“Soul Accelerate!”

A breeze whipped over the top of the carriage, leaving only a slight rattle. Dendromon stood still as she looked up at her partner, who was still holding her arm out as stiff and determined as a contemporary statue. Dendromon sighed, her gills flickering.

Lonnie pulled her hand back and thrust it forwards again, more vigour in her voice than ever.

“Soul...Accelerate!”

Still nothing. The girl relaxed, and stared at the device in her hands. She glanced back at Dendromon. “You try it.”

“I don’t think that’s how it-“

“Just try it!”

The salamander sighed. “Dendromon. Soul Accelerate. Evolution Activate.”

“Come on; put some effort into it, please?”

“Look, I’m really sorry but...I genuinely don’t feel anything. Nothing’s happening. I am still but a poor squat little froggie. Apologies.”

Lonnie shuffled back from the edge of the carriage, and shook her D-SEND wildly. She pulled her mask up, squinting at the device and poking at the random buttons. Then, as a last resort, she brought her fist up and smacked the centre of the screen in a vain attempt at percussive maintenance.

This did at least elicit a reaction; namely the device letting off a garble of numbers and spurting fire from the top. Lonnie yelped as she whacked the infernal contraption against her jeans, and the fire disappeared in an instant. She groaned, and held her lips with her fingers.

“...I think I’ve broken it already...”

Dendromon still stood at the edge, pointing down. “What are we gonna do about our situation then? Do we have a plan B?”

As if to illustrate the point, Stegomon took exactly this moment to stir slightly. It let off a groggy mutter, stretched its feet out, and rolled, its ball-shaped body making the sleepers creak as it turned a full one-hundred-and-eighty, and nudged against the front of the train.

The entire three carriages juddered with the impact, sending off another spiel of panicked announcements from the hapless temp staff below. Lonnie and Dendromon themselves wobbled like crazy, and before Dendromon knew what was happening she found herself on her side and rolling down towards the edge of the roof.

“ACK! HELP!”

“I’ve got you!”

Lonnie cannoned forwards, skidding on her knees and grabbing the amphibian the second before she disappeared over the edge. They sat for a moment, Dendromon lying limply in Lonnie’s arms as they both tried to catch their breath. Eventually Lonnie let out a laugh, and booped the salamander on the snout.

“That was silly.”

“I have wet feet, Lonnie. It’s slippery up here.”

“Fair point, fair point.”

The girl stood her partner up, and began to pace back and forth herself. “Right, okay, sit-rep; this guy is...very big and very heavy and it can do a bunch of damage to the train and we can’t evolve you. This is actually gonna be a problem. We need to do something very quickly.”

“Agreed.” Dendromon said. She folded her arms, nodding sagely, until a comment caught her attention. “Wait...you’ve only just realised now this is a problem?”

Lonnie raised a palm. “Hush shush shush. I’m trying to do a think.” She clicked her fingers. “The Stegomon must have come from somewhere. One of your digital gates.”

“Well that’s something. It’s quite nearby actually.”

Lonnie started. “How did you know that?”

“Ancient Digimon magic,” replied Dendromon, wiggling her fingers in the air.

Lonnie blinked. “Really? That’s so cool!”

The salamander facepalmed, and pointed. “No, you pleb, I can see it! Funnily enough, it’s actually pretty big!”

Lonnie turned around, and for the first time actually noticed twenty-foot tall tear in space-time hovering about three-hundred metres away at the end of the field. The girl stuck her lip out. “How about that? Cool!”

Without warning, she pulled her mask down, took a step forwards, twisted, and promptly vanished off the edge of the train. Dendromon let out a little squeak, and rushed forwards, just in time to see the girl dropping herself down step by step, until she reached the gravel below, taking care to steer clear of the rails. She looked up at Dendromon and gave a thumbs-up. “Jump!”

Dendromon raised her arms out to her sides. “But...why?”

“I have a plan!” Lonnie beckoned. “Come on! It’s okay; I’ll catch you!”

Dendromon closed her eyes, and counted to ten. Twice. Then she swallowed, and leapt off the edge. There was a scrabbling, before she landed in Lonnie’s arms, causing the girl to stagger back in a winded fashion.

“Geez. I thought you would’ve dropped down a little more gently!”

“You didn’t ask me to!” Dendromon grumbled, before looking away. “Although at least you did catch me...”

“Hey now, you’re important to me. Would I ever drop you?”

“...you literally slam-dunked me into a toilet bowl the other day...”

Lonnie raised a finger. Then lowered it. Then suddenly and miraculously managed to change the subject. “So what were we doing again?”

“You tell me! You’re the one who made me jump off the train after making me climb on top of the train in the first place-“ The amphibian raised both palms, and took a breath, before holding a hand out. “The dinosaur. The portal. I assume we actually do have some kind of a plan?”

Lonnie thumped a fist in her palm. “Ah yes, of course. Operation Land-Before-Time.”

She backed away, looking over her shoulder and back again, and holding up her fingers in a rectangle shape in front of her, humming all the way. “Yeah...yeah...I think we can make this work.”

She whistled, and beckoned the amphibian over. “Come and stand over here; I think this is far enough.”

Dendromon did so, obliging as Lonnie grasped her shoulders and shifted her back and forth. Something caught her eye, and the salamander pointed. “I think we’re on TV.”

Lonnie looked down, then over at the train. “Ah. Yes, you’re right.”

There were a small number of passengers, staff and general onlookers in the front-most carriage, who were staring out at the two of them with disbelief on their faces. A couple of them had their phones out, clearly taking pictures. Dendromon groaned. “This probably isn’t helping...”

“Well...we’ll just have to deal with them later. Lives are on the line. Dinosaurs need shifting. Normal saving the world stuff.” Lonnie looked over at the window, and gave a little wave. “Hellooo.”

“I would hardly call getting the British rail service moving again ‘saving the world’.”

“One step at a time, Dendromon. Come on; where’s your ambition? Right...that should do it.”

Lonnie straightened up, giving a satisfactory laugh. “Okay now, whenever you’re ready, please shoot the dinosaur in the eye.”

Dendromon raised an arm, her middle talon glowing. Then she lowered her arm, and stared up at Lonnie. The girl clasped her hands together. “Okay, I know it sounds crazy-“

“This?” Dendromon thrust an arm out. “THIS is your plan? It is asleep. Why is this your plan?”

“...cause it’s too heavy to push.”

The newt raised a finger, then bit her lip. “I mean...good point but still...really?”

“No, see, it’s gonna be fine. The D-SEND said Stegomon is fairly dense, and very heavy, and if we provoke it enough it will charge at us. But since it’s so heavy, we can easily jump out of the way and due to the laws of inertia and momentum it will keep going in a straight line and run right through the portal, and we’ve got a dinosaur out the way without any more problems.”

Dendromon held her lips out. “Do...you really think it’s gonna work?”

“Why wouldn’t it? Have you ever fought a Stegomon before?”

“...I guess not, but then neither have you.”

Lonnie raised a palm. “Scouts honour, this’ll work. I saw it on TV one time. It has to.”

For a moment Dendromon’s expression was a forlorn one. Then she sighed, and turned to face the giant slumbering beast, which was pawing the air with one of its hind legs, snoring in oblivious bliss.

Dendromon wnced, and held up her arm, her talon glowing as motes of orange and green light concentrated at the end.

“Acid Arc!”

The talon pulsed, and a spinning ball of fire shot from her finger like a sniper’s bullet, careening directly into Stegomon’s face.

There was a disgruntled snort, and the earth began to shudder as Stegomon’s eye burst open. The great beast swayed, and rolled...straight onto the front of the train yet again. Lonnie winced at the series of crunching noises and faint alarms, and raised her palms at the watchers in the window, frantically gesturing the word ‘sorry’ at them.

Stegomon gave up, and decided to roll the other way, its spikes juddering against one another as it finally landed on its front. It lay there for a few seconds, its back quivering as it stared forwards at the two, blinking blearily and snorting in a manner most befitting somebody who has just been poked in the eye while they were asleep.

Dendromon held her talon up at Lonnie. “Do I need to-“

“No, no, I think that was plenty.” Lonnie placed a hand on her partner’s shoulder. “Get ready to jump...”

With a sudden, mighty bellow, Stegomon pushed itself to its feet and began to canter forwards, its legs pounding against the earth and its tail swishing from side to side, buffeting the train carriage even more. Its eyes flashed blue and steam poured from its nostrils as it picked up speed, aiming its massive bulk directly at the two partners.

Lonnie held Dendromon by the shoulders, counting under her breath as the great reptilian mass surged forwards. Dendromon stomped the ground nervously. “Uh...Lonnie...Lonnie...oh god I don’t want to die!”

“NOW!”

The girl and the salamander lurched sideways as the dinosaur thundered past, leaving dust in its wake. The girl stood up first, getting to her feet as she watched her plan unfold. Dendromon got up beside her, a little disorientated from the whole affair. “What is it? Did it work? Is it gone?”

Silence. Just Lonnie standing stock still, watching the dinosaur running and making noises of consideration.

“You know...it’s not running quite as fast as I thought it might.” She nodded. “Yup...I think it’s veering.”

The girl was right. At its deadly top speed of...ten miles an hour, there was still a good couple of hundred metres between the dinosaur and the portal. Not yet completely blind, Stegomon was veering to one side, its momentum now carrying it in a large arc, and making it miss the portal entirely.

Dendromon folded her arms. “Well...at least it’s got it away from the train...”

“That’s true, that’s true. It just goes to show you can’t believe everything you see on TV.” Lonnie raised a hand to the brow of her mask. “Mind you, it, uh...it does seem like it’s coming all the way round.”

“...”

“Do you think it’s coming back this way?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. You’re the expert.”

Lonnie huffed.

“You really sure you can’t evolve?”

“...sorry...”

“That’s fine, that’s fine, no worries.” Lonnie took a step back. “You know...ten miles an hour really does seem an awful lot faster when it’s coming right at you, doesn’t it...”

The girl and the amphibian shared a glance. Then they screamed in unison, turned tail, and ran wildly off along the grass, with nine tonnes of heavily armoured and pissed-off dinosaur hot on their heels.

As Stegomon’s pursuit shook the ground, all three carriages were knocked back and forth, with the rearmost one slipping and going askew. Not that anybody present could really tell, as the interior scene was one of utter calamity, with three drunk red lizards spiralling around the air as two humans, a dinosaur and a large fox rushed around below in a desperate and vain attempt to calm them down.

“Snow Blast!”

Vulpimon thrust her head around, coating the windows with frost as she aimed at a nearby Gochmon. It fluttered out of the way of the first blast, but Vulpimon was quick, leaping onto a nearby seat and firing a second shot at point blank range. The dragon swerved sideways, landing in Grace’s arms as she grabbed hold of it.

“We need...to find where...these guys came from!”

“This is censorship, young woman! This is oppression of HIC speech and free will!”

“Oh...will you just-“

“Draigfang!”

Grace ducked as a second dragon flew over her head, swinging his claws and teeth wide and taking a gash out of her hoodie. She just about managed to avoid any injury herself, but her grip loosened enough for the drake to wriggle free, chirruping as it left. The two dragons spiralled against each other and careened into yet another window, singing all the way.

Slightly further back, Chromon was having even less success as he swung left and right, managing to cause more damage to the carriage than the dragons were. The third Gochmon was flitting between him and Mark, who was having his own completely unsuccessful run of trying to hold it in place.

After a fifth wild swing and a subsequent discordant yell in the ear, Mark turned back to Grace and held his arms up. “We have to have a better plan than this because this is just bullshit.”

“There isn’t...enough room in here...to do anything...”

Grace ducked back into a cluster of chairs as Vulpimon leapt upwards in front of her, resorting to the very unladylike method of just trying to throttle the nearest dragon outright, and getting thrown aside for her troubles. The girl pulled on the tassels of her hoodie, looking around for inspiration.

“Mark, can you open the doors?”

The boy threw another swing at the nearest drake, before rushing backwards and stabbing the button with his finger.

“No good. Something must have dislodged; they’re not opening.”

“Well break it open then.”

Mark looked down. “I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“It’s public property!”

“For god’s sake...have you seen the rest of the carriage, Mark?”

The boy thrust a finger out. “That’s no excuse for rowdy behaviour. I will not go to jail for your damn ideas!”

“Mark, out the way!”

The boy leapt back with a yelp as Chromon rushed forwards, crashing into the opposite wall and facing the offending door. He fired twice; one bolt at each hinge which buckled them both, before rushing forwards.

“C-c-c-cover your eyes!”

Mark held his arms up as Chromon swung around, his tail mace striking the metal with a resounding clang. The door burst outwards, the two halves crashing to the ground below as a rush of wind flew inside. Immediately there was a whooping and a cheering, and the three dragons fluttered out one after the other.

“Yes! Freedom!”

“Frrrreeeedom from opprrrression, my brethren!”

“Seize the day! Yip yippee!”

Mark and Grace reconvened in the shattered doorway as they watched the dragons swooping and hollering and generally being completely ineffectual in the open air, before twisting around each other and treating the surrounding countryside to a rousing rendition of ‘It’s Coming Home’.

Mark sighed, and looked down at Chromon in a frustrated fashion.

“Why?”

The dinosaur gave a side-glance. “Look, if anyone asks...it was the d...Digimon who did it.”

“Come on; we’re not done yet.”

Grace pulled her bag up her shoulder, and hopped down onto the ground below, beckoning Mark to follow her. Soon they were all stood at the edge of the field, watching as the dragons whirled around in rapturous joy. Mark placed his hands on his hips.

“Okay, so...now we’re out in a more open space. What exactly was the plan here?”

“Hold on...”

Grace rummaged around in her bag, before pulling out a long leather strap and a loop of wire, passing it to Mark. “I’ve done this before; the Digimon will round them up and we can hook them in with these. It’s great at sedating these kinds of tiny flying types.”

Mark blinked, and held the device back out towards the girl. She tilted her head. “Yes?”

“This is a coat hanger on a belt.”

“You’d be surprised at how effective it is.”

“...this is a COAT HANGER-“

“Alright, geez! I know! I improvised!”

“I...I just...” Mark clutched his head, screaming into his sleeve for a few seconds, before whirling around and pointing at Grace. “You are just as bad as Lonnie. What the hell kind of game do you think you’re playing here?”

Grace shrugged her shoulders, throwing the device on the ground. “Well I’m sorry I’ve had to get creative cause I can’t turn into a goddamn ice wizard anymore!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“No, go on, it’s fine, I understand your brother was so much smarter than all of us and could put together something in three minutes to solve everything but some of us have to work with what we have-“

Mark clenched his fists. “DO NOT go there right now!”

Grace held her arms up. “I’m already there because for some reason somebody decided it would be fun for me to fight goddamn drunk singing dragons on a Sunday morning!”

The two glared at each other, but the confrontation died down as it was replaced by a distant screaming. The two looked sideways as they watched Lonnie and Dendromon rushing across the field being pursued by a large lumbering lizard. The Gochmon stopped in the middle of their song as well, taking the time to applaud and cheer all the participants on.

Mark took a deep breath, and looked at the mass of leather in his hands.

“I’m being overly pedantic, aren’t I...”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“I’m sorry. We...should...probably wrap this all up.”

“I’m good with that.”

There was the sound of hurried footsteps in front of them, and Lonnie rushed up, taking a moment to catch her breath. “Sorry...about the bumping...it didn’t quite go to plan...”

She looked behind her, raising an eyebrow at the three dragons who were dancing around Chromon and Vulpimon while trilling all the way. “I guess this was a bit more complicated than we thought.”

Grace tilted sideways, staring at Stegomon in the distance. “Erm...is Dendromon okay out there?”

Lonnie placed her hands on her hips. “She is good, isn’t she? I owe her many chocolate bars.”

She raised a finger, and pointed towards Mark. “That reminds me; do you fancy swapping targets? You said that Chromon had already evolved, and we’re having a bit of trouble right now with the whole massive reptile thing.”

Now it was Mark’s turn to lean sideways, watching as his partner was trying and failing to hit the fast moving dragons as their claws clanged off his armour. The boy folded his arms. “I daresay it can’t be a worse idea than the ones we’ve already tried.” He reached inside his pocket, and pulled out his D-SEND. “Alright then, but we need to try and intercept it without causing too much of a disturbance-“

Lonnie turned on her heels, stuck her fingers beneath her mask and gave a loud whistle, before shouting out, “HEY DENDROMON, BRING HIM THIS WAY, WE’LL STOP HIM HERE!”

“...or you can do that.” Mark held the bridge of his nose. “I’ve just realised, you are really very difficult.”

“A lot of people say that...” Lonnie folded her arms. “He’s coming, by the way.”

Mark stepped forwards, very aware of the large mountain of scales and spikes lumbering towards them at a rate of knots. He caught Chromon’s eyes, and pointed. “Change of plan. Lonnie will handle the dragons; you can take over against the dinosaur.”

“What am I taking over?” Chromon darted out of his current skirmish, and looked over at the Stegomon, his tail flopping to the ground with a thud. “Oh...”

“You think you can manage it?”

The dinosaur forced a smile, and took a defensive stance. “Whenever you’re r...r-ready.”

There was a yelp as the Gochmon became aware of the Stegomon rushing towards them, and flitted out of the way, with Lonnie, Grace and Vulpimon following suit. Mark and Chromon stood as the last bastion against the dinosaur, as the boy held out his hands, the familiar glow enveloping them once again.

“Chromon, Soul Accelerate!”

Lonnie watched from the sidelines as Chromon began to shimmer, echoes of his body spreading far and wide as Mark thrust his arms wide, then brought them together with a loud crack.

“Evolution Activate!”

Mere dozens of metres away, Dendromon squeaked at the rush of energy, and darted to one side. Stegomon kept going, distracted by the lights in front of it, so much so that it didn’t have time to stop before the new Digimon materialised directly in its path.

“Ceratomon!”

The newly grown dinosaur barely had time to hold his mechanical arms out and dig his heels in before Stegomon was on him. It crashed into him with a thud, the entirety of its front body lifting from the ground and its front legs kicking in the air. Mark took a few steps back, not wanting to be under either of the beasts should they fall, but he stayed at a close distance, willing his partner on.

Ceratomon raised his shoulders, and thrust his entire head forwards into the plated dinosaur’s neck, his heels driving into the earth behind him. Stegomon tilted further up, then further, his head and his tail swiping around. Then, finally, with a jet of steam from his elbows Ceratomon hooked the giant beneath the shoulders and sent it slamming into the ground, causing the earth to shake.

Mark allowed himself a little victory fist-pump, but his relief was short-lived as it was clear that Stegomon was not finished yet. It rolled over, its feet pawing against the ground and its entire shell quivering. Ceratomon stepped back, looking over his shoulder at the large portal behind him, calling to him as much as all the Digimon here. His eyes darted down towards Mark.

“Keep an eye on its movements, alright? We’ve got to try and lead it over there.”

Mark nodded, rushing to one side to get a better view, but his attention was grabbed by Stegomon, who had begun to paw the ground again in a far more aggressive manner. A low grumble sounded from its mouth, forming into what could almost be described as coherent words.

“...Guillotine...Wheel...”

In a movement far faster than should have been possible, Stegomon’s entire body seemed to collapse in on itself, leaving just a giant armoured ball with dozens of spikes sticking outwards, spinning in the ground. It spun faster, and faster, sending clods of earth and freshly-cut grass trimmings all over the train, the field, the tamers and the general surrounding area. Mark held his arm up against the worst of the shower, before yelling at his partner. “WATCH OUT!”

Stegomon rushed forwards in a second, the blades moving so fast that they hissed against the air. Ceratomon started as the great green ball bore down on him.

“Oh crap!”

He stepped sideways, swinging his arm out and striking the side of the sphere with a clang. The impact sent Stegomon careering off to one side, veering wide of the portal yet again. Ceratomon was also sent spinning, falling to one knee as he watched the wheel arc around yet again. Mark rushed up behind him, wincing at the large gash in the metal of his forearm.

“Are you alright?”

Ceratomon laughed hoarsely. “Just a s...scratch.”

“He’s coming back around.”

“Not if I get him first...”

Ceratomon stood up, and began to run, dropping from two legs to four. As he charged forwards, steam vented from his arms and the front of his body was encased with a metallic sheen, extending outwards into large blunt spikes. The Stegomon seemed to notice his approach, and the wheel spun wildly, the spines digging into the ground as it spun on its axis to face the charging beast. Ceratomon squinted. “This is gonna hurt...”

Stegomon dug in again, driving directly forwards and picking up speed, but so was Ceratomon, and he raised himself up on two legs and brought his shoulder forwards, the metallic glow now encasing his entire body.

“Silver Siege!”

The two collided with an almighty clash, sparks flying everywhere. Both were flung backwards, but Stegomon came off the worse this time around, spinning out of control and unfurling on the ground, letting off a disorientated whine. Down, but not yet out.

There was a series of whoops and cries from near the train as the three Gochmon clapped their front claws together.

“Bravo, fine brrrethren! We are witness to a true titanic battle this day!”

“Acid Arc!”

One of the three yelped as a fiery dart struck it in one wing, and the three separated, glaring down at Dendromon, who was still holding out her glowing fingers. “How rrrrude.”

The salamander raised her fingers in a provocative gesture, sticking out her tongue. “Come on then, if you think you’re so hard! We’re not done with you yet!”

Vulpimon padded forwards beside her, shrugging her shoulders. “Do you have to be so crude? It’s like fighting next to Perimon all over again.”

“Scarlet Song!”

All three dragons split up, and sung to the high heavens, but though both Digimon in front of them winced at the noise, this time they both stood standing. Behind them, Grace smiled. “So I was right; when they’re outside their songs don’t reverberate as much. It’s not as effective.”

One of the dragons seemed to realise this, and fluttered over to the two girls, giving them a glare. “You two arrrre no fun whatsoever! Witness those two magnificent beasts there! Witness their purrrrity of combat!”

Grace held out her D-SEND. “Oh, you want to see that? ‘Cause I can give you more of a fight if that’s what you really want.”

“Vulpimon, Soul Accelerate! Evolution Activate!”

In a rush of frost, the fox dived in front of the two girls as the drake hissed, veering upwards once again.

“Alopemon!”

The fox didn’t waste any time; she leapt forwards, the air freezing solid around her and spinning in a wheel of frozen death, striking the dragon on the hind legs and causing them to flap away in a chaotic fashion. Alopemon landed daintily, and repositioned herself, ice crystals forming perfect fractals around her.

Dendromon whistled, and looked over at Lonnie, her expression one of irritation. “Why can’t I do that yet?”

“We’ll get there, don’t worry.” Lonnie pointed. “Now go on; give ‘em heck for me!”

Dendromon broke into a grin, and rushed forward next to the fox, her fingers flowing with bright fire.

“Acid Arc!”

“Icicle Barrage!”

“Scarlet Song!”

Blasts of off-key music blended with the flapping of wings and the scraping of claws, with blasts of ice and fire shooting out from the centre. It was a far more effective effort than before from the partner Digimon, with none of the Gochmon able to land a significant hit, and several of them being sent flapping away with a singed wing or frozen hindquarters. They were still small, agile and ridiculously annoying, but they were finally beginning to tire.

Lonnie felt herself being nudged from the side, and she looked over at Grace, who was holding out another bundle of leather and wire.

“You’re athletic; try and use this to grab hold of one of them. We need to subdue them so we can send them back through.”

“...is this a-“

Grace nearly jumped up and down in anger, “Yes, for god’s sake, it’s a goddamn coat hanger on a belt! I did the best I could on short notice!”

Lonnie held it tight to her chest. “Awesome! I love it!”

She ran forwards before Grace could say another word, swinging the makeshift bolus round her head. As chaotic as the attack was, she was keeping an eye out above her head, waiting for one of the crooning lizards to get into range as shards of ice and darts of fire shot up into the sky. Sharp-eyed as ever, she picked her moment.

“Allez-oop!”

Holding one end of the belt, she threw the bundle of twisted wire up, directly into the path of one of the dragons. He banked out of the way, but not quite fast enough, as the crook of one wing snagged on the twisted wire and caused him to lurch to one side.

“Good grrrrracious me!”

The Gochmon twisted, but only succeeded in wrapping the wire further around his wing. He turned again, glaring down at the girl as she slowly drew him further in.

“What manner of trrrrrickery is this?”

Lonnie’s grin faltered, and she turned back towards Grace. “Er...I’ve caught one, what do I do now?”

“I’m on it. Icicle Barrage!”

A lump of cold energy shot out of nowhere as Alopemon rushed past, and in an instant the Gochmon was knocked to the ground, a covering of ice edging over his body from where the fox’s projectile had struck him. Lonnie gently reeled him in, looking down at the dragon’s dazed grin. He was all but out cold, although no worse for wear given the healthy cushion of alcohol which had spread throughout his system.

“I...I...I...will give...my all...for this great...purrrrrpose...this... rrrrevolution...”

Lonnie bent down, and stroked the back of his head. “Aw...you really are kinda cute.”

There was another thunk and a flapping of wings from close by as Grace shuffled forwards, wrestling with another one of the three as it switched to a rousing rendition of ‘please release me’. The girl reeled him in and deftly clonked him on the head, laying him next to the other one. Lonnie stuck her bottom lip out.

“You’ve definitely done this before...”

Grace shrugged as she pulled out another bundle of leather. “Never let anybody give a bunch of Patamon coke and gummy sweets. They will bite your face.”

“Heeeeathens!”

The two looked up at the final Gochmon, who was darting left and right with the chaotic agility of a fly, staying just out of reach of Alopemon’s projectiles.

“We will not be HIC silenced! We will be victorrrrrious! We shall...we shall...SING WITH ME BOYS! Scarlet Song!”

“Knock it off! Acid Arc!”

The Gochmon yelped as a few flaming darts shot up all around him, and he whirled round and glared down at Dendromon.

“Hey! No heckling! Draigfang!”

He swooped down, and Dendromon ducked as he narrowly scraped her shoulder, but she was quick as well, whirling around and grabbing him by the tail. He squirmed, flapping like crazy as he dragged her across the ground.

“I will not be imprisoned!”

“Searing Skin!”

Dendromon grinned, and her palms glowed red, instantly causing smoke to erupt from the dragon’s tail. He howled, and pulled even harder, letting off various Welsh expletives.

“OOWWWWW OW OW OW. Alright! I surrrender! I rrrreally trrrruly surrender just let me go!”

“Icicle Barrage!”

With another thunk, the dragon was struck, instantly encased in the cold. Dendromon let go, and he fell to the ground, the excitement having taken everything out of him. Alopemon landed, devolving to Vulpimon as she did so, and smiled at Dendromon. “That was well handled.”

“Hehee.”

“Alright you two, thanks for the assist.” Grace bent down and hoisted the drake up and over one shoulder, with Lonnie carrying the other two like sacks of potatoes, trying not to jostle them too much, although she could hear the mumbling. She turned towards Grace with a quizzical expression, “Is it always like this?”

“Honestly? This is a good day.” Grace gestured. “Come on; we’d better send the three musketeers back through the gate before they all wake up. I’d really hate to hear how these these guys sound with raging hangovers.”

Lonnie nodded. “Let’s go.”

The two rushed over the fields, being careful not to get too close to the two titans who were still tussling. Stegomon had managed to right itself again, and was swinging its head from side to side, occasionally stabbing forwards with its vast head spike. Ceratomon dodged one blow, and landed a shoulder barge, twisting around to better his footing. Mark stood a few metres off to one side, shouting helpful advice.

“You’re supposed to be getting him into the portal!”

“What d-do you think I’m trying to do?”

Stegomon grumbled, and swung its entire body sideways, its spiked tail travelling in a wide arc and cracking into Ceratomon’s side. The steel behemoth stepped back, before retaliating in kind, spinning his own mace round and taking out one of the Stegomon’s legs. Ceratomon readjusted himself, his right elbow expanding as he reared back for another attack.

“Piston Punch!”

His attack struck true, catching Stegomon right in the centre of the throat and causing it to collapse again.

Grace and Lonnie witnessed the spectacle as they arrived at the gate, their disgruntled drakes in tow. Grace looked up at Alopemon and pointed. “Go and give those two a hand. We need to finish this off.”

Lonnie gently laid her two charges on the ground as the fox ran off to assist, her eyes slightly woozy from being so close to the gateway.

“So...how exactly does this work?”

Grace seemed too out of breath to properly respond, so she didn’t, instead taking the dragon by the tail and throwing him upwards towards the open gate. The vortex shifted as the dragon struck it, swallowing him up in an instant. There was a muffled drunk nuuuuu from the other two, both of whom were only semi-conscious. Lonnie smiled apologetically, before hoisting them up both by the tails.

“Sorry about this. Come back again when you’re a bit more well-behaved, alright?”

Grace shot her a look. “Don’t give them ideas!”

The taller girl shrugged, spun, and threw the dragons like an Olympic hammer, where they disappeared just after their friend. Lonnie scratched behind her head. “They will be okay, right?”

“It’s only the digital world. It’s a bit tricky in places but they’re built for that sort of thing.”

“And what about the gate? Won’t they come back through?” Lonnie tilted her head. “Actually...it looks like it’s gone a bit fuzzy.”

“I don’t know exactly how it works, but disturbances make it unstable. The dragons are small so they’ve just made it a bit wobbly, but hopefully once we get Stegomon back through it should make it close up.”

Lonnie still seemed somewhat confused, so Grace left her for the time being, getting slightly closer to the far larger problem as she called out. “How are we doing with the dinosaur?”

Ceratomon reached beneath the Stegomon’s bulk and pushed upwards, forcing the dinosaur towards the swirling vortex. “Working...on...it... crap!”

He stumbled as the Stegomon growled, and swung again, pushing Ceratomon back and preparing to run.

“Icicle Barrage!”

A volley of frozen spikes struck the Stegomon on the side of the head, causing it to withdraw, snorting and shaking its head. Ceratomon reared back and rushed forwards again, tackling the dinosaur full on as they edged ever closer to the spiralling gate. Stegomon could clearly feel the effects, and shivered, its spines trembling and its efforts becoming more frantic.

“You...have to...go...home...”

Ceratomon let go a little, the metallic sheen returning as he backed up for one last push.

“Silver...Siege!”

His bulk struck Stegomon, and the dinosaur was swallowed up by the whirling dervish. There was the sound of a thousand whistles, and both Alopemon and Ceratomon backed away, feeling the influence from the digital world beyond. The gate pulsed, warped, and distorted, before finally closing in on itself, leaving just a faint trail of mist on the ground.

For a few moments, nobody said a word, just staring out across the field. Finally, Lonnie broke the silence as she fell to her knees. “That...was awesome.”

Mark gave her a look from behind his hood, which she responded to with a giggle. “Come on. You have to admit. That was awesome. You have a heck of a cool partner.”

A couple of flashes from nearby signalled Ceratomon returning to his Rookie form, looking more than a little dazed from the ordeal. Chromon looked up in a hopeful manner at his partner, who remained as reserved as always.

“...that I do. But that was not awesome. That was horrible. Why did I decide to get involved in this again?”

Grace walked by him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Safety of mankind and the chance to do good in this world?”

“I never volunteered to do that.”

“None of us ever do.” Grace sighed, and looked over at the train in the distance, too far away to make out any details. “I’m...gonna go out on a limb and say that the train’s going to be delayed for a while.” She looked up at Alopemon beside her, who sniffed, pointing her nose away.

“I can’t give all of you a lift...”

Grace sighed, before planting her fist in her hand.

“Alright then, we’re only a few miles away anyway. Who’s up for a nice mid-morning walk?”

It was a fairly uneventful trek, especially compared to the excitement of the morning. The three found a trail off the beaten path, and after removing their disguises (with Mark still acting less than impressed at the whole concept), they took it slowly and steadily off towards the town, with Lonnie providing much discussion in an attempt to get the travesty of the train rescue off all their minds. The Digimon held back a little bit, with Vulpimon and Chromon showing Dendromon the art of shimmering.

It was a long walk, and as they got further and further to the edge of the town, Lonnie noted the three Digimon dropping back further and further, managing to hide effectively in the side-paths, nooks and crannies just outside of their vision. She occasionally lost track of them all entirely, and resorted to checking her D-SEND to check that they were still nearby.

Not that she really felt she needed to. She may have only known Dendromon for a few days, but she could definitely feel her presence, trotting silently beside them. Even as they began to pass other people, and hear the mutters of ‘more creatures’ and ‘bloody rail service’ and ‘how the hell am I supposed to get to Titchlington now’, Lonnie herself remained acutely aware of their own mystery creatures, following not too far behind, at a safe distance.

Although with a grim realisation she noted to herself; if she was able to sense them, then so could other people. Others with less than...compassionate outlooks.

So it was that the three motley tamers found themselves entering the front gate of Number 43 Oakley Avenue, each of them followed by a slight rush of air and an even slighter disturbance in the light. There was a rustling of curtains as somebody saw them from inside, and the door opened before they even reached it. A young woman stepped out; tanned skin, red hair and bright, if slightly tired blue eyes. She raised an eyebrow.

“You took a little while.”

Her eyes darted downwards, and she opened the door a little wider, allowing the three Digimon to get out of the open.

“Thanks for the sympathy, Jazz,” said Grace drily, audibly irked by the young woman’s sarcastic tone.

Jasmine merely shrugged. “Not really a problem with me. Though a certain someone wants a word with you all.”

At the sight of the three very glum expressions, she softened, scratching her frizzy mess of a hairstyle. “Come in already. I’d offer you all a brandy but I’m theoretically a responsible adult, so it’ll have to be tea or coffee.”

The three thanked her as they walked inside, shutting the door behind them. The house was a cosy one; possibly a bit small for so many people, but nothing too uncomfortable. Grace heard the sound of voices from the living room, and held her breath as she walked through. Mark and Lonnie shared a look.

“Ah boy...”

The two followed suit, joining the others in the room. Alasdair sat at the far end, holding a cup of coffee in both hands and staring at the TV screen

In the near chair sat a young man, wearing jeans and an old shirt over his husky form. He leant forwards, stroking Vulpimon behind the ears like the two were old friends, with Chromon and Dendromon nuzzling up against him as well. He gave a long breath, and leant back in the chair, his mop of sandy hair falling over his shoulders.

“Grace. Nice to see you. Nice to meet all of you, actually.”

Mark shuffled awkwardly. “And you. You must be Aaron.”

Aaron chuckled, and called over into the other room. “Hey Jazz, I told you I was famous.”

“Infamous, more like.”

The boy stuck his tongue out, and laughed, his eyes shining brightly despite a slight grey tinge amongst the blue. He clasped his hands together. “You guys look like you’ve been through a ride.”

The three shuffled awkwardly, with Grace taking the stand. “We...had a situation.”

“I daresay you did.”

Grace winced, and turned towards Alasdair, who had muted the television and was now sat back, his arms folded as he looked at each of them in turn. Lonnie leant forwards, trying to grab a glimpse of the TV screen, and the local news report going on about a train which had been suddenly and mysteriously barged about by a series of unknown and unseen forces. She gave a nervous laugh.

“Well...at least the TV people didn’t actually catch any Digimon at the scene...”

Alasdair snorted, and held out his phone. “Oh don’t worry about that; I think you’ll go viral just fine.”

“...Oh yeah...the passengers...” Lonnie held a finger against her lips. “Whoops.”

Aaron stood upwards, and pointed towards the kitchen. “I’ll give you guys a moment. Tea? Coffee? A selection?”

The three muttered their preferences, and Aaron slowly left the room, whistling ever so nonchalantly. Lonnie knelt down, looking at the smaller screen as Alasdair showed them one of their fellow passengers’ contributions. It was overall fairly legible, clearly showing them in disguise as they rushed back and forth and things blew up all around. With one clear exception.

“I...can’t see any Digimon.”

It was true. There were definitely little darts of fire and great footsteps appearing, but where the Digimon should have been was just a large mess of vaguely monster-shaped pixels, occasionally disappearing and reappearing, and even screwing up bits and pieces of the film. On top of that the fog seemed to be thicker in the movie, covering the whole battlefield in an almost underwater haze.

The video finished, and Alasdair leant back. “Digimon don’t show up on film, or in digital pictures or the like. It’s a quirk of their makeup. Handy when we’re trying to keep things slightly under the radar.”

Lonnie stood up. “So we’re alright then...right? I mean it’s not like anybody can prove they saw anything-“

“Ahem.” Mark cleared his throat, and glanced to the side. “Except for the three idiots in cosplay dancing around in between all the explosions.”

“...good point...”

Alasdair folded his arms. “He’s right. That was messy. I realise it was unexpected but you’ll need to be prepared for things like this. You can’t just run around like nobody else can see you; there are going to be people watching these who know what they’re looking for.” He looked towards Mark. “And you can’t just stand around waiting for somebody else to make a move either. You were very slow to get going.”

The boy sniffed, and looked away. Grace stood in the middle, holding her hands in front of her. Lonnie was a little more vocal about the whole thing.

“We were doing our best, Ali! The Stegomon was, like...right in the wrong place, we had to get it moving-”

“Lonnie, what if it had rolled into the train at full speed?”

Lonnie stopped mid-argument, feeling the old man’s stare. She closed her mouth, and pulled her cheeks in.

“I’m sorry. I got...carried away.”

Alasdair placed his hands on his knees. “Sometimes there are people about. If you’re going to fight, then you need to bear them in mind. This isn’t the digital world; our world isn’t used to this. Things can go wrong. And they have.”

The silence hung in the room awkwardly. Further back, the three Digimon looked at one another, unsure what to say.

Alasdair sighed, and leant back in his chair. “I know it’s harsh of me. I’ll be fair, it was yours and Mark’s first proper fight like this, and I don’t think any of you have done anything like this before. And you managed to get through it with no people or Digimon getting hurt. If nothing else, the results were good.”

Lonnie swayed back and forth on her tiptoes. “I won’t do it again, sir. Scouts honour.”

Alasdair gave a gentle smile. “Now now, we all know it could have been worse.” The man shuffled himself around, grabbing his empty coffee cup and staring into the base. “But it could also have been a whole lot better.”

“Oh come on, let up on her.” Grace pressed her lips out. “You’re always a bit harsh when you’re mad.”

“Sorry about that. Really. Old habits...”

The heavy atmosphere was broken by Aaron and Jasmine stuck their heads around the corner. “When you’re finished with today’s life lesson, we’ve got drinks for everyone.”

Dendromon perked up in an instant. “And biscuits?”

Aaron winked. “Of course. We’re not barbarians.”

After a brief catch up, Alasdair went out the back to take an important call (a convenient contact at the rail office, or so he told them). The others hung around, with Grace and Jasmine heading off to discuss important private affairs, and Lonnie and the Digimon going for an explore. Mark and Aaron were left in the kitchen, with Aaron dragging a chair in to rest his feet.

“So how are you finding the partner life so far?”

Mark took a sip of tea, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s...life.”

Aaron laughed. “Don’t worry; you can be honest.”

“Honestly? I don’t know how I feel.” Mark placed his mug down, and leaned on the sideboard, staring out the window. “I caught glimpses here and there, but Kent never told me about half of it all. And to be fair, I never asked either. I don’t really know; maybe I wanted to be part of it, even though every bit of my brain is yelling no at me.”

He smiled, and shook his head. “Besides, it’s not as if I had a choice.”

“Right...”

Mark looked back, noting the older boy’s expression. Mark tried not to look conspicuous, but he did find his gaze travelling towards the boy’s neck, and a faint, red cross-hatch that seemed to spread out from beneath his shirt. Aaron caught his eye, and pulled his collar up.

Mark coughed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Aaron’s mouth twitched a little. “Did Kent ever tell you what happened to me?”

Mark didn’t say anything. But he raised a hand, holding his finger and thumb close together. A little. Aaron sighed, leaning his head on his hand. “Well, the good news is that it won’t kill me unless I poke it really hard.”

“That’s good news?”

“I take it as good news. It’s better than being a pessimist.” Aaron’s eyes fell. “Though it does mean that I can’t do what you guys do. I did try, the first year or so, but it’s too much strain on my heart so...not anymore.” He shrugged. “Well...maybe a little. Probably. But I’ve done my part and all I got was this lousy permanent T-shirt. And one of my closest friends.”

“Are you...”

Aaron blinked, while Mark looked away. “Go on?”

“Are you...okay with that? Do you miss it?”

Aaron rested his chin on his hand, staring at the wall.

“It’s a bit like you, really. I’m not really sure. Sure, it was cool and all, but then again...constant death and destruction and you know what, there are times where I really can’t handle that.”

“Preach it.”

Aaron laughed, his voice wavering a little.

“Anyway...well...it’s like you said. It’s not as if I had a choice.”

Chromon tiptoed across the hallway, looking all around. He was aware he was doing his usual trick of trying to mentally note down absolutely everything at once, but he didn’t mind so much. The day was over, the day was saved, and he found it relaxing.

His tail swung just the faintest amount, knocking against a doorframe. Hurriedly he pulled back, checking the paint for marks.

“They don’t make them like they do in the digital world, do they?”

Chromon held his breath. He knew that voice.

Slowly he turned, smiling over his shoulder. “I never thought you’d be one to s-settle in a place like this, Velocimon.”

The yellow raptor smirked, as he leant against the doorframe with his arms folded. He wore gauntlets of green armour, and his tail flicked up and down over the ground, sporting a bloom of blue feathers.

Velocimon nodded. “I could say the same for you. Weren’t you busy being a watcher or something?”

Chromon felt a strange feeling in his belly, but he turned around, sitting down on the rug. “N-not anymore. That was the old world. The watchers are no longer needed.”

Velocimon whistled. “How is the world? Hopefully you haven’t broken anything yet.”

“The world’s...still t-t-there.” Chromon tilted his head. “B-b-buuuut...well...here I am. I was called.”

“Once more unto the breach.” The raptor raised an eyebrow. “I wonder why you were called again?”

Chromon shrugged. “Dashing good looks? A sense of r...responsibility? A tendency to poke my nose in?” He laughed. “Or maybe Yggdrasil just has a p...perfectionist streak. I never did get to join you guys the first time. Not fully.”

He gave a half-smile, very aware of Velocimon staring down at him. But the raptor simply shrugged, and walked past him, placing a hand on his armoured shoulder.

“It’s great to see you again, old friend. Welcome to the club.”

“Knock knock?”

Dendromon started, dropping the executive toy she was holding and kicking it under the study desk. She placed her hands behind her back, looking up at Lonnie who was curled around the doorframe.

“Why are you knocking? It’s not my house.”

“I...uh…force of habit.”

The girl shuffled forwards, holding one hand behind her back. Dendromon’s crest flicked as she crouched down, her face oddly calm for once.

“I...didn’t...get a chance to say this earlier but...I’m sorry.”

Dendromon blinked. “For what?”

Lonnie raised a hand and began counting off, “You know, for kidnapping you and throwing you in a toilet and stuffing you in a bag and for my family and for me and for throwing you off a train and for getting you chased by a dinosaur and...” She frowned, going over the list again. “I’ve probably forgotten something.”

Dendromon gave a gasp of mock offense, and folded her arms. “Well then, I daresay you do owe me an apology.”

Lonnie grinned, and held out a chocolate bar, causing the salamander’s eyes to light up.

“Apology accepted!”

She grabbed it and wolfed it down in an instant, as Lonnie sat back. “I know I can be...well...a massive pain, so I thought I’d do something nice. You know, as a thank you.”

Dendromon paused with one finger in her mouth, and swallowed, her teeth still full of chocolate and nougat.

“For what?”

“For coming into my life.” The girl cupped her knees, her eyes lighting up. “We’re gonna do great things; I can feel it.”

Dendromon snickered, and shuffled forwards, letting Lonnie run her fingers over her back crest. “We might wanna actually get the evolution right next time, then.”

“Yeah, I...don’t know exactly what happened there.” Lonnie clicked her fingers, and stood up. “That’s the other thing; Ali’s back. He wanted to speak with us.”

The two headed downstairs, joining the others in the living room. Alasdair had returned, and was holding Mark’s D-SEND in one hand, scrolling through it as everybody watched. Lonnie nuzzled her way into the group, apologising to a very squashed Chromon, in an attempt to get a better look.

Alasdair sat back, and passed the device back to Mark. “I have to agree with you; it is a little bit of a coincidence.”

Aaron fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a device of his own. “I did have a feeling something like this was going to happen back when Grace and Jack’s D-Nexuses changed.”

“Changed?”

Aaron held out the digivice in his hand; a far smaller contraption with a square screen and a little jagged antenna. “We all had these digivices four years ago. The digital world gave them to us.”

Grace show hers again, “But Jack’s and mine changed into this form about a year ago. Only ours though; the others stayed the same.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Any idea why?”

Grace folded her arms. “We didn’t really think about it at the time, but it was about then that we started getting more and more active incursions, if that has anything to with it.”

Alasdair leant forwards. “I’m sure it does. I don’t know the ins and outs, but I am aware that the digital world provides new models of digivice for each group of new tamers, depending on the circumstances.” His eyes rolled upwards. “I have seen some interesting ones...”

Grace held hers tightly. “But why are we only getting these now?”

“I don’t know.” Alasdair clasped his hands. “But for whatever reason, it looks like the digital world has decided to call a new group of tamers. Something’s happening; whether in their world...or ours.”

Lonnie bit her lip. “So what are we supposed to do, Uncle Ali?”

“I don’t know that either.” The old man smiled. “Do good. Save people and Digimon alike. Try not to knock over any more public transport.”

Alasdair reached forwards, and Mark passed his own device back. Alasdair gently clicked the wheel around, bringing up the local map. There they all were; a cluster of bright lights in the centre of the screen.

“And I have a sneaking suspicion...”

The man opened out his fingers, expanding the map view as it hovered above the domed screen. He repeated it again, and pulled it around, before twisting it around to show them.

“...you might not be the only ones who’ve been called.”

Lonnie, Grace, Mark and the Digimon all stared at the centre of the map; at the little cluster of dots where they all sat.

Then downwards, towards their home town, and two faint glowing auras at the edge of the screen. Two more signals. Two more digivices.

Alasdair leant back, smiling a little as he folded his arms.

“How do you feel about getting the whole gang together?”

Lines flickered on the television as a tired newscaster yet again recounted the miraculous adventures in public transport, now with added phone footage from excited punters. The young man on the bed stared forwards with an unimpressed expression.

“Bunch of maniacs...”

There was a vibration next to him, and his hand fell over a D-SEND; black and grey, with a green grid pattern over it. He scrolled through, and brought up the map. A digital signature. A few streets away.

The boy swung his legs up, then arced off the end of the bed, landing with a bang. There was a grumble from the next room over at him to shut up, but he paid it no heed, reaching for the jacket that lay draped over his chair.

“Alright Simeamon, let’s go do it professionally, shall we?”

There was a clatter on the window-sill outside. Followed by the unmistakeable sound of a laser being charged up.