“BZ Blitzer!”

Pellets strafed the ground, the gas billowing forth from them as Mark backed away, raising one foot. He stumbled backwards, trying to keep out of the way of Hoatzimon’s gaze as she flapped to one side.

With a commando’s precision she clutched onto the side of the building, her muscular chest heaving behind a padded jacket and baggy khakis. Her wings were ragged, only capable of short bursts of flight, but she made up for it with muscular scaled arms and legs tipped with sharp talons. She wore a gas-mask over her beak, and her goggles steamed up from her own breath as her yellow head-crest flicked back and forth.

She hissed, balancing on the building with hooked talons as she raised her gloved hands, flicking out the empty gas cartridges as she prepared to reload.

“Not so fast!”

There was a rumble as Ceratomon charged forwards, swinging his head to one side. Hoatzimon paused, and leapt again, countering the dinosaur’s charge with a savage kick. The bird was sent fluttering back, but the kick was still hard enough to leave a dent in Ceratomon’s armour.

“You really think you can turn the tide of this? How pathetic.”

“Piston Punch!”

Ceratomon swung forwards with a high-powered punch, causing Hoatzimon to dodge out of the way. She smirked, but her mirth was cut short as Ceratomon’s other arm came forwards, catching her in the chest. Her padded vest turned it into a glancing blow, but she was still winded, watching helplessly as the dinosaur approached her.

“Hehe...really...aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Ceratomon, to your left!”

The dinosaur made a half turn before the other assailant fluttered up; a Butterflymon with golden armour and carrying, of all things, a flamethrower. He clicked, and fired at will, the flames engulfing Ceratomon’s upper body.

“Burn. Burn like the heretic you are.”

Mark tried to get closer, but the heat was licking out towards him and he was forced to hide behind a building. “Ceratomon...get back...”

The dinosaur hissed as the flames heated up his armour plating, causing his rough skin to crackle where they made contact. He tried to call up a protective shield, but it only made things worse, and his mechanical arms were beginning to tremble from the heat.

Butterflymon merely remained in place, floating perfectly still as he continued the barrage, until a hand grabbed him by one foot.

“Searing...Skin!”

Instantly Dendromon’s hands glowed, causing the heat to travel up Butterflymon’s legs. The bug screeched and fumbled his grip on the flamethrower, causing the light to extinguish. He kicked wildly, managing to dislodge Dendromon, but not before she’d melted a good portion of his left foot armour. She grinned as she stared up from the rubbish bin she’d landed in.

“Not so nice when you’re on the receiving end, is it?”

Butterflymon buzzed in a determined fashion, and he swung round, pointing the weapon down at her.

“Tell me what it feels like, traitor-“

“Get away from her!”

Ceratomon spun his body round, his morning-star tail swinging through the air and striking Butterflymon in the hip. The assailant gasped, dropping the weapon in an instant, where it smashed on the ground. Butterflymon himself went spinning through the air, where he was caught by Hoatzimon, just about managing to stay airborne.

“You...lower beings!”

Hoatzimon glared as Ceratomon raised his steaming fists again, with Dendromon whooping and cheering him on from her position in the bin. The bird-woman glanced down at the bruised Butterflymon, then back up at her opponent. Hissing, she reached behind her back, pulling out a series of small capsules.

“This isn’t over...”

Ceratomon charged forwards, but Hoatzimon dropped the capsules, where they exploded in a great rush of opaque gas, stopping the dinosaur in his tracks. When it dissipated, the two Digimon had vanished.

Dendromon folded her arms, letting out a raspberry. “I can’t believe this. Cowards.”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” said Lonnie, as she hoisted her partner out of the bin by the shoulders. “That was a little bit of a hairy one, huh, Mark?”

“Mm-hmm.”

The girl frowned, and walked over to where Mark was standing, staring down at the remains of Butterflymon’s flamethrower. She clicked through her teeth, and pulled out her D-SEND, scrolling through it until she found the Digimon’s information.

“I’ll admit, it doesn’t look like standard artillery for a giant golden bug. No mention of it in the encyclopaedia, either.”

“I’d be inclined to agree. If anything, it looks more like something a human soldier would carry. If a little bit modified.” Mark placed a hand in his pocket, and looked up at his partner. “I don’t like this. Not one bit.”

Ceratomon groaned, reaching down and pressing his mechanical palm up against the final smouldering patches on his body, extinguishing them completely.

“Trust me, n-n-neither do I.”

Alasdair held one shoulder, watching and nodding as Mark showed him the pictures of the shattered weaponry. Finally he sighed, and looked up at the young man, his eyes showing an intense weariness.

“I’d like to offer something more concrete, but honestly there’s nothing really I can do here.”

“Don’t you see?” said Mark, pocketing his phone. “It’s not just this time; there was Yethmon’s gang as well. They found a stockpile of human armaments in their hideout, alongside all the gadgets they were taking from the shopping centre.”

“Digimon are opportunistic, Mark. This is actually quite a nice place for them in that regard.”

“Opportunistic enough to steal police or military grade weaponry?” Mark shook his head. “Please tell me you’ve seen the news. There’ve been an awful lot of these kind of things going missing and nobody seems to be talking about it.”

Alasdair held the bridge of his nose. “Nobody’s talking about it because I’m trying very hard to make sure nobody does. Digimon are one thing, but sudden stockpiles of weapons disappearing is a very real thing that people will panic about. That’s the last thing you need to be dealing with.”

Mark exhaled, and leant back against the table. “Is there anything you know?”

“About who’s taking them? No.”

“Then why don’t we stake out and find out who it-“

“Mark!”

The old man’s voice took on a harsh tone, stopping Mark in his tracks. Alasdair wheeled himself back, and clasped his hands in front of him.

“You’re not soldiers, or covert ops or anything like that. The moment I send you to start chasing down military installations and high-security places is the moment when you get put in a lot more danger and get stuck under a lot more scrutiny, and frankly that’s the last thing you need. You might be alright with it but do you really want to put the others in that danger?”

Mark’s fingers tensed on table in front of him, and he shook his head. Chromon peered up at him from the side of the room, his face grave. Alasdair sighed, and his expression softened slightly.

“I’m doing what I can. Trust me; it makes it difficult for me as well, but I do have my own resources.”

Mark looked up. “Can I at least do something to help?”

“How long have you been awake?”

The young man scratched his cheek, his mouth twitching. “I...um...didn’t sleep much last night. It was a late shift. And the night before.”

“That’s fine. In that case you can help by going and resting.”

“But-“

Alasdair raised a hand. “Trust me, if you’re pushing your body to its limits this often you’re only going to cause yourself harm. Go on, do something low-maintenance with the others. Please.”

Mark’s eyelids sagged, and he snorted. “I hate it when other people are right all the time.”

Alasdair winked at him. “Be thankful for it. At least it gives you a break.”

Mark looked at Chromon, and they both headed for the door. The boy turned round in the doorway, smiling at Alasdair. “Please do let us know if you find anything...useful. Will you?”

The man beamed at him. “Always have, always will. Now shoo. Go and enjoy your youth.”

“So how’d it go?”

Mark huffed, and kicked at the ground as the other five stood gathered around him. “Could have gone slightly more smoothly, to be honest. Apparently doing a stakeout on military installations is ‘too dangerous’ or something.”

Lonnie and Grace looked at one another, before the former raised a hand. “I mean...he’s not wrong, and frankly I’m surprised that you’re the one who suggested it and not me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, ha ha, so funny.” Mark twiddled his finger through his ponytail. “I guess it’s just frustrating. I feel really powerless, especially since nobody we’re fighting actually seems to be following the same rules we are. I don’t want to get left behind.”

There was an air of tacit agreement that rippled through the group. They had all had their own skirmishes with Digimon and Digimon hunters alike over the past few weeks, and each new encounter just seemed to be going out of its way to annoy them more than anything else.

The silence was broken by Lonnie spontaneously giving a yawn so loud that it made Grace jump next to her. The girl placed a hand over her mouth, and laughed sheepishly.

“Er...sorry. I’ve really been missing my sleep.”

Mark raised his eyebrow. “How many hours are you on?”

“...five? By which I mean four and a bit?”

“Well, I’m on five and a half so at least I’ll be able to catch you when you nod off mid-battle.”

“Amateurs.” There was a snort from Owen as he waved his hand dismissively, before thrusting a thumb into his own chest as he brandished his own achievement. “Two hours fifteen for three days straight, and still standing.”

Inez removed her glasses and clutched the bridge of her nose. “Oh dear lord, what is wrong with you people?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Inez glanced up, and her gaze was weary. “Aren’t we supposed to be doing our best? What are you all doing bragging about ruining your bodies?”

Mark folded his arms. “I’m sorry, with all this chaos going on with Digimon emerging in our world and idiots in leather pants trying to taser them and now Digimon picking up goddamn flamethrowers I kind of forgot about the whole ‘self-care and wellness’ thing.” He raised his fingers in air-quotes, before looking away. “We need to keep going. We’re going to be overwhelmed if we don’t.”

“We’re going to be overwhelmed if we keep taking on more stuff.” Inez raised a palm, an exasperated look on her face. “You told us what Ali said; the whole stolen weaponry issue isn’t our job. We’re just going to cause more trouble if we get involved.”

“So what do you suggest? Hold hands and pray?”

He glared at Inez, causing her to flinch, holding her sleeve. The young man grunted to himself, before backing off. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“...it’s alright...”

“No, it’s not. I’m out of line.” The young man sighed, very well aware that everybody’s eyes were on him. “What do we do then?”

“I was about to say...well...at the very least can’t we get to know each other better? The only time we ever join up is to try and stop another incursion.” The girl shuffled awkwardly, not meeting anybody’s eyes. “Can’t we do something for us for a change?”

Grace blew into her hands, suddenly aware of the cold. “It might be an idea. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Possibly. But I’d need to check.” Inez smiled sheepishly, looking among everyone. “I wanna get to know you guys, that’s all.”

“Getting to know the real us?” Owen took in a breath through the side of his mouth. “That’s potentially even more dangerous...”

“Oi, I’m trying to do something sweet and heartwarming here; give me some leeway.”

Inez laughed to herself, before sniffing, looking up at the grey sky. “At any rate, we might need to carry on with this later. It is stupidly cold.”

“Agreed.”

The group began to depart, but not before Inez whistled at Mark, Lonnie and Owen, pointing at each of them accusingly.

“Get some sleep, goddamnit!”

The next few days were uncharacteristically quiet in terms of Digimon incidents, though the general feeling of unease remained as the days slowly got colder. So it came as quite a surprise when, after three days of near radio silence, everyone in the group suddenly got a group message from Inez.

“Live music night at the Glitterbomb Pigeon?”

Grace kicked back and forth in the air as she held the phone in front of her, tilting her head. “Wow, geez, this is...quite an upmarket place.”

A couple of dots bounced up and down next to Inez’s avatar, before she replied. “It’s just close by to me. Actually my parents gave me a young membership so I can probably get you all drinks discounts.”

There was the bouncing of several icons at this comment, but Lonnie got there first.

“0_0 What is your life!?!?”

Inez posted a bashful emoji in return, while Grace whistled and glanced across at her brother, who was swinging around on her desk chair. “Some people have all the luck.”

There was a creaking as one of their whippets nudged her way inside the room, sitting next to Jack and demanding cuddles, which he happily obliged. “That’s right, Skye, you know exactly what you’re after, dontcha.”

Grace smiled, but there was a pwa-plink from her phone as Inez posted again.

“They have random groups every Thursday; tends to be more indie/grungy/weird stuff but it’s fairly popular and they don’t serve alcohol till 8 so under-18s are fine. I don’t know; I just thought some of you might be interested and it might be good for us.”

There were a series of loading icons from most people, but nobody came up with an answer. Eventually Inez replied to her own comment.

"It’s just a thought. I’ll be outside at around quarter to 5 tomorrow if anyone’s up for it. ^_^”

Grace kept an eye on the chat, but nobody else replied to Inez, with the exception of Lonnie posting a heart, two dolphins and an avocado (which Grace took to mean yes). She sighed, and rolled over onto her back, placing her hands behind her head and staring up at the ceiling. Skye padded over towards her, nuzzling her elbow, with the other whippet Ember just behind, having found where her partner in crime was hiding.

“I guess it’s an evening out if nothing else.” She turned towards Jack, who was poking at his own phone. “What do you think?”

The boy scratched behind his neck, looking a little awkward. “I don’t know; you’re all a bit older than me.”

“We don’t mind. You’re one of us.”

“Oh sure, for like...fighting dinosaurs and stuff. But a club? I think I’d be a bit out of place.”

Grace pouted, twisting onto her side. “I wouldn’t want you to feel left out...”

“Nah, it’s fine. Promise.” Jack’s cheeks flushed a little, and he looked aside. “Besides...”

Grace blinked, and righted herself, her expression growing more than a little confused. “Besides...what?”

“Well, I mean...if it’s a night out then I thought...maybe you’d want to take your...boyfriend...”

Grace took in a sharp intake of breath, her face going a deep crimson. “I-I-I mean...wait, we...he’s not...haven’t done...anything...”

Jack blinked, going even redder himself as he grinned nervously.

“Haven’t done what?”

Grace’s vocal chords turned to pudding, so she resorted to grabbing a pillow and throwing it at her brother’s face, much to the excitement of the two dogs. Jack held up his hands, and fell about laughing, as Grace held the other pillow close to her chest, her gaze flitting all over the place.

“We’re just seeing each other. Just to see what it’s like. I mean I am, I don’t know what he’s...” She trailed off, and buried her face in her pillow, letting out a groan. Jack laughed under his breath, when there was a muffled call from his father downstairs.

“Jack, can you take the dogs out, please?”

“Sure thing,” replied Jack, as he pushed himself up. He smiled at Grace, who was still stuck in her blue-screen state. “I’ll let you think about it, if that’s cool. Ember, Skye, come on, walk time!”

There was a frenzied scrabbling as the boy opened the door and the two whippets shot out, nearly falling over one another as they headed down the stairs. Jack shut the door, leaving Grace alone in her bedroom. After a minute she raised her head, staring over the top of the pillow and sighing.

“God, I suck at this game...”

Her gaze flicked down to her phone, and after a moment she reached out towards it, tapping through her contacts. Eventually she ditched the pillow, and began to type.

“So, Nicholas, you’re not into live music at all, are you?”

The Glitterbomb Pigeon, name notwithstanding, was quite unassuming and even rather preppy from the outside, save for a large sparkly sign that hung above the door featuring a bird in sunglasses holding a saxophone. A sign which, to be frank, all classy establishments should have anyway.

The club was already beginning to fill up, with everyone from work parties to college kids to even a couple of young families. Inez shuffled outside, feeling a lot more awkward than on other nights she’d come here with friends from her own college. The night itself was deceptively warm for the time of year, causing a lot of the people around her to be more restless than usual, which didn’t help.

“Inez! Yoo-hoo!”

The girl’s eyes lit up as she turned to see Lonnie walking towards her, wearing a bold shoulderless crop-top and flared trousers combination. The girl waved maniacally, before looking all around her. “I guess it is fairly popular.”

“Yup!” Inez held her shoulder, looking behind her. “Thanks for coming. I’m guessing...it’s just you?”

Lonnie pouted, folding her arms. “Mark said it wasn’t his thing, and Owen didn’t respond because he’s boring and actually they’re both boring. Grace said she’d be here though.”

“Really?” Inez tilted to one side, and her eyes perked up. “Speak of the devil.”

Lonnie whirled round, waving wildly. “Grace, you made it-“

She stopped mid-wave, suddenly going over a little coy as Grace walked up to them, her hand clasped around her companion’s. The girl blushed a little, and pulled a tuft of hair away from her ear. “Hi everyone...this is Nicholas. I...well...is it alright if he comes?”

Nicholas himself seemed even less at ease with the situation than Grace was, but he was quickly dragged in by Lonnie grabbing him by the hand and pumping it wildly. “It’s a pleasure to have you! The more the merrier! I’m Lonnie, by the way. Don’t be scared.”

Nicholas watched as the girl’s plaits bounced up and down, before smiling awkwardly. “Thanks for the...tip.”

Grace chuckled under her breath, before turning to Inez. “Sorry it’s not the full house.”

The other girl waved her palm down, “Don’t give it another thought. I’m just happy to be working with some people who enjoy fun.” She stepped back, and gestured dramatically at the door.

“On with the show, my friends?”

Glitterbomb Pigeon’s Weekly Open Stage Night was nothing if not an...immersive experience. It’s easy to see why it became so popular among new and upcoming groups; cheap and fairly decent stage with the promise of a free soft drink at the end of the set, plus you actually got to go inside the locally famous venue, which itself promised an air of mystery and acclaim that many start-up college bands would get down on their knees for.

And due to their open stage policy and the evident lack of much musical discernment amongst the stage managers, for the punter the Open Stage Night frequently ended up being a disjointed, unfocused and utterly entertaining eclectic mess of poor hopeful upstart groups with nothing but soul in their veins and a complete lack of musical knowledge to light their way.

Hardly The Proms, but sincere and beautiful in its own way.

Tonight was certainly no exception, with Donkey, Clive and Question Mark giving a loud, atonal and deeply philosophical performance, followed with a set by Unexplained Head Injuries, which everybody agreed was likely to be the best performance of the night (mainly due to a guest bassist subbing in after the regular had fallen into a pond, but you take what you can get)

For the uninitiated it was still a difficult atmosphere to get into, but by the time Lonnie had heard Mõïst Ümláüt provide their rousing and unforgettable rendition of their classic hit ‘ I Won A Dinosaur Keychain At Harbour Park’, she had been won over and was happily jiving with a raspberry and bubblegum mocktail in one hand, standing next to a highly sugared-up Inez, who had for some reason gone over all technical and was trying to explain the underlying themes behind the dinosaur keychain in amongst the sporadic ‘ oooooouuuuuuurrrrrrrgh’s coming from the stage.

Eventually Inez ran out of breath, and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “It’s a different show every time. Really is. Just makes you...think, you know? Appreciate every new beauty.”

“Amen to that.”

Inez scowled, and took a sip of her own drink. “What’s wrong with the boys anyway? Why do they have to be so broody and serious? Honestly, what a let-down.”

Lonnie tilted to one side, and stuck her lips out. “Oh I don’t know...perhaps there’s hope for some of them after all.”

Inez looked confused, so Lonnie pointed with her little finger. The girls looked through the club. Then back at one another. Their eyes narrowed and their mouths simultaneously curled upwards into dastardly grins as they began to shuffle forwards in unison, not a word passing between them. Eventually they reached their target, and plonked their hands on the shoulders of the man standing before them. Inez leaned in, whispering devilishly.

“Well well well, looks like somebody’s having fun...”

Owen stopped mid-sentence, his entire body freezing. He shivered, staring into the middle distance as his drink tilted forwards.

“Gremlins. My entire life has been overrun with gremlins...”

Lonnie spun around, and clasped her hands in front of her, her face taking on an excessively cutesy expression. “So Owen...who’ve ya come to listen to?”

Owen’s eyes darted right, and he pointed towards where Kevin was returning with a second drink and a glowstick in his pocket.

“It’s him! It’s all him! I’m just being a supportive boyfriend; I have no investment in this tomfoolery whatsoever.”

Kevin blinked in surprise as he walked into earshot, before looking more than a little hurt. “You said you liked Unexplained Head Injuries. I got you the CDs and everything.” His bottom lip quivered as he stared up at Owen. “Was everything you told me a liiiie?”

Lonnie and Inez’s grins widened all the more as Owen’s face turned more and more crimson, to the point where he practically wedged his face into his glass and downed whatever was inside. Kevin took pity, patting Owen on the shoulder. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Really.”

“Go away,” came the muffled reply from within the glass.

“You’ll learn to like it.” Kevin beamed, and his attention turned to Inez. “I thought I’d seen you around here before but I didn’t think to ask. You after anyone in particular?”

Inez blushed, and waved her palms. “No, no, I’m easy. I’m just here for the experience.”

“Favourite so far?”

“Mõïst Ümláüt’s usually better than this, but it’s a decent looking lineup.”

“I’m more after Kyle up next.”

“I never really heard much of theirs.”

“It’s kinda...well...explicitly edgy but the technicals are really good and their vocalist is fire. Think Pointy Bois with more flute.”

“Aha, a man of class, I see...”

Lonnie slowly stopped nodding as she realised that despite her best efforts she had completely lost track of the conversation. Feeling a little embarrassed, she sidled further up to Owen, resting her lip on her glass.

“I hope you don’t mind being surrounded by gremlins.”

“Don’t worry, you’re all much worse than gremlins...”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Goddamned nerds, the lot of you.”

Owen wasn’t the only one trying to lay low amidst the rollicking atmosphere, as in the up above, there was a sprinkling of dust as a skylight slid open and Simeamon dropped in. She landed neatly on the rafters, whistling at the sight below.

“Look at that. Best entertainment of the night, these crowds.”

The monkey sidled along, before glancing up behind her, whispering up into the skylight. “Come on, it’s fine. Jump down.”

“...I feel like this is a bad idea for somebody with no legs.”

“Come on, it’ll be fine.”

Secretly hoping it wouldn’t be fine, Simeamon edged backwards, watching as Syngnamon poked his head down through the hole. Then one flipper. Then, with a dextrous (if slightly chaotic) leap, he dropped down, clasping onto the rafters and balancing himself. Simeamon stuck her lip out, and sighed.

“Shoulda done a flip.”

“That would have been difficult.”

“Never know unless ya try.”

Simeamon shrugged, and rolled over onto her front, kicking her legs behind her as she watched the stage. “’Sides, you’re the one who wanted to come in here. Isn’t this a much better view than hobbling around outside like a little lost waif?”

Syngnamon sniffed, his eyes scanning the ground floor. “I do appreciate the assistance in climbing up the drainpipe.”

“No worries.”

Simeamon watched the band, nodding her head along to the lyrics she knew and making up the ones she didn’t. After a while, her gaze drifted sideways again, back to where Syngnamon was now lying on the beam, arms folded in front of him as he stared down at one point. Simeamon followed his gaze, and grimaced.

“Come on, dude, there’s a whole stage out. Inez doesn’t need you to babysit her.”

Syngnamon’s ears flicked, but his voice remained low. “I’m staying out of her way.”

“Not everything’s gonna end up in a disaster.” Simeamon sat up. “Seriously, friendly advice here, the way you just hang around her watching from a distance. It’s...a bit weird, you know. Tad creepy.”

Now Syngnamon did react, his head bowing away from the monkey’s accusatory stare.

“I’m...worried.”

“How so?”

“Inez...well...she tries so hard and she’s constantly smiling and laughing and she’s really good to me, but at the same time...” His head jewel flickered, and his eyes turned towards Simeamon. “There’s something off. I think she is still scared of me.”

“Have you asked her why?”

“...I don’t feel it is right.” Syngnamon placed a palm on his chest. “I am her knight. It doesn’t matter to me what she feels of me. Only that she is safe, and that she is happy.”

Simeamon looked him up and down, before leaning back again. “Whatever. You sort your own shit out. I’m not touching that.”

“Are you different with your partner?”

Now it was Simeamon’s turn to go all quiet. Syngnamon waited patiently, until the monkey stopped chewing her lip and muttered under her breath, “We just need a bit of space sometimes, Owen and me. Things can get awkward.”

“...I see.” Syngnamon bowed his head. “I won’t pry.”

“Cheers.”

The seahorse brushed his mane away. “To be completely honest, I am enjoying the music as well. Her tastes have rubbed off on me.”

“Bangers, am I right?”

“...yes, they are indeed banging about a lot down there.”

“That’s not what I...” Simeamon chuckled, and shook her head. “Y’know what? Never mind. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the show.

A final riff was followed by rapturous applause as Mõïst Ümláüt departed from the stage, the drummer taking the time to throw dinosaur keyrings into the audience as a farewell gift. Lonnie whooped and pumped her fist in the air, before turning to the board, scanning down the list of scheduled groups. “Who is it next then? Kyle?”

Inez scratched behind her neck. “They’ve been awfully quiet about it all evening. I wonder if something’s up?”

As if in response, the voice of the compare came over the tannoy, mostly drowned out by the crowds. "Sadly Kyle will not be performing this evening due to the lead singer contracting laryngitis.”

This announcement rippled through the partygoers and summoned cries of disappointment and boos from the crowd. Kevin pulled off his bandana and threw it on the ground with a hurt expression on his face. “Oh come on! Again? Why can’t they ever show up?”

Owen rolled his eyes. “Dammit Kyle.”

“One of our backup acts will be performing instead. Please wait; we think you’re gonna like this.”

The voice went muffled again, leaving murmurs of apprehension rippling through the crowds. Lonnie looked over at Inez, who shrugged. “No idea. It could be anyone; they usually have a couple of acts in spare in case something like this happens.”

“How often does it happen?”

“With these bands? About once per night.”

There was the sound of shushing nearby, as a new figure walked slowly onto the stage, hidden by the dim lights; a young woman wearing a vivid red and black blouse, and thigh-high platforms. A couple of people moved in the shadows behind her, swapping onto drums and keyboard, but the woman herself stood alone at the front, with her straight black hair styled impressively into two long bangs and a high ponytail held in a red-winged hair tie. Inez stood on her tiptoes, frowning as she tried to see over everybody. “What’s that? Who is it? She’s holding something, isn’t she?”

The woman raised her arms, and held the object up to her chin, revealing it to be a violin; dark, plain and almost invisible beneath the lights. She pulled the bow up in her other hand, and gently pushed the strings. The sound echoed out, and the crowd went silent, waiting in anticipation.

The girl kept her eyes closed, and pulled the bow back. Then forwards again, her fingers dancing over the fret as a slow, melancholic melody rang out. It was alone in the darkness; unaided and unenforced. It wobbled as she reached the end of her stroke, yet still cut through the atmosphere, commanding attention.

Lonnie leaned sideways, whispering into Inez’s ear. “My sister’s learning violin. This girl’s pretty good.”

No answer. She looked to the side, and saw Inez staring up at the stage, her eyes wider than Lonnie had ever seen them. Inez’s mouth hovered open, her voice stuttering and barely even daring to whisper.

“I know this song...”

The girl pulled her glasses down, squinting up at the stage as the violinist pulled her arms close together, reaching an icy high B. The crowd held their breath. Inez mouthed the words to herself.

“It can’t be...”

The woman pulled her bow down in a chromatic, and began to play in earnest. No longer a melancholic soul; now the movements were frenetic and furious, with each note cutting into the air, getting faster and faster yet remaining precise. She reached the end of a clause, jumping from low to high in an instant. The drums joined in behind her, followed by the keyboard, but they merely kept the pace, providing texture and tempo to what was the young woman’s sole performance. She didn’t slow an inch, each new bar adding to the rage and story that echoed out from the bow. A cacophonous plot twist. A winding mystery. Reaching higher and higher, then down in a terrifying chord, right into a key change.

The crowd went ballistic, the lights returning to form as the performance kept going. Owen and Kevin stood gawping at the spectacle, with even Owen’s cynical disposition completely vanishing against such prowess. Lonnie would have found something to say, had Inez not grabbed her by the collar and began shaking her back and forth with vibrating hands.

“Bwuh-bwhuw-wbwbwhub-wuwuwubb-bbbuwuuhwhuhuwhb-BUUUUH! BUUUH!”

Lonnie raised a finger as her head nodded back and forth. “Do you...know-“

"That’s...that’s Lyra! Lyra! I don’t believe it! It’s her! Why is it her? Why is she here?”

Inez clearly wasn’t the only one who recognised her, as cheers and screams echoed out from all around the mosh pit. Lyra stepped back, her fingers moving at an insane speed as the melody arched upwards again, playing around the chromatic and stabbing higher and higher, until it culminated in a flurry of notes at the very top range of the instrument. The young woman took in a breath as the keys and the drum stopped, holding the hall in silence and stillness for a few precious microseconds. Then she pulled her arm back, striking one final chord, and thrusting her arms to the side to the sound of thunderous applause.

She stood there for a moment, breathing shallow breaths as the lights danced up and down. Then she stood up, and edged forwards, the lights finally illuminating part of her face. She was tall, Japanese, and quite young looking, only around nineteen or twenty. She had a slender neck and rounded face, made up with sombre eyeshadow. She smiled, and gave a quick nod.

“Thank you so much for listening.”

Her voice was quiet and subdued, heavy with an accent, and it was nearly drowned out by the voices clamouring for more. She chuckled, and held her violin in front of her.

“I do not have very long. Will you keep me company?”

A cheer erupted around the stage as the young woman raised her bow again, starting a much faster paced song.

At a table to one side of the club, Grace grinned as she watched her friends bobbing along to the unique music. This wasn’t usually her scene, but she had to admit that she’d been impressed with a lot of what she’d seen, and especially the hardcore violin currently happening on the stage above.

She glanced to one side, catching sight of Nicholas, who was bobbing his head along, his expression quite calm. Grace nudged him, before leaning in amongst the blaring music.

“I’m glad I came. It’s a new experience.”

“Mmhmm,” replied Nicholas, looking down at his hands. “Always good to try.”

Grace’s face fell, and she looked away, holding her hands close together. Nicholas looked over at her, before leaning an arm on the table. “Your friends are really enjoying themselves.”

“I’m not surprised. They’re much better at this stuff than I am.” She looked up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Are you...like...into dancing or are you just a listener?”

Nicholas blinked. “I have danced.”

“Would you-“

“I’m...not very good. Really not very good. At all.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry.”

Grace looked down again, the music ringing in her ears. She clenched her fingers over her skirt, and looked up. “I’m sorry. I mean...am I...are we...am I pushing this too fast or...I don’t know...”

Nicholas raised his palms, shaking them, “No, please, really, I’m having fun, I just don’t show it very well.”

He smiled, but the smile seemed distant. Grace bit her lip.

“I don’t wanna let you down.”

“You’re not.”

“But I pulled you along to this without even asking if you wanted to and it’s just...I don’t know what I’m doing and I feel like I’m doing it really badly and-

“You’re not! It’s fine, really, I...I...“

The two locked gazes, with Nicholas’s pale blue eyes boring deep into Grace’s hazel ones. The boy opened his mouth, but couldn’t find any words. Grace copied his actions. The two reached their hands out together, then pulled away. Nicholas slowly shuffled backwards.

“I’m...heading to the restroom...”

He leant forwards and gave the girl a quick one-armed hug around the shoulders, before standing up and shuffling through the tables. Grace watched him go, half of her body screaming at her to do something, say something. But she couldn’t. She didn’t know what. What to say. What she wanted. What she was even doing here.

She leant forwards, running her fingers down her face as she groaned into her hands.

“What the hell is wrong with me?”

She stayed there for a moment, then peered through her fingers, watching as Lyra completed another song and started her third; a slower, icy melody that arced back and forth from wall to wall. Grace’s eyes landed on her friends, who were all raved out for the time being and had congregated in the corner, bonding over music likes and (in Owen’s case) tolerances. Part of Grace’s mind wanted her to walk over and join them, to return to a familiar setting. But she stayed put. They seemed a world away from her now.

“Why does a normal life have to be so hard?”

Crack

“Ow!”

An arc of blue light flashed before her and she jumped, knocking her empty glass over. The air felt fuzzy, and she could smell a whiff of ozone. She looked aside at the nearby electrical sockets, noticing a little cloud of blue bolts arcing around them.

They weren’t the only ones. Similar blue glows were lighting up around the club, and the stage lights were beginning to hum and buzz. The audio suddenly juddered, screeched, and fell into a mess of feedback as the lights went out entirely. Grace’s eyes widened, and she got to her feet, yelling out without thinking.

“NO.”

On the stage, Lyra stopped playing, looking around in the pitch blackness as confusion broke out among the partygoers. There was some attempt at an explanation from the stage manager, but even that was muffled and incomprehensible, the microphone choked with interference. The blue glows began to congregate, arcing along the walls and the floor and blowing bulbs and sockets in their path, as they edged to the rear of the club, just to the right of the stage where an exit to the rear was.

The audio vanished completely, replaced by a screeching wailing mess, interspersed with rough static and crackling. There was a bang, and a ripple of distress worked through the crowd as they backed away from the glowing blue lights. Another bang, and the sound of tearing metal. Owen, Kevin, Inez and Lonnie edged closer, staying at a safe distance as they looked at one another in alarm. Up above, Syngnamon and Simeamon tensed, before leaping to their feet and running across the roof beams, aiming for their partners.

“This is not good.”

“A Digimon attack? In a closed space full of people? No shit, Seabiscuit, this really is not good.”

The bang sounded a third time, and one corner of the club suddenly lit up with blue as a living bolt of lightning forced its way through the door, stabbing against the floor with a series of sparks. Then another one did the same. They flexed, dragging forwards a trembling, flicking metallic shell, with two silver prongs and a huge golden sword blade sticking out from the front. Another pair of bolts emerged behind it, stabbing the ground, and making the whole thing look like some kind of mechanised electrified insect. It shivered, its body segments juddering open and closed. Its electrified legs sent out arcs towards the nearest bystanders, the whole display making the room light up with white and blue.

Inez held out her D-SEND, trying to stop herself from hyperventilating as she read the description out under her breath.

“BladeKuwagamon...Champion level...Virus...Indiscriminate and erratic...oh noooo...”

The bug reared up, and screamed, its voice half synthetic and all animalistic as it began to march forwards.

“SKREEEEEEEEEEE!”

Chaos erupted through the crowds, as they scrambled through one another in a desperate attempt to get away from the marauding insect. It swung its head sideways, the blade slicing into the stage and blowing up a floodlight with the sparks it gave off.

Owen covered his head as splinters flew towards him, and winced at the sound of somebody screeching nearby.

“Baaaaad bad bad bad bad! Bad place for a big boom bug. Who...what the hell thought this was an okay thing to do?”

Inez was throwing her head back and forth, looking all around with panic in her eyes. “Lyra! The performers! Oh my god, where are they?”

She looked at Kevin, who pointed to where the last of the groups were running out the exit to the back of the stage, some of them helping one another along. It wasn’t feasible for anyone else to reach it, but Inez still found herself breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank god...”

“Ahem.”

The girl realised what she’d just said, and looked up at Owen, who gestured to the rest of the club attendees desperately trying to pack themselves next to the front of the club, and managing to get through the door at a pathetically slow rate. Inez swallowed, and raised her arms.

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“Well start. We have a situation.”

The girl raised her hands, flapping wildly. “What are we supposed to do? We didn’t bring our partners!”

“AIIIEEEEEE!”

A rousing scream from nearby caught both their attentions, as Syngnamon flopped down next to a startled onlooker wielding foot-long punk spikes. There was another flop as Simeamon landed as well, prompting another ear-piercing scream. His leg waved about wildly, before landing on the monkey’s own boot. She screeched in turn, and pointed a finger up at the guy, venom in her eyes.

“Watch it, bub, or death by lightning bug is gonna be the second most embarrassing thing to happen to you today!”

The teen gabbled, and waded his way back through the crowds at triple the speed from before. Syngnamon rubbed behind his head, muttering a short ‘sorry...’, before he and Simeamon backed away to where their tamers were hiding around a corner, thankfully masked by the flickering lightshow. Owen had his hands on his hips, scowling down at his partner. “Simeamon! What have I told you about being rude to people stupider than you?”

“He trod on my foot!”

“You fight monsters for a living; suck it up.”

Inez raised a hand, looking down at the two Rookies. “Wait, time out, back up; what the hell are you doing here anyway? Did you pay?”

Syngnamon planted his face against the floor, splaying his palms out in front of him as he gurgled “Oh Yggdrasil, I am so sorry Inez.”

Simeamon stuck her tongue out. “Whatever. We’re here now; deal with it.”

“SKREEEE!”

Bolts of lightning flew at them as the group ducked, with Lonnie pointing a wild finger from up against the wall. “Yeah, perhaps while you’re here if you could deal with that?”

Owen and Inez nodded at one another, and pulled out their D-SENDs, lights building within them as Simeamon and Syngnamon charged at BladeKuwagamon.

“Simeamon, Soul Accelerate!”

“Syngnamon, Soul Accelerate!”

“Evolution Activate!”

Green and blue lights rushed through the darkness, with BladeKuwagamon humming wildly and swiping at nothing as the two larger figures materialised in front of it.

“Sapiamon!”

“Kampoimon!”

The seahorse landed first, his far larger bulk less streamlined than it had been in the ocean, yet still standing upright. BladeKuwagamon’s snout glowed, and it fired an arc of white lightning, but the seahorse stabbed downwards into the floor with his lance, the metal deflecting the worst of the arc. The bug jittered, and tried to charge up again, but Kampoimon swung his tail sideways, slashing one electrified leg and throwing the insect off its rhythm.

Kampoimon backed off, already slightly burned from the encounter, and looked down at Sapiamon. “Help the others out the front door, please.”

“Huh?” Sapiamon glanced up, dropping a few cartridges which she was midway through loading into her gun. “I’m a marksman, not a chauffeur.”

“I cannot fight properly with all these people in here.” Kampoimon looked back at the chaotic crowds, and rumbled nervously. “It’s hazardous enough as it is. Please help me.”

Sapiamon’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know...some people...”

Still, she complied, leaping backwards and skipping around the side of the club to the massive front window, peering at the escapees as they gathered agonisingly slowly outside. She tutted, and hopped up on the nearest table, cupping her hands to her visor.

“Yo, fellow morons, will you close your eyes and place your head between the legs of the person nearest to you for your own safety!”

The gaggle of panicking bystanders somehow managed to coordinate this surprisingly well (to some degree) which was quite fortunate since Sapiamon wasted no time in grabbing a volley of orbs from her belt and scattering them at the base of the window.

“Digital Blitz!”

The devices exploded in unison, sending out pulses that rippled through the glass and caused it to shatter outwards into the street. The space monkey ran her palms around the pane as best she could, before hopping aside and giving a bow.

“Your exits await, now please hurry the fuck up.”

Immediately half the group stopped clamouring and began to climb out through the window, vastly accelerating the leaving process.

Caught up in the middle of the crowds, Grace stood almost stock still, squinting as she tried to see Kampoimon and BladeKuwagamon tussling over what remained of the stage. She saw the others, and reached out towards them. “Wait-“

“Grace!”

The girl turned, just as Nicholas reached out for her hand, beginning to pull her back.

“Wait, I just - the others!”

Nicholas pointed. “They’re coming, look. But we need to get out of the way ourselves. It’s gonna get messy.”

Grace found herself dragged out through the open window, and suddenly she was outside, blinking in the flashing lights and the terrified murmurs of all those around. Nicholas stood next to her, holding his knees and breathing heavily. Grace placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”

The young man pushed his glasses up, and gave her a smile. “We really do keep meeting in the wrong place at the wrong time, don’t we?”

Grace laughed humourlessly. “I...guess we do...”

“...I have to go...”

Grace didn’t quite hear him. She took a gulp of air herself, before looking up at the sky, her vision swimming. She felt sick. The flashing lights hadn’t helped, but it was something else. Something deeper.

“Nicholas, I-“

She stopped, looking around herself as she found herself alone in the crowd. The boy was nowhere to be seen. No, wait. She stepped to one side, catching a flash of his blonde hair as he disappeared further into the crowd.

“Wait, come back!”

“Grace!”

Before the girl could even fully process what was going on, the others had caught up with her. Lonnie scratched behind her head, looking decidedly irritated.

“I was enjoying that and all...”

The taller girl frowned, tilting her head as she looked down at Grace. “Where’s Nicholas? He did get out alright, didn’t he?”

Grace felt Lonnie’s eyes boring into her, not exactly sure what to say. “He...left.”

“Left?”

Grace breathed out. “He’s fine.” She shook herself out of her stupor, and looked back inside the building, where arcs of lightning flashed all around. “Shouldn’t we go back in?”

“There’s not enough room. It’s not safe.” Owen looked over his shoulder, holding Kevin tightly in one arm. “We’d only be in the way.”

“KRRREEEEEE!”

Sparks flew everywhere, blasting several more bulbs apart as BladeKuwagamon released savage arcs of electricity into Kampoimon. The seahorse grunted, backing up as he tried to deflect them away again, and throwing a blast of light from his lance in retaliation. It did little to stop the bug’s rampage, save for momentarily distracting it.

Kampoimon lunged to one side, nearly tripping over some tables, and thrust his front legs out, whipping the weapon past with a volley of light particles. They hit the electric fields and scattered, shimmering in the darkness of the ruined clubhouse. BladeKuwagamon was unfazed by the attack, swinging its snout downwards and slashing Kampoimon across the shoulder.

“Aaaah!”

“Nebula Blaster!”

A green shockwave burst through the shadows, striking the bug on one side and knocking it down. It pressed itself up, and trilled, firing into the darkness as Sapiamon skipped left and right, landing next to Kampoimon. “Durable little bugger ain’t he?”

“Is everyone out?”

The monkey groaned at the ceiling, “Yes, god, everyone’s out, what do you take me for. Can I fight now? Is that alright with you? Hmmm?”

“Indeed.” Kampoimon flexed his shoulders, the jewels around his midriff glowing white. “Mind you, without any collateral in the way, then so can I.”

Sensing the waves of energy coming off of him, Sapiamon backed away. BladeKuwagamon had no such discernment, and its electrified legs pounded against the ground as it charged forwards, blade glowing white. But Kampoimon was ready and waiting, rearing up on his tail and raising both arms.

“Crushing Tide!”

Water exploded out from around him; not in such a spectacular display as when he was on the sea, but a sizeable amount nonetheless. He brought his left arm forwards, and half the water streamed round in a pillar, melding with BladeKuwagamon’s living energy. It let off a mighty howl, the electrified fluid coursing around it and causing its body to do things it never intended; spasming and jerking and cracking the very shell.

The electricity also reached back to Kampoimon, and his own arm jerked, causing him to gasp in pain. But he fought through it, throwing his other hand forwards in a flat palm. The remaining water followed his movements, slamming into BladeKuwagamon and sending it careering back into the door it came from.

It juddered, and sparked, trying to recover its electric legs as they curled into faint wisps. But it didn’t have time to react as Sapiamon rushed forwards, firing a wave of lasers from her rifle. BladeKuwagamon fired a blast of white light that knocked a beam from the ceiling, nearly falling on her, but she landed and aimed a hefty mechanised punch at the bug, leaving a dent in its snout. It swiped down, embedding itself in the floor, but she leapt up again, flinging a wide arc of little devices into the wall behind the insect.

“Digital Blitz!”

There was a delay as all the little bombs stuck, giving Sapiamon enough time to land in front of BladeKuwagamon and land two kicks; a harsh knee that made the robotic bug rear up, followed by a devastating roundhouse that sent it crashing back, right into the little nest of bombs.

BOOM

BladeKuwagamon was thrown backwards, and even Sapiamon covered herself against the explosive impact. She brushed herself off, and stared out at the bug, rolling around stunned in the back alley.

Sapiamon placed a palm on her hip, whistling nonchalantly as Kampoimon bent over next to her. “That was rather excessive.”

“Yeah...might have used one more pulse generator than I really meant to. My bad.”

“Must you really make such large holes in the humans’ property? It’s not very polite.”

Sapiamon waved her hand down, puffing in response. “Big deal. This place is gonna be an insurance write-off anyway; might as well get my money’s worth.”

There was a clicking and a horrible scraping sound, and the two Digimon emerged, bracing themselves as BladeKuwagamon pushed itself up on shaky legs once again. It glanced at its two opponents, for a moment looking as if it might strike again.

Then its body split open, and two bolts of electricity spurted out from the top, vibrating and shimmering faster than its legs were. The mechanised brute lifted off the ground, and it rose up, past the rooftops and up towards the sky. Kampoimon raised his spear, but Sapiamon held a palm up.

“Wait. Let it go. It ain’t coming back.”

Kampoimon glanced down at her, but he lowered his weapon. “How are you so sure?”

“It did what it was meant to. Whoever sent it has got what they came for.”

“What do you mean, whoever sent it?” Kampoimon queried, before he looked around himself. He sniffed, and blinked, peering down at the ground at the silvery specks. “Data.”

“A lot of it. And look.” Sapiamon pointed at the door behind her. “I made a nice little exit here, but there’s no other point of entry. Ergo the bug went in through the back door.”

“What is your point?”

The monkey walked over, and pushed the still-intact slab of metal. A few bits of what remained of the lock dropped out and hit the floor, but aside from that the whole thing moved very cleanly.

“Our friendly lightbug up there is many things. Tall, rude, fabulous; but precise enough to do delicate lock removal isn’t one of them.” She leaned back, and pointed further down towards the other side of the club. “I would hazard a guess that there’s been a commotion through that door as well, and we were just a bit too distracted to notice.”

Kampoimon placed his front hooves together, whinnying gently. “This is all very troubling.”

“Well...a lot of Digimon don’t like us, really, so this kind of thing’s to be expected-“

“No, I mean, if they weren’t after us, then it is so incredibly fortunate that we were here.” The seahorse looked up, his eyes glowing against the night sky. “A lot of people could have died tonight if we had not come here.”

Sapiamon let out a breath, before pocketing her rifle and walking off down the alley. “Devolve and catch up with the others. When you see Owen, tell him I’ll find him later.”

Kampoimon turned. “Where are you going?”

“To do some scouting. To find out who these arseholes are who are stealing shit from the humans. We can’t afford to be passive anymore.”

She leapt up onto a building, and vanished into the night before Kampoimon could say anything more.

The incident at the music club hit the local news hard. Seventeen people hospitalised with burns and broken bones. Thousands of pounds in property damage. Several pieces of top range AV equipment unaccounted for.

The local tabloids revealed their hurt. Showed solidarity. Enough. No more. Dangerous beasts. The national papers blew it up further. Quarantine. Militarisation. Get these beasts away from our shores.

Grace threw her phone down in front of her, and clutched the bridge of her nose. The sickness in her stomach still hadn’t gone away, and she hadn’t been able to eat all day for fear of bringing it up again. Vulpimon was laying down next to her bed, occasionally looking up in her direction, but staying quiet.

The girl clutched one shoulder, a clamminess setting in. Glancing behind her, she noticed a pile of books and loose sheets of paper from college. No chance. She’d just have to apologise to her teachers tomorrow. In fact she wasn’t even sure if she could make it in.

“Grace?”

The girl looked up, seeing her brother in the doorway, clutching the frame. He smiled weakly, and waved his phone a little in front of him.

“Simeamon came back. She’s found where BladeKuwagamon’s trail leads; Westbrook industrial park. She reckons they hand over the stuff they’ve stolen there.”

“That’s good.”

Jack shuffled nervously. There was a little rustle as Perimon stepped out from behind him, glancing knowingly at Vulpimon. The boy next to him rubbed his neck. “Mark wants to check it out, try and stop this. Owen too.” He sighed. “I’m going, and, well, I just thought you might want to be involved.”

Grace pressed her teeth together, and slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. “I need to be there. I need to-“

Bzzz .

Her phone vibrated next to her, and she picked it up. One new message. She stopped in her tracks, staring down at the screen. Jack edged further into the room. “Is everything alright?”

Grace’s hand trembled, and she held her phone close to her chest, hiding it and her expression from her brother.

“...I can’t...”

“Grace, I-“

“Go without me. Please.” She looked up, forcing a smile at Jack. “You can handle it, right?”

Jack pressed his lips together. Slowly he walked forwards, and gave his sister a loose hug around her shoulders. Then he straightened up, his mouth morphing into his standard cheery grin. “Of course I can. We’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Brilliant.”

Grace sat stock still as she watched her brother and Perimon depart, and found herself staring at the opposite wall. She sniffed, and pulled out her phone again, looking at Nicholas’s message.

"I need some time to think. Not your fault. I’ll see you later. Nicholas. Xx”

Grace felt her hand going again, and she threw the phone to the side, clutching her wrist and falling sideways onto the bed. She held the palm against her face, squeezing her eyes shut so no tears would come out.

“I can’t keep going like this...”

She let her arm drop, and buried her face in her pillow. At the foot of her bed, Vulpimon shuffled closer, nestling her head underneath the girl’s hand. She gave a small, concerned whimper, but said nothing.

The night was cloudy, with a light drizzle settling in as Owen, Mark and Jack laid low on the rooftop, their partners poised beside them. Mark shivered, and looked down at Simeamon. “Are you sure about this?”

His own partner sniffed the air, and gave a low hum. “There’s been a lot of digital activity here. I can feel it.”

Mark exhaled, his breath amplified by his mask. “We’d better be right. This can’t go on for much longer.”

Owen rested his helmet on his palm, staring ahead. “Nice, something we agree on.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing at all. Just savour it; it won’t happen often.”

“Guys,” said Jack quietly, rubbing the mist from his goggles, “you don’t think this could be a trap, do you? Do you think whoever’s leading this knows who we are?”

Owen tapped his visor. “If it is a trap, maybe it’s best to face it head on with that in mind.” He jerked, and pressed his head down. “There. We have company.”

The three humans and their Digimon watched, as a silhouette descended onto the rooftop. It was incredibly thin, and landed as lightly as a feather, stabilising itself with triangular wings. For a moment it stood stock still, glancing around. Then it rushed over to a nearby storage container, and lashed out with a leg, kicking the door. It swung open, but no alarms sounded. Probably disabled in advance. Whoever it was must have practiced beforehand.

It disappeared for a second, before re-emerging, clutching a crate in both legs. It spread its wings, hovering forwards effortlessly.

Jack stared, mesmerised by the efficiency. “It’s so thin. How is it able to move that thing so quickly?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Mark stood up, holding his D-SEND. “It’s going to be gone if we don’t move now.”

“Mark!”

“This ends here.”

The figure jerked bolt upright, and its head turned ninety-degrees as the three humans rushed out from their hiding spot. It turned around, but Perimon was already behind it, holding his wings out and fixing the assailant with a beady-eyed stare. Simeamon was there just behind, holding her pistol, with Chromon blocking off the third exit. Mark reached the rooftop, and stared at the creature, with the other two tamers flanking him.

“Let go of that crate, now. Who are you?”

The clouds parted above, sending a tiny sliver of moonlight down, illuminating the creature. As thin as he was, he was tall, easily able to look Mark in the eye. He was some sort of crane, but there was nothing organic about him, as he seemed to be made entirely of paper; cream and red and gold, folded into an intricate geometric form. He had impossibly spindly legs and a splayed tail, and his wings were long and streamlined, with the ends splitting into two claws. His beak was long and spear-like, and he had an angular crest on the top of his head.

The crane held himself upright, and hopped down from the crate, fixing them all with beady brown eyes. He raised a wing, and brought it in front of his chest, descending in an elaborate bow.

“My name is Tsurumon. And forgive me, but I must ask that you do not intervene.”

TO BE CONTINUED...