“Hurry, come through.”

“I’m...I’m stuck...Brom...”

“For god’s sake...”

There was a clatter and a jangling, and a yell from Raif as her partner pulled her through the gap in the fence. She staggered for a bit, her hand going to the small battery pack at her belt. Brom folded her arms.

“You’d better not have broken that already. You know we don’t have any way to fix them now.”

“I know, I know, I’m trying...”

Raif’s gloved hands went to her belt, flicking a switch on and off and hearing the gentle hum of the lance in her hand. She straightened up, nodding vigorously.

“It’s all fine.”

“Good.”

Brom marched off ahead, with Raif following behind her, shoulders hunched and hands held in front of her. The darkness helped to conceal them as it had so many times before, but the slight haze in the air made the whole atmosphere less predictable than before. Every movement above them caused Raif to duck down further, until she stumbled again, causing Brom to reach back and drag her forwards.

“What is your problem?”

Raif swallowed, blurting out before she could stop herself. “I don’t know about this! We shouldn’t be doing this anymore. It’s not right.”

“It’s not right?”

A sharp elbow jabbed Raif in the side, causing her to gasp. Brom straightened up. “We got into this to stop this monster invasion. You think it’s ‘right’ just to give up on that just because three arrogant bird-women say they’re taking charge?”

“But a lot of the Digimon themselves have calmed down...maybe if we-“

“I’m not listening to your excuses.” Brom leant back against a wall, staring up at the clouds. “Just because Vex has gone, and Dula, and Kade and...look...someone...somebody has to take a stand. If we stop, that means we surrender. I won’t surrender. And I won’t let you.”

Clatter.

Brom’s head turned sideways, and she pulled Raif down, staring into the alleyway, where a small, furry creature with metal gauntlets was scrabbling around in a skip. Brom grunted, and set off immediately, powering her gloves up even as Raif hesitated.

The Prairiemon looked up, and yelped, scarpering to one side as Brom slammed downwards, the electrified metal ringing out through the alleyway. The prairie dog tumbled down, and found Brom’s foot against his chest before he could run. He looked up, his eyes full of panic.

“What...are you...I thought you’d gone away! Why are you chasing me?”

Brom leant forwards, her visor shining menacingly. “Because you don’t belong in this world. And you never will. No matter what they tell you.”

“That seems presumptuous.”

A heavy bead flew out from the darkness, slamming into Brom’s kneecap with a crack. She grunted, and the Prairiemon grabbed his chance, knocking her foot away and scurrying away into the darkness. So preoccupied was he with looking behind him that he ran straight into the large, fuzzy foreleg of Martyaxmon.

Prairiemon looked up, and his eyes met the manticore’s. Martyaxmon raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

“AAAAAIIIIIGH!”

Prairiemon darted away into the darkness at full pelt, babbling incoherently the whole way. Martyaxmon watched him go, his shoulders descending.

“Okay, this is just depressing now...”

“You again.”

The manticore turned back towards Brom, who limped towards him, still holding her charged gloves up. “You all think you’re above us, but you’re not. This is our world. There’s no room in it for monsters.”

“Yes, well, I’m afraid we have to go somewhere.”

“Raif!”

Martyaxmon felt a static hum behind him, and turned his head slightly to see the shorter hunter standing to his right, holding her lance with two trembling hands. He tilted his head in a bored manner, staring back at Brom as she also advanced.

“I would seriously advise against this.”

“Go for his neck!”

Martyaxmon rolled his eyes, and ducked as the lance swung overhead, knocking against his mane. He could feel the electromagnetism passing through him, but it was a mere pinprick at his current level. Brom reached him and brought her fist forwards, but he jumped backwards with a great agility, twisting his body. Brom only just twigged the rolling segments next to her before the flat of Martyaxmon’s scorpion tail crashed into her side, sending her tumbling into the brick wall.

“Brom!”

“Don’t, you idiot-“

Raif was already running towards her companion, but she too was blindsided as two mighty beads struck her lower legs, causing her to crash into the ground. A shadow passed over her, and a vast paw came down at her hip, crushing the pack at her belt and scraping down her side. She looked ahead, watching her buckled lance flicker off, before she rolled onto her back, scrambling away.

There was a flash of yellow, and her cry for assistance was caught in her throat, held in place by a flat, yellow tail blade. Martyaxmon bent down, his tail curled around him and pressed up underneath the hunter’s helmet. His eyes were bright orange, flames dancing behind them.

“I don’t have the patience for you people. You were given every chance to stop.”

Raif struggled, but Martyaxmon pressed forwards, the flat of the blade digging further in. His eyes flicked up, staring at Brom as she held herself up against the wall, her shoulders heaving up and down.

“This is all on you...”

“Marty!”

The manticore’s head bristled, and he looked sideways, with the two hunters following his gaze. Simeamon stood against the wall, arms folded, and a deeply irritated expression on her face. She glowered at each one of them in turn, but especially up at Martyaxmon.

“Marty, I told you to back off a bit with these guys.”

The lion pawed against the ground. “Do you have to call me that?”

“What did I say?”

Martyaxmon snorted, and sat down with a thunk. He glared down at Raif for a few seconds, before pulling his tail back with a sigh. His gaze flicked back up to Brom, and he nodded at her.

“Take that pack off and throw it on the ground. You’re not going to need it anymore.”

He swished his tail menacingly, watching as Brom slowly pulled the strap off her shoulder. She held it in front of her for a few seconds, looking down at the still humming equipment. Martyaxmon narrowed his eyes.

“I’m waiting.”

Simeamon sighed. “Come on lady, do the right thing.”

“I don’t take orders from YOU!”

Brom lunged forwards, holding her hands out as she ran towards the stunned monkey. But all of a sudden there was a flash of blue, and she looked up just to see a bead fly into her hand. Her wrist buckled sideways, letting off an ominous crunch.

“Aaaaiiiee...”

Martyaxmon had already leapt forwards. His tail swung in an arc, and all of a sudden Brom was on the ground, clutching her twitching hand as the pack clattered to the ground. She looked up, Raif running to her side. Martyaxmon curled round, standing atop the pack between them and Simeamon.

“I wasn’t starting negotiations.”

He snarled ferociously, raised his forepaw, and brought it down on the rucksack with a blast of red flame. It splintered in an instant, leaving black marks against the brickwork. Then he sat down, staring at the two women. He remained still for a few seconds as Raif pulled Brom to her feet, but the taller woman wasn’t going to go down quietly as she swung her non-injured hand out.

“Bastards! Monsters! You...this...this isn’t your place anymore!”

“Look who’s talking.”

Martyaxmon licked his lips, and bowed his head, fixing the both of them with a hard stare.

“Go home. Whatever crusade you thought you were fighting, it’s over now. This world’s moved on from you people.”

Brom remained stiff for a few seconds, her arm shaking. Then she slumped, falling over Raif’s shoulder as her head fell downwards. Raif looked between her and the lion for a few moments, before Martyaxmon just gestured with his head. She turned, and the two limped away, back out of the alleyway and into pastures unknown.

Martyaxmon remained seated, reaching out with a paw and patting out the few remaining flames smothering the concrete at his feet. There was the sound of squeaking boots beside him, as Simeamon wandered forwards, holding her arms behind her head.

“That might have been a bit much.”

“I didn’t kill them. What more do you want?”

“True, but y’don’t have to be quite as keen to break people’s limbs like that. Humans are squishy and fragile. They don’t come out of it as cleanly as we do.”

Martyaxmon huffed, a small blast of fire coming out from his nostrils. “Yeah, I have experience with humans in that regard and I’m going to have to call bullshit.”

“Ooh, mysterious grudges. Do tell. You promised.”

“I’m not talking to you.”

The manticore got to his feet and turned on his tail, padding back down into the darkness. He managed to get a few steps before he felt the now-familiar sensation of Simeamon clambering up his shoulder, nestling in the back of his mane. She poked her head out, grinning. “Come on, just promise me, alright? Less of the boney-breaky.”

“If I agree, will you stop calling me Marty?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“I guessed as much.” Martyaxmon sighed. “I can be a bit heavy-handed, I suppose.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“...and I can try to be a little bit gentler.”

“Sweet.”

Pause.

“It’s still satisfying though.”

“Oh, totally. I’m not disputing that.” Simeamon pressed her chin forwards. “But...well, y’know, I have to give you nice advice. Be a good conscience.”

“I’ve seen your daily habits, and you are nowhere near a good conscience.”

“Sure I am.” Simeamon closed her eyes. “I’ve had a hella lot of practise at it.”

The unlikely duo wandered through the back streets of the city, taking the alleys at a leisurely pace. Not that there was any need to hurry anyway; this section of the town had been evacuated after the riots, having taken some of the heaviest damage. It made daily movements easier to deal with, although Martyaxmon was still keen to stop any potential fights when he sensed them.

Still, they reached their den without any further incident, and Martyaxmon gently rolled the half-asleep monkey off his back. He turned and left again, telling her to stay in place and wait. He was gone before she could even think to comment.

Simeamon tried to get back to sleep, but without the gentle warmth of the manticore’s mane it wasn’t going to happen. She satisfied herself with lying on the old duvet she’d acquired, arms behind her head, looking up at the stars. It was a clear night, and she could make out the patterns and constellations, all interspersed with the strange translucent network of the digital world; another dimension fading in and out of phase with this one. Simeamon gently raised a hand, grasping at the faraway split in space. She wondered to herself whether she actually missed it. It definitely seemed a world away now.

The monkey lost track of time, and managed to drift in and out of sleep, until the rustling of bushes nearby woke her up. She sat up, watching as her companion re-entered the garage, shaking a few leaves out of his hair. He opened his mouth, dropping a limp rabbit on the ground.

“I hope this will do.”

Simeamon grimaced. “Why does it have to be game again?”

“Because it’s winter and I’m not going fishing.”

Simeamon opened her mouth to complain, but all that came out was a long, low growl from her stomach. She blushed, and Martyaxmon raised an eyebrow.

“I am still planning on cooking, you know. Are you going to watch or would you prefer to keep your childhood innocence?”

“Dude, I lost that a long time ago.”

“Represent.”

Simeamon smirked, but still, she swung on the duvet, facing the other direction as Martyaxmon removed the rabbit to an old fire pit, holding it with a great dexterity. The monkey waited, trying not to think too hard about the sounds of tearing and slicing going on a few metres behind her. Presently there was a slight shockwave, followed by a blast of heat hitting her back. She sniffed, looking at the swinging lightbulb up above, long broken.

“You know, I do appreciate this, but like...there are a bunch of shops round here. We could easily get some kind of high-protein, high-calorie processed snack.”

“You can do what you want.”

“...well yeah but then I’d have to carry them all.”

“Yes you would. Apologies, but if you want to resort to thievery then I’m not getting involved.”

Simeamon puffed her cheeks out. “No, where are my manners, you need to be nice to people and only snap their ankles when it’s really necessary.”

“That’s different and you know it. Do you want some bunny or not?”

Simeamon turned round, her eyes reflecting the red flames outside with dinner swinging overhead on a makeshift wire stand. She grinned. “Well you’ve put all the effort in now.”

“I thought as much.”

The two ate together, the meagre meal giving them just a little sustenance for the endless street life. Simeamon got through a quarter before she gave up, and relegated herself to building little pyramids out of the bones beside her. Her eyes flicked up, just ever so slightly aware of Martyaxmon still digging into his significantly larger portion, holding it dextrously between his forepaws. He licked his lips, before looking up, noticing her staring.

“There’s a tiny bit more.”

“No, I just...I’m good, thanks.”

The manticore sighed, brushing the bones into the fire pit in front of him. “I’m sorry. You’re probably used to much more in the way of meals. But I really would prefer this over scrounging off the humans.”

“Why is that? Stick it to the man. They annoy you, don’t they?”

“Annoy, enrage; take your pick.” The manticore stared ahead. “That’s why I don’t want to owe them anything.”

He leant forwards, resting his head on his paws as his eyes followed the flickering red flames. Simeamon sat back, her tail swinging from side to side on the ground as she closed her eyes.

She’d heard stories, all those years ago, back in the early days of the inferno. She’d never seen the worst of it herself, thank god, locked away in a tiny enclosed corner of the old world. But she’d heard the stories and the panicked whispers. The Red Beast was coming – coming to burn everything to the ground. Unstoppable, relentless, a force of nature. Rinkhalmon you could maybe bargain with, and Cephalomon you could maybe outrun. But if you saw Martyaxmon coming for you, then all you could do was pick your last words.

Simeamon smirked. She’d been much younger then; boisterous and sure she could pick a fight with the world. She’d always bragged that she could take him. She could take anyone. There was nothing she couldn’t do.

Very, very young.

She opened her eyes again, fixing them on the red lion in front of her. It was a bizarre feeling, knowing that the docile, slightly lackadaisical creature before her had willingly half-destroyed the world and killed god knows how many.

I mean, to be fair, what Digimon hadn’t had their fair share of life-or-death scrapes, but still...

Martyaxmon seemed to be reading her mind, as he pushed himself up slightly. “What are you looking at?”

Simeamon bit her lip. “Why did you save me?”

The lion snorted. “You needed help.”

“Yeah but...well...y’know...”

“Oh, you mean why me. After all I’ve done. After the multiple war crimes. That’s what you meant.”

Simeamon crossed her legs, looking sheepish, and the manticore chuckled. “I’m good at reading others. Acquired skills. I can tell you’ve been wanting to ask me a lot for a while.”

He sighed, twisting his body around so his paws were facing her. His two beads swung gently in a circle above him as he rested his head sideways. “I’d been fighting for a long time. Then running for so long that I forgot why I was fighting in the first place. I don’t know why I felt I needed to save you; it just felt like the right thing to do. You needed help. And I was the only one there.”

“Seems kind of spur of the moment.”

“I’m not so naive as to believe that saving the life of one gobby monkey exonerates me from...well...anything I’ve done.”

“Yeah. That’s right.” The monkey puffed her cheeks out. “You know there’s nothing I can comfortably say to make it better, right?”

“I wouldn’t want you to. I’m nothing but a monster.” Martyaxmon buried his chin in his paws, staring into the distance. “Just a monster following orders.”

Simeamon sat up, looking into the embers in front of her. For a moment they flared, and she flinched, seeing the red warning lights in front of her, obscuring her vision, blocking her hearing, clouding her mind, giving her nothing except the deadly commands echoing through her cognition.

“...I can get how that feels...”

Martyaxmon looked at her, but said nothing. Simeamon poked the dying flames with a stick for a few minutes in silence, before piping up again.

“So how did you get here, then? What happened?”

“I can’t really be sure. I was running through the wastegrounds, and then the world just...sort of...fell apart around me. I had to keep going, though I don’t know how or why. But I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, and the world went white and then...I found myself here. Waking up on the edge of a forest a few dozen miles away. No armour, no beads, barely any power but...still alive.”

Simeamon crossed her legs. “So you arrived before the new world was made. Before all the-“

She clamped her hands over her mouth, and looked away from Martyaxmon’s tired gaze. He stared for a moment, before readjusting himself again. “I haven’t been back since. Whatever rift there was, it didn’t stay very open for very long. Even when I’ve stumbled across a portal, I was too large to force my way through.”

He swallowed, and padded the ground in front of him.

“And even if I could, I couldn’t bring myself to look upon that world again.”

Simeamon let out a breath. “You seem to be doing alright over here.”

“It has its perks. The air’s clear. And I get the chance to rest.” He stuck his tongue out. “Too many humans, really, but you live with what you can.”

“They’re not all bad, y’know.”

“If you say so.” Martyaxmon reached out, pressing a paw into the remaining embers and putting them out for good. “A few of them destroyed whatever life I had left. Maybe that was the best thing that ever happened to me. But it’s hard not to hate them for what they did.”

“And yet you decided to stay here?”

“I’m hardly in a position to go on a righteous crusade now, am I...” He yawned, ending in a throaty growl. “Come on, that’s enough reminiscing. Go to sleep.”

He turned around, ignoring any further attempts from Simeamon to pry. She watched as he walked in a circle, his feet blackening the ground beneath him, until he curled up and lay down, facing the other way.

Simeamon sighed, lying back and staring up at the stars once again. Her eyelids flickered, and before she knew it, she found herself lost in a world of sovereigns and generals and crusades and battles, fighting for justice under a blazing sun, a long, long time ago.

Lyra stuck her hands in her pockets, pulling her shoulders in as she walked through the cold streets. Despite the bright morning sun up above it was bitterly cold, to the point she was regretting not bringing a proper jacket. She had a hat, but the flimsy material did little to shield the chill.

Not that her primary reason for wearing the hat was the weather. Every time she turned a corner she slowed just a little, glancing up at the rooftops. Every flap of a pigeon made her jump. She felt exposed. Horrendously so.

The plastic bag swung on her arm, containing a multitude of the kind of snacks that Eloise was frequently berating her for. She grumbled to herself. Or at herself. She couldn’t really be sure how she felt, other than the fact that she was seriously debating becoming a hermit and never going outside ever again. A fairly frequent argument she had with herself, and occasionally with Eloise or Kai, who would point out the very real flaw that if she wasn’t going to go out then they weren’t going to pick up any confection.

One must accept great personal risk when one voyages yonder for confection.

There was a clattering above her, and all inner musings suddenly went out the window as she dived back, holding her hands up in front of her face. She stared upwards. Her mind cleared itself, focusing entirely on her senses. Any flash of black, or whistle of feathers. She whirled around, staring at the shop behind her, scanning the rooftop as she reached for her digivice.

“Come on then! Show yourself! You want to carry on where we left off, you...you...”

The rooftop clattered again, and the small red face of Dendromon peered over the top, grasping the gutter with her nubby little hands.

“Lonnie, we’ve got a spy.”

Lonnie’s head joined her partner’s, looking for all the world like a bizarre hand puppet show. She grinned down at Lyra, who merely scowled back. “Oh. It’s you two.”

“Guilty as charged.” Lonned rested an arm over. “Do you wanna come join us? It’s lonely doing this hero thing solo.”

Lyra swung the snack bag back and forth, bunching her shoulders up. “I’m...kind of trying not to get...involved. Really. It’s nothing personal.”

Lonnie stuck her bottom lip out. “I’ve got chocolate matchsticks.”

Down below, the girl peeked inside her own bag, puffing her cheeks out. She’d neglected to get those. It was a fair argument.

“Do you need a lift?”

“Eeep!”

Lyra jumped around, flailing her arms as she caught sight of Tsurumon standing next to the lamppost beside her. She hissed, flapping at him with her arms. “What are you doing? You scared me to death!”

“I’m only keeping an eye on you, as you requested.”

“Well...I...just...keep a watch out, alright. I’m conspicuous enough as it is without having a large paper crane hanging around me.”

Tsurumon looked a tad hurt, shuffling his feet. “You never used to mind.”

“My life wasn’t in constant danger beforehand.” Lyra shivered. “I know Rhyncomon’s watching me. He always was even before I pissed him off. I’m not safe out here.”

“Well...” Tsurumon tilted his head in a thoughtful manner. “If he’s always watching you then surely that means you’re not safe at the house either. Or anywhere.”

“Don’t you logic my safe place into not being safe anymore!”

“You asked.”

Lonnie planted her head in her hands from the rooftop, staring down. “You two having fun?”

Lyra looked up, exasperated, before wandering forwards, swinging the plastic bag around her like nobody’s business. “Fine. You want me to get out, you want me to climb onto a roof, you want me to risk my life on a daily basis – you know what, fine, all fine, I hate you all.”

Tsurumon held out a wing, but the young woman was already climbing up the metal stairs on the side of the abandoned shop. She hopped over the gate at the top, and plonked herself down next to Lonnie, who whistled, impressed.

“You do know your stuff.”

“Practise.”

Lyra held out a palm, beckoning the girl beside her. Lonnie held out the box of chocolate matchsticks, and found herself losing a third of them in an instant. Lyra had already gotten through two when there was a flicker of wings in front of her, and she found Tsurumon’s pointed face in her own.

“Now Lyra, what do we say?”

“Where did this come from? What’s Eloise been teaching you?”

“Lyra!”

“...fine...”

The girl turned, and gave Lonnie a perfect and innocent stage smile. “Thank you for your kindness.”

Lonnie laughed, sitting backwards as Dendromon stole a few more matchsticks beside her. “Ah, it’s no problem. I know you get hungry. And I’ll ignore the crane’s stage direction.” She nodded. “Are things going alright?”

“They could be better.”

“I’m sure Kai and Eloise mean well-“

“It’s not them. They’re great. Really.”

Lyra pulled her knees up against her chest, holding a matchstick out the front of her mouth. She noticed Lonnie still watching her, waiting for further discussion, and hurriedly changed the subject. “What about you, anyway? What are you doing clambering around roofs? I did not take you for the type to trespass.”

Dendromon popped her head up. “We’re looking for clues.”

Lyra tilted her head, her hair swinging forwards. “I thought you were helping out those ambassador guys?”

“I am. But we have other things to worry about as well.” Lonnie rested an arm on her knees, looking forwards. “We still haven’t heard hide nor hair from Simeamon, or Owen.”

“Don’t you have a tracker?”

“It’s no good if he doesn’t have his D-SEND. Kevin’s still holding onto it.” Lonnie’s eyes lowered, just briefly. “He was barely letting it go the last time I saw him.”

Lyra gritted her teeth, wanting to pry further, but Lonnie just shook her head.

“We’ve been keeping a look out, but with everything else happening...it just...we need to find them now.” She took in a breath. “I need to bring us all back together...somehow...”

Tsurumon stepped forwards, tapping the rooftop. “Both of them are capable. I’m sure they just need some time-“

“That’s not the point!”

Lonnie’s voice had a harsher edge than she realised, making the crane step back. She smiled apologetically. “They’re part of the team. I don’t know how we fix it, but it’s wrong to just leave it broken. And how are we going to do anything to make peace between humans and Digimon when we can’t even manage it with our own friends?”

Lyra and Tsurumon looked at one another, as Lonnie leant her head on her arm, tapping the rooftop.

“I know we can make things right. I just wish I had any idea where to start.”

She looked sideways, staring into Lyra’s face as the other woman stared ahead, gently munching on matchsticks. After a couple of minutes Lyra looked back, swallowing uncomfortably.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me for. I’m not going to be any good to you.”

“Sure you are. You’re part of the team too.”

“You are too kind, and also a filthy liar.”

Lonnie stuck her bottom lip out, whining under her breath. “I don’t lie. I never lie.”

Lyra sighed, nonchalantly plucking more matchsticks from the near empty box. “I know you’re trying to be nice to me. Everyone is. But I know when things aren’t working out. I can’t be the reliable friend you need me to be; it just doesn’t come naturally to me.”

Tsurumon bowed his head beside her, his dark eye blinking. “Lyra, you don’t need to put yourself down. I’ve seen you; I’ve felt your voice. You can be just as much of a hero as the rest of them-“

“I’ve tried, okay?” snapped the young woman, and she reached up and pulled her hood forwards, scowling into her coat. “I tried back at the beach and I wrecked Inez’s mental state. Then I tried again when the town was under threat and I was just a useless load! All I did was tag along and get beaten up and targeted and it’s just...I can’t do it!” She turned around, her eyes frantic as she stared at Lonnie.

“I want to help; god help me I do. But I can’t do what you guys do. I can’t be who you need. I’m just some nobody who makes people happy with my dumb violin playing, and I can’t even do that anymore.”

She sat back, reclaiming her breath as Tsurumon stared down in shock. “Lyra...you never...”

“Never said anything?” Lyra reached inside her coat, pulling out the small, golden triangle and spinning it in her hand. “It’s not your fault. None of it ever was. I didn’t want to make you feel bad. It’s my failure, not yours.”

A shadow fell across her face, and before she could look up Lonnie had reached forwards and flicked her in the forehead.

“Yowch!”

“That’s quite enough.”

Lonnie sat back, puffing her cheeks out as she looked Lyra up and down. “You are just as much a part of us as anybody. We wouldn’t be without you, no matter what.”

Lyra rubbed her forehead, pouting. “But I keep messing up-“

“So you’ve had a couple of bad days. And? What does that matter? How many thousands of bad days do you think I’ve had?”

Lonnie reached up to her shoulder, gripping it instinctively. “That’s why I need to keep going, always. Because...because of the bad days. Because of the days when I mess up, or I’m not strong enough or fast enough, and other people suffer because of it. Because I need to do my best to fix those bad days. I need to make things right. And that goes for you as well.”

“Lonnie...”

Lonnie smiled. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? You want to help. You found this dumb little group and decided you wanted to stay; that’s more than enough to make you worthy.”

Lyra looked away, but Lonnie grabbed her hand, pulling it out and holding her D-SEND next to Lyra’s digivice.

“What does it matter if these look a little different? Aren’t they both proof that we’ve been given a power to make a difference?”

Lyra felt the warmth in her palm; her own digivice reacting with Lonnie’s, sharing data, sharing power. She looked up, seeing the orange and yellow seeming to reflect off Lonnie’s face as she grinned incessantly, as unbreakable as ever.

She let out a laugh, looking down at the devices again. Something caught her eye, and she pointed. “I think your miraculous gift is trying to tell you something.”

Lonnie frowned, and peered at the domed screen. Lyra snuck a wandering hand out for the last few matchsticks, but she was caught off guard as Lonnie blinked, leaping to her feet.

“Is that...smoke?”

Lyra twisted around, squinting over the rooftops. It took her a moment, but she saw it too; a plume of black smog rising up several blocks over, seeming to grow thicker by the minute.

“Garden bonfire?”

She looked up at Lonnie, and was slightly taken aback by the sudden change in the other woman’s facial expression. Hardened, serious, and focused, almost to an unsettling degree.

“...or trouble...”

The girl reached down in one swift movement, grabbed the last of the matchsticks from the box milliseconds before Lyra could reach them, and practically inhaled them as she leapt for the entry gate to the roof and practically vaulted it. Dendromon and Tsurumon gawped at one another, before the salamander rushed forwards, scrambling up the metal bars.

“Hey, hey wait! Dangit girl!”

Lyra and Tsurumon stood utterly stunned, looking for all the world like they’d just been hit by a freak tornado. Tsurumon cleared his throat. “Are...we going to follow them?”

“After all that nonsense?” Lyra leant back. “I think it might be safer to keep out of her waaAAH that bastard stood on my snacks!”

Tsurumon choked as he tried to stifle his laugh, but his partner was on her feet in a second, clambering over the gate herself. “ Lonnie! Get back here!”

Tsurumon chirruped amiably. “Shall I catch you up then?”

“LONNIE!”

The crane whistled, enjoying a few seconds of peace on the rooftop. He chuckled to himself, shaking his long beak.

“Lyra, you’re going to be absolutely fine.”

Lonnie powered forwards, slipping a little on the concrete as she darted into the next available alleyway, with Dendromon bounding along behind her. “You really...hegh...need to slow down on these decisions...”

“Whatever this is, Dendromon, it doesn’t look healthy.” yelled Lonnie, looking down into the circular screen as the faint glow spread out further. “If someone’s in trouble, I need to be there.”

Lonnie turned a corner, not even noticing Lyra standing just ahead of her, waving her hand manically. “Stop right there, woman! You owe me!”

“No time! I have to-“

Lonnie’s head turned sideways, and she jolted upright, something catching her eye. She skidded to a stop, but Dendromon was slightly less gifted in this regard, as she skidded forwards and barrelled into Lyra’s legs. The young woman hit the ground with a wet thud, as Lonnie pointed down the turning.

“That...doesn’t look particularly normal.”

Lyra pushed herself up, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. They had reached the edge of one of the suburbs, with just outside one of the town’s primary schools. It was fairly unpopulated, having been closed due to the riots. But the large sweeping flames coming out the top and the acrid smoke pouring down the streets did little to indicate it was business as usual.

Lonnie walked forwards, no longer looking at her D-SEND, and instead focusing on the lone figure in the middle of the road, facing away from her, with a flaming sword in his hand and a purple cape billowing out behind him. Lonnie swallowed, pocketing her D-SEND.

“Hello there.”

She walked forwards, with Lyra and Dendromon edging along behind her, down the centre of the street as the heat from the fires lashed out at them. They got closer to the Digimon, who was taller than he seemed at a distance, a good ten feet at least. He had long sandy hair under a pointed hat, and as his cape flicked up the trio could see burnished red, gold and silver garments covering his body, and a glowing crystal ball in his right hand. But as they got closer, his head tilted. He turned, looking down at them with bright turquoise eyes.

Lonnie stopped, holding up her device as it came up with the Digimon’s information.

“Mistymon. Ultimate level. Witchelny.”

She swallowed, and looked around at the burning playground. “You look a little lost. Can we help you?”

Mistymon blinked, and swayed to the right a little, rocking on his feet. “So they keep coming for me.”

“Lonnie, look!”

Lyra grabbed the other girl’s arm, and they both saw the gathering of people at the edge of the playground, hemmed in by the fence. Some of them were standing in front, arms out, keeping themselves between the sorcerer and the people behind. But Lonnie could see yet others behind them. Still. Unmoving.

She whirled back, her eyes blazing as she glared up at Mistymon. “What the HELL are you doing here?”

“Hell...”

Mistymon’s eyes widened, and his body shifted in an instant, his voice low and calculating.

“This must be my hell. My penance. But I won’t...no, I can’t. I can’t let them break me. I won’t. I won’t ever!”

“Lonnie, look out!”

“Blast Fire!”

The magical warrior moved with a fluid motion, his flaming sword arcing downwards towards the girl before she could fully comprehend it. Lyra lunged forwards just in time, flinging her body into the other tamer’s as the sword struck the concrete. It blew apart, sending the both of them skidding away across the tarmac.

Lonnie shuffled back, leaning over Lyra as the other girl rolled over, trying to extinguish the flames adorning her clothes as she coughed up ash and smoke. Lonnie pulled her to her knees, but the scraping sound made her jerk upwards as Mistymon pulled his sword free from the road, turning his gaze back towards her.

“Demons...nothing but...demons...”

“Lyra, hurry-”

“It...hurts...Blast Fire!”

“Folded Wing!”

With a whistling sound Tsurumon descended from above, spinning his wings as the edges shimmered in the light. But Mistymon was fast even in his unsteady state, and he brought the sword up, swinging in an arc that intercepted the crane’s swift attack. Tsurumon was blasted backwards with a yell, the air pressure only just shielding him from the worst of the explosion. But he was still immobilised for a few crucial seconds, as Mistymon held his other arm to his shoulder, the crystal ball shimmering with an orange energy.

“Core Dart!”

He lunged forwards, the orb striking Tsurumon in the wing and sending him spinning downwards, crashing in an undignified heap on the ground. He rolled upwards, gasping as the sorcerer marched towards him.

“Lyra...help me...”

“Return to your dwellings, demon, I won’t let you take me! Blast Fire!”

“Pyro Spires!”

The flames erupted in Mistymon’s face, flooding his vision with white and yellow. Within seconds the newly evolved Andriamon was upon him, tackling him to the ground and grabbing his shoulders as sparks flew from between her teeth.

“Look, buster, you have got to calm down. I’m serious!”

“Demons...”

Mistymon swiped upwards, but the giant salamander held him down, keeping his shoulders in place. She was about to speak, when she noticed his eyes up close.

Blank, pupilless; a shimmering, vivid turquoise. But somehow more than that. There was a sheen around them; an almost liquid, white glow, surrounding the irises, giving him a crazed, bestial expression. Andriamon swallowed, her grip faltering.

“You’re...you’re possessed...”

“I will not succumb! I am an honourable soldier of the Fire Kingdom! You will never suppress me! ”

Sparks flew from Mistymon’s eyes as he contorted his body, pulling his legs in and driving them hard into Andriamon’s chest. The salamander choked, and Mistymon reared back and slammed his crystal ball beneath her chin. White light exploded in her vision, and she rolled sideways, Mistymon landing a spinning kick in the side of her jaw for good measure.

She fell, stunned and vulnerable, as Mistymon crouched beside her, holding his sword with one hand.

“You...you are tainted...you are an abomination...”

“Andriamon, get back!”

Mistymon raised his sword, but his arm jolted to a halt as spiral ribbons coiled around his wrist. He looked up as the newly-evolved Orizumon spread his wings above him, golden light emanating from beneath.

“Regal Spinner!”

The crane twisted, his wings rippling as the attack bound Mistymon further. But the warrior was focused even in his madness, and rolled with the motion, grasping the coils and pulling downwards. Orizumon spun sideways, right towards Mistymon’s swinging arm as he raised the flaming sword. The crane folded away in a millisecond, the burning metal slicing the thin skin of his back before he reformed.

Mistymon didn’t give up; he flung his sword from side to side, sending waves of fire up at the crane. Orizumon dodged for his life, barely able to get even within ten metres. Mistymon smiled, the slight burst of fire flickering out from between his teeth.

“This is good...this is as it should be...this is the good world...”

He flinched, twisting around as Andriamon leapt forwards behind him, slamming a palm into his shoulder. He braced himself in time, holding up his sword as Andriamon swiped again, the blade digging into her flesh. She grunted, but kept going regardless, bending the weapon downwards until she freed her right leg, which shot out into Mistymon’s face. He went down, and she was on him in a second, driving his shoulders into the concrete as her eyes flicked backwards behind her.

“This guy is gonna cause more trouble. We can do without the audience.”

Lyra started, frozen just for a few seconds. There was the sound of footsteps behind her, and she turned to see Lonnie rushing towards the crowd of people, gesturing wildly at the gates.

“It’s all okay, everything’s under control! But you need to get out of here!”

A few of them were already moving, and Lonnie was fast, helping up the ones who were less mobile as she gathered them away. Lyra watched the whole thing from a distance, taking a step, then holding back. She bit her tongue, feeling her hands shaking.

“You’re...you’re still so far ahead of me...”

“The HUMANS!”

Lyra jumped, turning sideways as she saw Andriamon rocking back and forth, Mistymon struggling in her grasp. The mage raised his head, his eyes wide and staring ahead.

“They are the blight. They block the path to this perfect world. I...I will...I must purge them! ”

He thrust an elbow back, clocking Andriamon in the chin. She hissed, her muscles straining.

“You need a goddamn timeout.”

“Take your hands off me! Blast Fire!”

Mistymon swung upwards, the flames licking the side of Andriamon’s face. She gasped, feeling a sudden stabbing pain in the side of her face, and brought her hand up to her crest, which was now missing a significant piece. Mistymon took the chance, leaping up and striking the salamander down with a crushing blow to her neck. He landed on his feet, and immediately began to sprint, focusing entirely on Lonnie. A shadow fell over him from above, followed by Orizumon’s keen cry.

“Lethal Edge!”

“Core Dart!”

Mistymon flung his crystal ball upwards, the orb splintering into shards of light and blasting Orizumon back. He recovered quickly, twisting his body and stabbing downwards towards the flowing purple cape.

But he hit nothing but air, crashing into the ground. Lyra was already running, holding a hand out as Mistymon charged forwards, holding his sword two handed and trailing flames behind him.

“LONNIE, WATCH OUT!”

The young woman turned, and her eyes met Mistymon’s as he dragged the blade forwards, mere feet from her. She stepped back, and fell down herself, seeing her face reflected in the swinging blade.

“Blast Fire!”

“Royal Flint!”

The clang resounded over the scorched playground. Lonnie landed with a jolt, feeling the heat from the sword, but not the pain of the killing blow.

She shuffled backwards, staring up at Mistymon’s sword, which was entangled in a chain of blue beads, held in place by some magical force.

The mage’s eyes widened, and he withdrew his sword, turning sideways as Martyaxmon rushed forwards, slamming him backwards with a muscular paw. He stumbled, and the manticore landed cleanly, pulling the chain of beads back around his body, where they circled around like moons. He glanced backwards, seeing Lonnie on the ground.

“Are you hurt?”

The girl shook her head, although her hand the scrape on her elbow where she had hit the ground.

“Who are you?”

“My commander...”

Martyaxmon tensed, and turned back towards Mistymon, who had dropped his sword in shock, staring at the red beast. His mouth split open in a smile, and in an instant he fell forwards, bowing low to the ground.

“I...I knew there was still a chance...you came for me...this world...this world can still come to pass...”

There was a hush over the battleground. Andriamon limped forwards, a confused expression on her face. Lyra stood beside Orizumon, holding onto his tattered wing. The crane merely stared ahead, his beak shut tight and his eyes narrowed.

Martyaxmon let out a long, low breath, watching the magical warrior bowing before him.

“Get up.”

“My commander, I’ve done your work, I did as you asked-“

“I told you to get UP!”

Mistymon flinched. He got up off his knee, looking ahead at the manticore, his sword hanging loosely in his grip. He swallowed.

“Have...haven’t I done enough? Are you displeased?”

Lonnie held out an arm, but the dangerous aura emanating from the manticore gave her pause. Martyaxmon’s eyes looked the warrior up and down, a gentle growl emanating from his throat.

“I’m no commander of yours anymore. You’re not my soldier. Stand down right now.”

“...commander?”

Mistymon’s voice was pathetically small, as he crouched, raising a palm to his eye. His lips quivered, his voice breaking.

“I don’t understand...the new world...the good world...”

“The good world...”

Martyaxmon looked down, the beads swirling around him.

“The good world doesn’t exist. It never did. If...if you were one of my soldiers...then the cause you were fighting for was wrong.” His paws tensed, digging into the tarmac. “Please...stand down...”

Mistymon’s shoulders were heaving. He pressed his palm against his eye, rubbing it, digging his fingers into the skin. Martyaxmon could see the sparks flickering out from behind it. He took a tentative step.

“I know those scars. I know your pain, and your drive. But those days are over. The fact that...that you’ve survived this long...you can fight this affliction. Like I did, before it destroyed me from the inside out. You can do the same.” The manticore held his teeth together. “Please, as...as your commander...stand down. The war is over.”

The mage stood still, save for his hand, rubbing over his face and wiping one spark after another away from his eyes. Martyaxmon swallowed. There was nothing behind them; not the leaching influence that had terrified him so long ago. But the scars it had left were all too evident. A soldier broken. A mind full of holes.

“It’s...it’s...wrong.”

Mistymon dug in, and he hunched over, gripping his sword even more. Martyaxmon’s hackles rose, and he spread his feet out, the scorpion tail swinging behind him.

“Please...I beg you...”

“A commander who begs...no...no, this is...this is wrong...the corruption is spreading...”

Mistymon lowered his hand, the turquoise of his eyes shining again as flames spat out from the edge.

“You were my hope! My honour! How...how could you make me fall? Not you. Not you. ANYBODY but YOU!”

Mistymon screamed, and ran forwards, flames bursting from the metal of his sword as he swung downwards.

“BLAST FIRE!”

The juggernaut of flame sliced forwards, hitting Martyaxmon from the front before he could dodge. He rode it out instead, the beads moving in a chain in front of him and carrying the flames away, but the blast was just the initial onslaught, and the manticore found himself moving backwards as Mistymon was upon him, slashing back and forth with increased rage.

“I gave you EVERYTHING!”

Martyaxmon dodged, and whipped out with his bead chain, yanking Mistymon’s leg away. The mage fell downwards, rolling out of the way of Martyaxmon’s tail, before slicing sideways with an arc of flame that caught the old commander in the neck. He began to run, but Martyaxmon kept pace, trying to corral him backwards as blasts of crimson fire burst out from his feet.

Mistymon changed tack; swinging his left arm around and thrusting his crystal ball into Martyaxmon’s side. The blast billowed out, and the manticore went down with a roar, hissing as the beads swarmed around the wound. He saw the glint in the mage’s eye, and brought up the wall of beads.

But he misjudged it, the beads breaking apart before him. It had taken years to reform them, and they were still smaller than his original chain. Less battle-hardened.

The energy didn’t lock in place correctly, and they merely scattered with the blow, sending him skidding back. He growled, digging his tail into the ground as he stared up at the obsessed mage. Mistymon was still talking, flames falling out from his mouth as he jabbered.

“How could you do this to me? How could you betray me?”

Another arc of flame, which Martyaxmon deflected with his tail. “I was blind! It was my responsibility to protect you, and instead I led you astray! I’m sorry!”

“Led...led me astray...? You...you alone gave me life! You gave me a purpose!”

“The purpose I gave you was WRONG!”

“NOOOOOO!”

Martyaxmon raised a paw as the mage rushed forwards, holding the blade behind him as the fire swirled around him. The manticore took a step back, gauging the distance as he gathered energy around his paws, preparing to strike.

But his gaze fell upon the maddened look in Mistymon’s eyes – that same, white, furious aura – and the manticore hesitated.

“Blast Fire!”

The sword came around, striking Martyaxmon in the horn. He gasped, the blow from the hefty blade sending him lurching sideways, but Mistymon redoubled on the return strike, thrusting the blunted weapon into his front leg. It dug in, ripping the muscle and sending him crashing down, the beads scattering around him. Martyaxmon raised his head, only for Mistymon’s boot to strike him again, forming white spots in his vision.

The mage staggered back, holding a palm over his face as his own vision flicked in and out of focus. His trembling eye pointed down, scanning the manticore.

“You...you can’t be him...my commander...he was never this weak...this pitiful...just demons...all of you...my torment...my hell ...but I won’t...I won’t...let you take me...”

His arm raised again, and he swung his arm round, wielding the blade like a cleaver as he aimed for the stunned manticore’s still form.

“I WON’T let you VIOLATE my PURPOSE, DEMON!”

“Cyber Strike!”

The orb of light struck Mistymon in the side of the head, exploding and throwing off his swing. He swayed, and glared sideways at Simeamon, as she blew smoke off the end of her glove. She turned, glaring at the manticore.

“Oi, Mittens, get your head in the game! You don’t owe this jerk anything!”

“Simeamon...” The manticore growled, trying to push himself to his feet. “Damnit...I told you to stay hidden...”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been good at doing what I was told.” The monkey humphed, before addressing her scorn up at Mistymon as he twisted towards her.

“Listen, Wizzo, I don’t know what kind of deal you had in the past but Marty here is trying to actually improve himself a little and you’re not helping that whatsoever, so, y’know, kindly fuck off with your ‘you were my life, my soul, my one true love, punish me daddy’ bullcrap.”

Mistymon’s eye twitched, and he brought his left hand round, revealing the orb of energy balled in his palm. Simeamon stuck her lips out.

“Oh bugger.”

“Core Dart!”

The monkey leapt up, grabbing onto the lamp post as the ball flew past her. She scurried upwards, before swinging down, holding on with her tail as she spun her pistol in her hand.

“Shall we start with discussing your unhealthy approach to your problems or do y’wanna move straight onto anger management?”

Mistymon opted for neither, instead swinging his sword at the base of the lamppost. Simeamon wobbled wildly as the whole structure bent sideways, crashing down across the playground with a shattering of metal and glass. She leapt, holding a hand against the ground as she watched the warlock move. He rushed forwards and she ducked, but he thrust an arm back, throwing an arc of fire which knocked her backwards. She skidded to a halt, patting her flaming suit down in front of the struggling Martyaxmon, whistling as she did so.

“Wow, I...really am...slightly out of practise.”

The manticore pushed himself to his feet, shaking out his mane as he glared ahead. “This is my fight...I don’t...need...your help...”

“Well then, you’re probably not gonna want us here either.”

Simeamon looked behind her, unable to stop the smile from breaking across her face as Lonnie and Lyra ran forwards, a little breathless but overall none the worse for wear. Lonnie nodded down at the monkey, who winked back.

“I was wondering when you were gonna kick off this happy reunion.”

“Yeah, well...” Lonnie beamed, placing an arm around Lyra’s shoulders and pulling her in. “We were just helping the audience vacate.”

Lyra squirmed. “Too...too close...”

“Oh god...sorry...” Lonnie leapt back, waving her palms. “Force of habit...”

Lyra broke out in a laugh. “You are impossible. Every single one of you.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I didn’t say that.” Lyra sniffed, and her eyes turned towards the mage in the distance, as he built up his flames again. She felt the wind from behind her as Orizumon flew to the ground, staring forwards. “I think we should probably finish this off quickly.”

Martyaxmon growled. “I told you I didn’t need your help! I don’t want to owe you humans anything!”

Simeamon placed a hand on her hip, looking between the lion and the tamers. She sighed, shaking her head.

“Give it up, Marty. That’s just the kind of people they are. You should know that, right?”

“Words of wisdom from the monkey,” grinned Lonnie, holding her D-SEND up as Andriamon limped forwards beside her. Lyra held up her free hand, the golden triangle spinning in her fingers.

“Let’s finish this.”

“Andriamon, Soul Reverberate!”

“Orizumon, Tamashi no Ongaku!”

“Evolution Activate!”

“Shinka!”

The lights exploded outwards, forcing Mistymon to step back. He gritted his teeth, thrusting his arm forwards and cleaving the blast in two, yelling as he did so.

“You...are all...nothing....but DEMONS!”

“Enough!”

With a crack, a red tail shot out from the light, striking Mistymon in the chest. He bent down, holding his crystal orb up as he saw Eryomon’s vast form unfurl above the bright cloud, holding her crossbow as she stared down at the mage. Senbazumon stood beside her, his windmill over his back as he treaded the wind.

As impressive an image as they cut, it did little to discourage the furious sorcerer. He pulled back, holding his crystal ball against his shoulder and launching it forwards.

“Core Dart!”

The orb shot outwards, catching Eryomon in the side before she could fully dodge. She hissed, descending to all eights as she lashed out with her tail again, scuttling away. Mistymon thrust his blade down in an arc of fire, before bringing it round again as he saw the golden lights of Senbazumon hovering around him. The crane man stepped up, his platforms dissolving just beneath him as he rose up. Lonnie held her breath.

“This guy’s stronger than he’s supposed to be. We’re in trouble.”

“No we are not.”

Lonnie stepped aside as she watched Lyra moving with her digivice, the lance of light protruding from the end like a conductor’s baton. Up above, Senbazumon was following her movements, sending threads left and right faster than Mistymon could slice them. He leapt back, and twisted his arm around.

“Severing Song!”

Mistymon jumped back but landed directly in the snare, the threads catching his arm and wrenching it backwards. He cried out, but his sword arm was still free and he slashed forwards, breaking the threads.

“PERISH!”

He landed, and rushed forwards, his sword glowing as Senbazumon brought out his windmill. The weapons collided, and Senbazumon used the advantage to step backwards into the air, kicking Mistymon in the head as he did so. The sorcerer lunged upwards, but another volley of threads held him, leaving him suspended a few inches above the ground. He twisted, spit flying from his mouth in fury, but he only found himself turning towards Eryomon as she held up her shining weapon.

“Infernal Ballista!”

The bolt flew forwards in a spectacular arc, unravelling into the beam of flame and striking Mistymon in the arm. He screamed, the armour and flesh falling away in the blast, and he staggered back, clutching the smoking stump as his melted sword clattered to the ground.

Simeamon watched the whole display, standing just beneath Martyaxmon as she gazed in wonder at the two.

“Geez...these guys make it look so easy...”

Mistymon staggered back, watching between Eryomon and Senbazumon as they hovered back and forth, the energy still bright within them. He stumbled, his leg muscles tense, daring him to run forwards, to keep fighting. But he forced himself to stay. His eyes flicked sideways, the vision blurring, but not so much that he couldn’t make out Martyaxmon’s expression.

He couldn’t quite read it though. Too lax to be fury. It was almost...pity. Or guilt.

“You’ve used that accursed power all up now, haven’t you...”

Mistymon’s head flicked back, glaring up at Eryomon as she held her crossbow down, the shaft steaming. She sighed, and rolled her shoulders, pointing it up once again. “One hit and that’s it. Don’t make me finish it this way. We’re past all that now.”

Senbazumon stepped down, sheathing his windmill and holding out a hand. “ Come on. Let us help you.”

“No...no, no, NO! It’s WRONG. It’s all...just...WRONG!”

Mistymon’s remaining arm flexed, and a new orb reformed in his palm, bigger than any of the others had been. He screamed, holding it high as he aimed at the ground beneath his feet.

“CORE DART!”

Eryomon threw herself in front of Senbazumon as the orb exploded on the ground, sending white shards of fire flying into the road, the buildings, the trees. For a second they were all stunned, only whiteness remaining in their eyes and the harsh ringing in their ears.

Then their senses returned, and the group unfurled. Eryomon tensed her arms, scanning the surrounding playground. But it was fruitless. Mistymon had already disappeared.

“Oh, great.”

Martyaxmon stepped forwards, pressing down against the burning concrete as he grimaced.

“How untidy...”

His nose twitched, and he glared at Lonnie as she wandered forwards. She just stuck her hands behind her head, whistling nonchalantly. The manticore was buying none of it.

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Nobody does. We’re just that generous.” She looked around. “This place might need some work, but all in all not a bad run. Fairly self-contained.”

“I appreciate that.”

“No, thank you. You saved us back there.” Lonnie frowned, and tilted forwards. “Who are you, again?”

The manticore pursed his lips, deliberately not meeting the girl’s gaze. There was a flash of light as Dendromon waddled forwards, scratching beneath her chin. “Déjà vu a little...” She glanced up at Tsurumon. “Should I know him?”

Tsurumon said nothing. He just kept his eyes narrowed, staring icily at the back of the red beast’s head.

“He’s my big fluffy travel partner, that’s who.”

Martyaxmon winced, and Lonnie and Lyra hid a smile as Simeamon bounded forwards, leaping on Martyaxmon’s back and galoomphing her arms around his mane. Lyra placed a hand in her pocket, not even trying to hide the smirk on her face. “You don’t look like you’ve entirely agreed to this arrangement.”

Martyaxmon sighed. “You’re all the same. Stubbornness is your strength.”

“Ignore him. He’s just cranky.” Simeamon sat herself up, smiling over at the two girls. “It’s nice to see you’re all getting on so well.”

“It’s good to see you’re safe, too. We were worried.” She grinned, and held out a hand. “Things have calmed down now a little. You could come ba-“

“Not happening.”

“I didn’t-“

“Lonnie, no!”

The monkey turned around, and the young woman stepped back, seeing the flash across her eyes. Anger, yes. But also fear. Unwavering, and unchanging. Lonnie swallowed, and lowered her hands.

“Owen’s gone.”

Now it was Simeamon’s turn to flinch, her expression tensing up.

“What...you mean he-“

“No, we...we don’t know. There was an incident, just before the riots. He ran away. We can’t find him now.”

“Oh. Right.”

Simeamon lowered her head, staring down into Martyaxmon’s mane.

“Fuckin’ copycat.”

It was a weak attempt at mirth, and was met with reserved silence. Lonnie poked her fingers together.

“We...uh...we know everything.”

Simeamon looked forwards, staring into the red mane in front of her. Lonnie cleared her throat.

“I...I don’t know if you...well...he’s...it’s kind of messed up, at the moment. But we found out everything. About Vex, and...and Owen’s past. There aren’t any more secrets you need to keep.”

“I see. Cool.”

“Just so you know.”

“Thanks.”

The monkey held up an arm, gripping her shoulder as Martyaxmon glanced back. He huffed, and turned on his heels.

“We should be going. I’ll take good care of her. That I can promise.” He lowered his head. “Just do me a favour; please don’t tell anybody you saw me. And avoid me as much as you can.”

“Why?”

“I’m not a good influence.”

Lyra stuck her cheeks out, before turning to Simeamon. “Let me guess. You too?”

The monkey nodded sadly. She gave a quick two-fingered salute, before her charger turned and ran off into the streets, turning and disappearing once again. Lonnie looked sadly down the road, but it was disappointingly empty.

“Huh. I was hoping that would go...better.”

She looked back at her partner with a forlorn expression. Dendromon puffed her cheeks out, still holding a palm against her wounded eye.

“Do you think we’ll see them again?”

Lyra let out a loud sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “Absolutely. You’re all hard people to ignore. You’ll bump into him again.”

Lonnie looked up incredulously. “What’s all this ‘me’ business? You’re one of us now.”

“I request to retain my outsider status while it is convenient.”

“Newp.”

The two young women chuckled together, and began to walk back away from the playground, their backs blissfully turned to the damage. Dendromon walked beside Lonnie, and she gave a pointed look up at Tsurumon.

“Y’know, we might possibly have gotten somewhere a bit quicker if you weren’t giving the lion the evils all the time.”

“I have my reasons.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Do you know him? Is there something we should know?”

“You wouldn’t know. Neither of you were there.”

“And?”

“...it’s probably not my place to say.”

“Oh for the love of...” Lonnie glared up at the sky in an exasperated fashion. “We’re never gonna get anywhere if people keep hiding their mysterious dark pasts. Look where that got us with Owen.”

Tsurumon gave a more pointed look than normal. “That is a fair point.”

Lonnie nodded. “So? How bad is it? What should we know? What’s the grumpy lion’s deal?”

“You won’t like it.”

“Probably not. Spill it.”

The crane sighed, and Lyra leant across and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He raised his head, and spoke quietly.

“Back in the Digital World, a little while ago now...there was a war...”

Martyaxmon sneezed, sniffing as Simeamon leant over his shoulder.

“Bless you.”

The red beast merely grunted. “That’s a bad omen.”

“Everything’s sunshine and rainbows with you, isn’t it...”

“Not at all.” The manticore hid a small smile. “There are perks. Being a fluffy travel companion is far from the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. And there are worse worlds to be stuck in.”

Simeamon grinned, leaning forwards. “See, I told you humans weren’t all bad.”

“Tolerable.” Martyaxmon pressed his teeth together. “Some of them. Tolerable. But I’m still not a fan.”

“You’re a softy at heart, really, aren’t you...”

“Well...” The manticore turned a corner, and a note of nuance came into his voice. “It’s useful to believe in the good of others, once in a while.”

Simeamon turned round, staring up at the cloudy sky as she breathed out. “Yeah. It really is.”

Martyaxmon looked behind him, hearing the wistful sigh and the slight melancholy in her voice. For a moment he considered asking further. Then he decided against it, pausing for a moment to stretch. She turned slightly, and he gave her a reassuring smile.

“Promise me something, alright? Hold onto that belief. It’s hard, and it’s frustrating, but if you lose it, it can take far too long to get it back.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the real fluffy travel companion?”

“Just some friendly advice.” Martyaxmon smiled, purring slightly. “I know you’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I just hope you come up with the answer you need.”

Simeamon puffed her cheeks out, and buried her chin in Martyaxmon’s fuzz, muttering to herself. The manticore wasn’t bothered; he just chuckled to himself, and, with his beads circling around him, he set off once again into the empty streets.

“How unfortunate.”

Fenghuangmon sighed, scratching diligently in her scroll as she stood, out of sight, just behind one of the school buildings. From her vantage point she could make out the extent of the damage to the area; smoking craters, cracks in the concrete, ruined play equipment.

“Still, impressive. A few people injured but no casualties. Not even Mistymon.”

“I told you they were good.”

Fenghuangmon paused, and glanced down at Owen as he crouched next to her, a hood over his head. The phoenix gently curled her writing finger, staring down at the faraway group as they walked further away. “You humans never cease to amaze me. The way you are able to command our kind with such...precision.”

Owen smiled weakly. “Well, some of us are better than others.”

The phoenix blinked. “Didn’t you want to go down and see them before they went? Let them know you’re alive? I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

The young man sat back, dangling a leg over the roof. For a moment he seemed almost dazed. Then he shook his head.

“I couldn’t.”

He pulled himself up, looking up at her with grey eyes.

“After all I’ve done, all the damage, the hurt, the lies – no. I couldn’t. It’s easier for them if I’m gone.” His eyes fell down to his hand, and instinctively he reached for his D-SEND, only to remember that it wasn’t there anymore.

“Especially for Simeamon.”

Fenghuangmon stared down at him with those same piercing eyes, as she mechanically rolled her scroll up, closing it with a click. For a moment she looked as if she was about to ask a question, but she decided against it.

“I’ve seen everything I wanted to. There’s no reason for me to stay.” She held out a hand, gently unfurling the fingers as her wings fluttered. “Shall I take you back with me?”

“Sure.”

There was a slight flap of wings, and moments later, the roof was empty, with only a few burnished feathers fluttering down to indicate anyone had ever been there.