placed the device on his bedside table, and rolled his body up, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes as past moments and conversations whirled through his head. Within moments he’d turned and switched off the light, preparing himself for another fitful sleep.

Mystery devices be damned. He could always make sense of them tomorrow.

Clothes, books and knick-knacks alike were strewn across the floor as Lonnie systematically emptied the contents of her wardrobes onto the floor, a thoughtful frown on her face.

“Come on, come on, I know I still have it somewh – a-HA!”

With a triumphant giggle she raised her hands aloft, clutching the cheap novelty mask for which she’d been searching for the past hour. She could still remember winning it at a fairground a few years ago, and it had joined her collection of other kitsch items which were just too darn fun to get rid of. Sure, she had to admit, she was a bit of a hoarder, but at the same time it was good to have your tendencies validated once in a while.

She pulled the mask on over her face, before throwing an old fur-lined jacket over her shoulders, buttoning it up and raising the hood. She turned her attention towards the mirror, hands on her hips as she snickered triumphantly.

Before she could further admire her handiwork, however, she heard the voice of her mother as she slowly approached the door.

“...you have a lot to answer for, Ali. Don’t give me that; she’s only like this because she listens to you. I mean, seriously; where exactly do I go to figure out the dietary requirements for a giant red newt. I haven’t yet found any recipe blogs that are that niche. What? What’s she eaten? Pretty much everything. Yes, you’ve said they get hungry, I’m just...you better had pay for all this...alright fine, but this is not over, I swear. Right, okay? Thanks for the-“

Her mother opened the door, and stopped mid-sentence as she caught sight of her daughter. She blinked, and held the phone up again.

“I’ll call you back.”

Lonnie turned, plonking her hands on her hips.

“What do you think, mother? It’s my tamer disguise.”

Carrie looked her daughter up and down; at the thick, fluffy coat hood wrestled haphazardly over a cheap mask with the visage of a clown, with cross eyes and a wide, toothy grin. The woman clawed her hands, mouthing ‘whyyyyyy’ at her daughter. Lonnie was unphased.

“How do I look?”

“You look like you’re about to commit siege warfare on a toy shop.”

“I can go with that.”

Carrie sighed, trying to push Lonnie’s door open a bit more and failing due to the massive pile of stuff behind it. “Why do I let you do things? The constant concussions, okay, that’s fair. But I’m nearly drawing the line at bringing home massive amphibian friends without asking me first.”

Lonnie raised her mask, and tapped her forefingers together. “It...was an emergency. And she found me. And I have the-“

Carrie raised a hand. “Save it. You definitely have your granny’s blood in you; nothing I say or do is gonna change your mind. I’ve gotten that far already.”

“Aw...you’re proud of me.”

Carrie ruffled through her own frizzy hair, glaring around. “I’ll be more proud of you once you put all this back where it came from.”

Lonnie raised a finger. “I...will...but I didn’t realise the time and I am late for an important Digimon related appointment with my friends.” She stuck her tongue out. “I have a lot to learn, apparently.”

Carrie raised an eyebrow. “As do I. Apparently I need to stock up on lots of high-fibre, high-protein meals otherwise your new friend is liable to eat the furniture.”

Lonnie was already skipping down the stairs, throwing thumbs-ups at her mother. “I believe in you!”

“Don’t-“

THWACK

“-run into the table, I’ve just moved it.”

There was a pause.

“...sorry mum...”

Rubbing her smarting shin, Lonnie placed her masterful disguise on the nearest hook and skittered into the living room, poking her head around the doorframe. Dendromon was currently sat in the middle of the floor, her face going redder than usual as six-year-old Sian sat on her shoulders, giggling like a lunatic and grabbing all around the salamander’s face. Her sister Anna was kneeling in the corner, head half-buried in an ominously large wicker trunk which housed a disturbing amount of dress-up clothes.

Dendromon glanced over at Lonnie, her eyes flashing with a silent plea for help.

Lonnie, as per usual, didn’t notice.

“I’m off out to meet a few people; I’ll be back later.”

“But I-“

“Froggy give horsey!”

Dendromon gave a hoarse quack as Sian bounced on her shoulders, sending them both toppling backwards with a crash. Sian, completely unperturbed by this, rolled away to join her sister next to the clothes pile.

“I wanna tiara.”

“I’m having the tiara!”

“Naw, you always have it!”

“I had it first!”

“Hey!” Lonnie narrowed her eyes, pointing between the two in as intimidating a manner as she could muster. “You two behave now. And look after Dendromon, alright?”

“We will!”

Lonnie grinned, and blew a kiss. “Awesome. See you all later!”

Dendromon raised a hand, but her tamer had disappeared before she could say a word. She turned her head, and watched as the two sisters looked into her eyes. Their lips unfurling into gap-toothed grins as, in complete unison, they pulled frilly and lacy dress-up costumes out of the foreboding basket.

If Lonnie had still been around, she would only have heard a resigned whimper.

Mark was not in a good mood.

Last night had not helped matters in this regard; his words to Kent, Trilomon and his own father still spinning around his head. And then of course there was the mysterious device which currently lay face up on the table in front of him, refusing to do anything helpful or even vaguely explanatory.

The boy huffed, and took a swig of tea. He wasn’t usually one for cafés, but they did have their uses for when he needed to clear his head. Which was becoming decidedly more frequent nowadays.

He held the device again, shaking it slightly in his palms.

“What the heck are you?”

“Are you finished with your drink?”

Mark started, quickly holding the device out of sight as he smiled at the server; a petite Latina girl with green eyes and her hair swept to one side. Mark shook his head, and she smiled sweetly, moving onto the next table. The young man sighed, grateful to be on the mezzanine and tucked into the corner, out of the way of prying eyes.

Mark gently pulled the device back into view. It really was something else; something he felt he had to protect at all costs. Almost like it was digging into his mind.

His table vibrated slightly, making his tea ripple. Mark didn’t really notice, instead just placing his head in his hand.

“It’s not the same as yours...”

He could vaguely recall the device which his brother carried around on occasion, although that seemed to disappear and reappear on a regular basis. Still, it had that kind of aura to it. An enticing glow.

Mark started again, and quickly held a hand over the device. He looked again, just to be sure. Yes, there was a definite purple glow on the screen, pulsing on and off very slowly. Mark waited for it to do anything more substantial, but nothing really happened.

He slowly found his mind wandering back to the reality around him. He caught stock of the waitress coming up the stairs again, folding her apron in her arms. Obviously the end of her shift. He nodded, but she didn’t look in his direction, instead making glances over her shoulder as she headed for the corridor at the end.

Mark thought nothing of it, only hearing the sound of voices as the girl opened a door to one of the upper rooms.

Then he stopped, and gently turned his head, trying to focus out all the noise below. There were voices, just down the hallway. Voices he recognised.

“I don’t get why it is she’s eating so much. She’s tiny, but she packs more away than me.”

“I remember Alasdair telling me about this once; it’s just down to how they work in this world.”

Gently, Mark straightened up a bit, trying to pinpoint who was talking. He could definitely recognise one of them. He’d know Lonnie’s playful lilt anywhere. And the other one sounded an awful lot like Grace Gallant, though he couldn’t be absolutely sure.

He took another sip of tea, while doing his best to eavesdrop inconspicuously, as a third voice piped up, young and male with an air of cockiness about him.

“It’s like when we went over there; our bodies went all computery.”

Now that rang a bell.

Mark placed his tea down, blocking out everything he could save for the voices at the end of the balcony. There was a small silence, then Lonnie’s voice piped up, “How does that work exactly?”

Then Grace. “What Jack means is that the other world is made up of...they called it data, but I guess it’s just another sort of atom or...something...it doesn’t matter, but it worked slightly differently. It hung around in the atmosphere and Digimon could use it to grow, feed, heal themselves; the whole world’s sort of alive.”

Jack’s voice again. “But here it doesn’t work like that; they can’t just live off the air. So they actually need to eat more. Perimon and the others can get a boost of energy from us if they need to evolve, though it doesn’t last as long as in the other world.”

“So...how many times do you deal with new Digimon who aren’t trying to beat up humans, but are just really hungry.”

Beat.

“...more often than you’d think.”

Mark sat back, feeling queasy. He couldn’t pick up everything, but there were a lot of words that jumped out at him. Data. Evolve. Digimon. He thought of Trilomon, who had always been so friendly...and who he’d never really questioned about any of this. But then again, he and Kent had tended to disappear whenever these incidents happened. And yesterday, Lonnie’s outburst against Brennan. It all seemed to be closing in on him, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

He couldn’t take anymore, and carefully peered around the corner. The waitress was standing there in the doorway, chatting to the three, as if she knew them. Mark tried to focus further, but suddenly the waitress stepped back, and he pulled himself out of sight as the three visitors came out onto the balcony. He inched forwards again. Definitely Lonnie and Grace, along with a teenage boy sporting a spiky stack of blonde hair. They closed the door behind them, before walking around the corner, the waitress leading them through another door that read ‘Private. Staff Only.’

Mark tensed, his fingers closing around his own device.

“I’m losing it. I’m going paranoid.”

He looked around himself, and down onto the ground floor. The café was still fairly populated; nobody else had noticed anything at all. Mark swallowed, and stood up, his tea unfinished. He descended the stairs, exited the café, and stepped outside, the grey skies cast over. For a moment he considered just walking away, ditching the device, and forgetting he’d ever seen or heard anything of the sort.

He glanced behind him. Then ahead. Then just around to the right of the café, where there was a small alleyway, leading around the back of the building.

Mark held his breath, and walked forwards, staying close to the wall as he followed it around. The back of the café was as one might expect; a little bit more messy than a usual alleyway, with a slightly disturbing amount of empty boxes. Mark pressed himself further back against the wall, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Perhaps his own fear. Or perhaps the device in his pocket which was now pulsing so much he could feel it through the fabric of his trousers.

He swallowed, hearing voices again. As the ground trembled again, he held the side of the wall, and peered around the corner. There they were; Lonnie, Grace, the boy named Jack, and the waitress, all standing in front of another wall. Mark squinted, not daring to get any closer from behind the chainlink fence, yet his curiosity winning out over his better judgement all the same.

The waitress stepped forwards, and for the first time Mark caught the full view of the wall, which seemed to hold a strange metallic mural. It was ornately carved, made of bronze and golden hues, in the shape of a dragon’s head that breathed ruby flames. Mark felt his device shiver in his pocket, and held tightly to it.

The waitress stepped forwards, and ran her hand down the smooth metal. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, as if by magic, the whole plate seemed to unfold.

Lonnie gaped as the metal split apart in front of her, twisting and turning as it extended out. As it did so, a rush of water seemed to come from the space that the plate left behind; a pitch-black void held in only by a ring of metal cubes.

It wasn’t a mural, but an entire creature; a long, serpentine form comprised of watery flesh that pulsed and rippled before her. The pieces of the mural were studded along its length, adding embellishments like those of a stereotypical dragon; plates along its back, claws on its feet, and the ruby-studded flames curving up and down across its mouth like interlocking teeth.

The water dragon shook its head, and its entire jaw split apart, dripping water on the concrete below.

“A new mate! Aw, Raquel, my little darlin’, you din’t tell me you were bringin’ friends. I’da polished myself up a titch.”

The waitress, Raquel, stroked her hair as she gave a knowing and slightly weary smile at Lonnie. “Please forgive her. As I said, Knuckmon can be a little bit...overfamiliar.”

“Aw, c’mon, you don’t mean that.”

Knuckmon bent down and nuzzled her head against the young woman, who giggled and pushed her back, her clothes not even wet. Lonnie didn’t notice, as she just stood in the centre of the courtyard, gawping at the massive aquatic reptile above her. Jack shuffled up, his hands behind his back. “See? I told you she was cool.”

“...Dragon!...Actual dragon!...”

Raquel blushed a little, holding her tray in front of her. “Please...I only look after her.”

“You do good cakes, miss.” Knuckmon’s eyes suddenly flashed, and she whipped her head towards the young woman. “You did bring cakes, right? I’m starvin’.”

Grace stepped forwards, opening the white box in front of her. “I don’t know why I’ve suddenly become doughnut peddler...”

“Yum!”

Grace let out an ‘eek’, and through the confections up as Knuckmon took a swipe at them, swallowing all twelve of them in one motion. She swallowed, and Lonnie watched in awe as the doughnuts spiralled down her long body and disappeared into the black abyss in the wall. Grace sidled up beside her, wringing the empty doughnut box out.

“What do you think?”

Lonnie whistled, stars dancing in her eyes. “She’s beautiful. Where did you find her?”

“Oh, it wasn’t us. Raquel tracked us down when we were chasing something else; said she had a dragon in her cellar eating out of the rubbish.” The girl shrugged. “There are a lot of Digimon like her, stuck in this world with nowhere to go. But at the same time there are a lot of kids like us who just want to help.”

The girl glanced over at Raquel, who stood by the dragon, running her hand through the water of the dragon’s chest, as if she were stroking a large puppy.

“She was a bit of a handful when we found her, but she’s pretty harmless.”

“I’ll have y’mind your own manners, young marm.” Knuckmon sniffed, pressing a front paw into her puffed-out chest. “I am a proper lady, I’ll have you know. Done a lot on speaking right and all.”

Knuckmon chuckled, but stopped suddenly, her snout wrinkling.

“I could’ve sworn there was someone else round ‘ere.”

Before anybody could stop her, her head snapped sideways, followed by the rest of her body as she snaked along the ground, her metal plates clattering against each other. She half reformed near the corner, sniffing and peering around, as Raquel ran after her.

“I told you not to leave! What if somebody sees you?”

Knuckmon pulled back, sniffing apologetically. “I was being cautious like you told me.”

“Well stop being cautious and start practising being quiet, alright?”

Knuckmon hung her head, clearly remorseful. Lonnie laughed, before looking at the corner herself, ever so slightly nervous.

“You...don’t think we’ve been seen, do you?”

Jack shrugged from behind her. “We did check before we came. And face it; who would ever need to come back here unless you already work here?”

Lonnie gave a half smile. “I guess so...”

Mark’s head pounded as he ran, still holding on to his device for dear life. He passed through side roads and alleyways, before stopping, out of breath, just at the edge of the park. There he held his knees, staring down at the ground.

But the vision of the water dragon, unfurling like a ferocious flower before his very eyes, remained seared into his brain.

“What...what the hell is going on...”

Mark headed forwards, further across the field. The trees surrounding it were still thick this time of year, with only the slightest hint of red foliage to mark the oncoming cold. There was nobody around; the grey skies and chill in the air putting off many.

But the young man didn’t care. He walked hurriedly, barely watching where he was going as he spoke under his breath.

“Digimon...Digimon everywhere...they’re hiding, everybody else knows about them. Lonnie, Grace...they know everything.”

He stumbled, the ground shifting beneath his steps, but carried on further into the winding pathways.

“Kent...how...how far does this all go?”

He stopped, and held his head in his hands, staring at the ground.

“Why? Why now? Why me? What the hell did I-“

Rumble

Mark jumped, the sudden tremor throwing him off his feet. He landed with a thud, and winced, holding his coccyx as he stared around. Before he could even get his bearings, the rumbling started again. Something else was up.

The boy pushed himself to his feet, looking around as he did so. The fog over his mind had cleared in an instant, replaced by a single, burning instinct.

Imminent danger.

Mark stepped backwards, and the rumbling started up again. He swallowed, looking down at the ground which was definitely shifting beneath his feet, the hard earth trembling around in great blocks.

A glow caught his eye; one coming from his own left hand. Slowly, he raised his device, the purple light illuminating his face. The display was still fuzzy, but shapes were beginning to make themselves known in the gloom. A pulsating purple dot in a field of grey contours. And ahead of it, another dot, this one red. One which was getting closer. And closer. And with every movement, the ground shook all the more.

Mark’s legs acted before his mind could catch up, and he threw himself backwards as the ground split into pieces beneath him. He edged back, clinging to a tree trunk behind him as the ground was shifted, spinning and crumbling as a giant, iron drill poked its way through the solid earth. It slowed, the whirring vibrations dying down, and a voice cut through the still grey air.

“Yes...yeeeeees...you were here, where I found you...I knew it...I knew the light would guide me...my salvation...”

The voice cracked into laughter as the drill rose up again, revealing itself to be attached to the snout of a great, fuzzy mole-like creature, as large as a bull. Its head was massive, as were its broad front paws, each of them splaying out and tipped with tiny drills of their own. Its pelt was purple and white, and its eyes were a deep brown, brimming with excitement and barely-concealed ambition. An ambition that was quelled slightly as, below each eye, it had a little squiggle drawn on its face in the shape of a curly moustache.

Mind you, silly moustache or no, there really is no arguing with a good two tons of angry beaver wearing a piece of mining equipment on its nose, and Mark was very willing to take that to heart.

The NiseDrimogemon, for that’s what it was, was far less coy about its newfound encounter. With a cackle, it bounded forwards, circling around and standing in front of Mark, grinning wildly.

“I finally found you...”

He leered forwards, and Mark got a good look and smell at the beast’s rows of triangular teeth. The boy pushed his neck back, trying hard to keep the fear from showing on his face.

“I...don’t know who you are...”

NiseDrimogemon giggled. “You will. You must. I know you. I’ve been following you, yes I have. I could smell you.” He pressed forwards, the tip of his drill resting against the tree trunk above Mark’s head. “You’re carrying the light. I knew I’d find you if I followed him.”

Mark’s eyes widened. He slowly brought up his hand, showing the device to the giant mole as it pulsed intensely. NiseDrimogemon shuddered suddenly, making Mark flinch.

“Yeeeeees...my saviour...”

The boy shook his head. “You’ve got it wrong. I only found this last night. I have nothing to do with...your world...”

“But you were chosen.”

“I wasn’t! This is just an accident!”

“You were chosen for me.”

Mark’s shoulders jerked upwards, and he clenched his fists. “Leave me alone. I’m not part of your world.”

NiseDrimogemon chuckled, and opened a paw, its eyes flashing. “I can change that...we belong together...you and me, we can do great things, yes we can, MARVELLOUS things...just let me join you...”

“SHUT UP!” bellowed Mark, as he thrust his free hand out, striking the giant mole on the lower jaw. It reared back, letting out a whimper as Mark freed himself, keeping his hands raised and two eyes firmly on the creature.

NiseDrimogemon shook, and sat up, holding its front paws over its mouth. It shook its head erratically, almost as if it had an itch on its neck.

“No...no no no no...you were chosen...I chose you...you’re supposed to come with me...”

Mark’s eyes travelled up as he noticed the drill twitching, clunking left and right. Then it began to spin, the frightening whir starting up again as NiseDrimogemon glared down at the boy.

“I want you!”

Mark turned on his heels and ran as fast as he could, hearing the whine of the drill growing once again. He turned left, then right, but even as he tried to put as much distance as he could between him and the mole, his head told him that there was little he could do. Already he could feel the earth quaking as the beast swum through the ground beneath his feet.

“I was never chosen by anyone!”

A sudden pain shot up his arm, and he ground to a halt, looking at the device. The red dot was still there; moving chaotically, but definitely moving closer.

But there was something else on the screen, something right next to him. It swirled and shimmered, seemingly causing the fog on the screen. He looked around, and noticed an actual mist forming around him; dense and glistening, looking almost unnatural.

No...it seemed to be coming from the undergrowth to the right of him.

His head screamed at him to keep running; to throw his device aside, get out of the park, and cast the giant drill moles and living dragon murals aside forever.

Yet he walked forwards anyway, and gingerly stepped through the bushes.

He blinked, and looked away, the phenomenon in front of him hurting to look at. It was like the air itself had been cut open with a Stanley knife, and forced apart to reveal...something on the other side. Something he couldn’t make out; a spinning void of impossibilities that defied space-time.

Hurriedly he closed his eyes, and looked away, the doorway making him feel sick. The mist seeped out from the base of it, spreading far and wide. He could feel it diffusing through the legs of his trousers, and possibly through his own skin. This was not natural. There was no doubt about that.

Mark was so transfixed by the portal before him, that it blinded his senses to danger. And to the growing tremors from right beneath his feet.

“Got you!”

The ground fell open, and Mark stumbled, flailing wildly as he toppled forwards. At least at first, before a broad, splayed paw grabbed him by one shin and held him fast. Mark kicked wildly, twisting his body round, but the mole’s grip was like a vice, and he soon found himself on his back, looking up at NiseDrimogemon’s excited expression.

“You found my home, human. It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

Mark gritted his teeth. “Let me go! I don’t want anything to do with you!”

NiseDrimogemon’s face fell, and for a moment it looked confused.

“You don’t want me...? But I chose you...”

Anger flashed in its eyes, and its grip grew ever tighter. Mark winced, and looked down, seeing the creature’s claws spinning in their sockets, grinding against bare flesh.

“You don’t have a choice. You’re mine. I found you. Finders keepers. You...yes...you can fix everything...yes you can...you have to come with me-“

“Let me go!”

“YOU HAVE TO COME WITH ME!”

“NO!”

Mark’s leg shot out, and he struck NiseDrimogemon in the face again. The mole roared, and raised its other paw, the claws spinning wildly as he pointed them down towards Mark’s chest. The boy closed his eyes, waiting for the end.

If he’d been looking behind him, he would have seen the portal folding in on itself, caressing the air around it into another shape. A corporeal shape, low to the ground, forcing its way through layers of swirling space.

“B...Bolt Blaster!”

Something shot past Mark’s ears, and immediately the pressure fell from the boy’s leg as NiseDrimogemon reared backwards, blood spurting from a hole in his shoulder. The mole roared, and raised a palm, but another two blasts sounded and he held back, glaring down as his drill twitched wildly.

Mark looked to his right, taking in the beast that now stood beside him. It was about the size of a large dog, but it looked very much like one of the dinosaurs in the books he’d had as a kid. It had stocky legs and a barrel-like belly, and a long tail swinging a large metallic ball at the end. Blue metallic plates covered its back, shoulders and feet, and a large one stuck out from the back of its head as a shield-like frill.

The dinosaur glanced sideways, smiling at Mark with a curved beak. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Mark tried to speak, but wasn’t really able to form any words. The dinosaur just nodded. “I’m...Chromon. Nice to finally m...meet you.”

“You! ”

Chromon tensed, looking up as NiseDrimogemon pawed the ground, his drill whining. “You...you, you, you’re supposed to be back in the other world! I left you! You’re not supposed to be here!”

Chromon walked forwards, placing himself between the mole and the boy. “Neither are you. Leave Mark alone right...right now.”

“I won’t let you take him! I chose him! He’s mine!”

NiseDrimogemon reared up, his drill going at mach speed as he stabbed downwards.

“False Drill Spin!”

“Move!”

Mark rolled out of the way and Chromon dodged as the drill struck the ground, splitting apart the hard earth with ease. Chromon ran, but NiseDrimogemon swung his head to the right, carving a trench through the ground after him. The dinosaur swung back with his tail, clanging against the whirring contraption to little effect other than causing himself to stumble sideways.

“Bolt Blaster!”

The metal projectiles grazed the giant mole’s cheek and caused him to rear back, pulling his drill from the ground. He growled, and brought his head up to stab down once again.

“You need to disappear! False Drill Spin!”

“Shield Reflect!”

Chromon’s head shone, and a circle of metal spun outwards between him and the drill, which made sparks as it ground against the metal. Chromon dug his heels in, but the weapon was as persistent as its owner, and NiseDrimogemon pushed downwards. The shield shattered, and Chromon narrowly escaped as the iron spike swung at his front legs.

Mark watched as the two tussled in the mist; it was a clumsy, frantic brawl on both sides, but even though Chromon was smaller he was not agile, and he was slipping up more and more. NiseDrimogemon may have been easily distracted, but his will was as strong as he was, and he was clearly out for the dinosaur’s blood.

Mark staggered to his feet, his shin aching from where NiseDrimogemon had caught him. He so wanted to run, but he couldn’t. He just remained transfixed on the battle before him, and on the little dinosaur who had come to his rescue.

“This...is nothing to do with...me...”

He held his hand to his chest, feeling the device pulsing in his grip as it screamed at him to act.

“I was never a part of this...this is all just an accident...”

Even so, he could feel his heart racing, and his stomach twisting as he realised that the little dinosaur was tiring.

“Stop...please...”

“Shield Reflect!”

Chromon swung round, forming the shield at an angle to deflect NiseDrimogemon’s claws and send him off balance. As the mole flailed, the dinosaur swung round, his tail crunching against his opponent’s wrist. It buckled, and the mole roared.

“You don’t deserve this! I do! I’ve fought for longer than you!”

He flailed wildly with his free hand, and Chromon misjudged his own movements, getting caught by the claw and sent rolling. He pushed himself up partway, but before he could move again NiseDrimogemon was on top of him, pinning him down with both paws.

Mark took a step, his breathing shallow and erratic as he yelled out, “Let him go!”

NiseDrimogemon twitched, his drill spinning so fast that he couldn’t hold his head still, the great leering grimace shaking back and forth. “No...never...he’ll just be in the way...he needs to go...to go... forever...”

Chromon strained, looking over at the boy as the drill edged ever closer to his neck.

“Mark...please...run.”

Time seemed to stop. The boy could hear only his own breathing as he dug in with his heels, and held out the device two-handed in front of him.

“I said...let...him...GO!”

A blast of light shot out, arcing downwards and striking the dinosaur point-blank. Chromon took a sharp breath, his whole body juddering as a purple aura sprung up around him. It lashed out, striking and scorching NiseDrimogemon’s paws and sending the mole reeling back, hissing as he did so.

“No no no no no NO! It’s not fair!”

Mark could barely hear him over the rushing in his ears; his focus entirely on the dinosaur’s body before him. The device in the young man’s hands glowed a bright white. Then, the light dissipated, replaced with a light purple shell, emblazoned with a violet gear pattern. The screen cleared; the foggy display turning instead into the glowing symbol of a chain mace.

The boy’s arms moved of their own volition as he brought the device to his palm, and drew it away, the wheel spinning and pulling streams of white light from his arm. It burned, but only for a second. Even so, he could feel the energy strings pulling at every muscle in his body, straining to be free.

“Chromon...Soul Accelerate!”

The dinosaur’s body pulsed as it lifted from the ground, glowing purple patches spreading throughout his skin. Mark turned his hand around, and slammed it into the screen of his D-SEND.

“Evolution Activate!”

The shockwave burst outwards, running over Chromon’s body with a rippling surge of data. The dinosaur twitched, his mainframe rippling beneath his skin, ready to burst out at any time. The glow intensified as the lights swirled beneath him, spinning and pulling his data away. Mark watched as the lights rose up, the dinosaur jerking and swelling beneath them, with new skin and armaments materialising and interlocking over the top. The lights reached the top, and the new creature unfurled, descending to earth with a massive crash.

He raised his head, and called to the sky, his booming voice edged with a synthetic ripple. He was larger than Drimogemon; as tall as a bus, only far spikier and deadlier. He was semi-bipedal; holding himself up on two muscular hind legs, and holding two almost robotic forelegs in front of him, with a myriad of pistons, cables and wires ending in two mechanised claws. His tail was long and bulky; too heavy to hold up constantly like before, but instead resting on the ground, and ending with a spiked morning star. His back and shoulders were shielded in spiky armour plate, and the shield around his head had grown into a full frill. An armoured helm protruded over his beaklike snout, with metal spikes piercing out from the front like horns

His body clicked, clanked and shifted as he moved every joint in turn, turning to face the stunned NiseDrimogemon.

“Ceratomon!”

Mark stared up at the metal titan, feeling drained from the sudden rush. Ceratomon peered back at him, but said nothing.

“How...DARE you!”

The metal titan closed his eyes, before shifting around, staring down NiseDrimogemon as the mole shook with fury.

“How dare you steal the chosen from me!”

Ceratomon rolled his neck, and raised his arms, the plates on his back scraping against each other.

“This man is not yours to steal.”

“Thief! Braggard! I won’t let you have him! False Drill Spin!”

The mole lunged forwards with his weapon turning at a frightening rate, but Ceratomon was ready, raising both arms and clamping them around the spinning appendage. Sparks flew everywhere and a horrific grinding noise filled the air, but Ceratomon was unfazed; he thrust his arms to one side, throwing the NiseDrimogemon off balance. The mole growled, and swiped, striking the dinosaur on the chest plate.

Ceratomon stepped backwards, but he was practically immovable in his new form. He reached forwards and grabbed the mole by the shoulders, wrenching him upwards and over his shoulder in a suplex. The mole lashed out, but Ceratomon spun around, his tail striking NiseDrimogemon’s flank and caving the flesh in.

“It’s time to stop!”

NiseDrimogemon growled, and reared up, grasping Ceratomon by the shoulders and trying to bring the dinosaur down. Mark backed away as the two wrestled, with NiseDrimogemon stabbing at Ceratomon’s chest and shoulders, though his drill merely chipped the metal plating.

“I...it belongs to me...it is mine, it is mine...it isn’t yours...you can’t claim it! What makes you so special? False Drill Spin!”

He lunged forwards, his drill grinding against Ceratomon’s cheek. The dinosaur shrugged him off, and pulled an arm back, the machinery whirring in his upper body and causing jets of steam to billow out from his elbow.

“Piston Punch!”

He brought his arm forwards like a thunderclap, landing a crunching blow on NiseDrimogemon’s sternum. The mole woofed, and staggered back, but Ceratomon wasn’t finished; using his momentum he brought his other arm back and repeated the attack. The motion was mechanical, precise and deadly effective, with each blow crunching into the mole’s face and chest, forcing him backwards. After eight hits, Ceratomon’s gears ran down, and he stood, catching his breath in front of the mole’s bloodied body.

NiseDrimogemon didn’t go down. He swiped. He lunged. But Ceratomon grabbed his shoulders, and pushed, the dinosaur’s eyes steeled and unforgiving. And NiseDrimogemon turned too late to see the gaping portal behind him.

“No...”

He struggled, but Ceratomon grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, raising his free arm and pulling the elbow back.

“This world isn’t ready for you!”

“No! Please, you can’t, no you can’t send me back!”

Ceratomon didn’t answer; he merely brought his arm forwards in one final brutal blow into the mole’s sternum. NiseDrimogemon stumbled backwards, the vortex grabbing hold of him and overwhelming him. He struggled in vain as his figure broke up the swirling vortex, swiping at nothing. His form disappeared in the white void, as with a great rushing of air the fog was sucked back inside. Then, as if by magic, the air was still again. No portal. Only the remaining fog descending on the ground.

Ceratomon caught his breath, resting on his knuckles as he stared forwards. His body glistened in the midday sun, shimmering just a little. Mark blinked as he stepped forwards, watching as the dinosaur’s form seemed to shrink instantaneously. Within moments, it had returned to the smaller form from before.

Chromon staggered to one side, barely managing to stay upright as he smiled at the boy.

“I’m ever so sorry about that, Mark. I d...d-didn’t want to bring you to harm. But he caught me before I could come and find you first.”

The boy stared ahead, almost in a daze. Then he shook his head, and crouched down to one knee.

“You know my name...do you know my brother?”

Chromon swallowed, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“I came l-looking for you.”

“But...why me? What do you want with me?”

Chromon placed an armoured foot on his snout.

“I’m sorry. The digital world...chose you. And m-me.”

Mark could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and he held the ground for support.”

“...Chose us...”

“The d...digital world’s looking for tamers once again. You’ve been chosen, Mark. You’ve been entrusted to save the world.”

The dinosaur smiled, but the friendliest of demeanours couldn’t do much to mask the sudden and sizeable responsibility which he was thrusting on the boy’s shoulders.

Mark closed his eyes, and stayed there for a good few moments. Then he looked down at the device in his hand, which had stopped glowing, the screen merely reflecting back his own face.

“Partners...?”

“I...is there a problem?”

The boy smiled wryly, and shook his head.

“No, I...no. There isn’t. I just need to have a good, long talk with a couple of people.” He glanced up into the dinosaur’s scarlet eyes. “Chromon, is it?”

The dinosaur nodded. “Former watcher of the digital world. Now called to actually save it. It’s...a big ask for me as well...and if it makes you feel any better, I don’t know w-what I’m doing either.”

“Well that figures.” Mark stood up, and his face settled into a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Chromon. I look forward to working with you.”

Without another word, the two walked off together, leaving the clearing with nothing but the sunbeams stabbing through the canopy, and the faintest dusting of silver data on the ground.