Can you hear me, Ali?

Red patches bloomed and closed in HelMidgarmon’s vision, blocking out the world around him. He pressed down with a single torn wing, and the talons curled, raking up furrows of rubble beneath them. Any sense of feeling had all but gone now; mere grains of dust between his fingers. The world was a void around him. Another crusade. Another nameless obstacle.

And yet he could feel the presence of the single, glowing light.

He turned his head, crystal weeping from his eye sockets, and looked down to see the dust clouds part and Hauhetmon step forwards.

“Can you see me?”

She walked, slowly, calmly, her feet barely resting on the ground below her. From head to toe she glowed, the great rings spinning around her arms and legs, moving with an unimaginable power. It didn’t matter that she was limping, or that she sported great gashes in her shoulders and waist. She was standing above it all.

The angel paused, her sceptres bouncing gently up and down in her palms. She looked up, her expression confused. Then it broke slightly, becoming gentler. A child’s face, staring up at the man she admired, and the father she loved.

“We can stop this.”

She reached out with her free hand, her palm upturned in a hopeful gesture, even as HelMidgarmon turned towards her. His eyes stared in the same haunting manner as always. Not dead, but weary. Terse, and piercing, and withered by time. A warrior fighting for far too long.

And Hauhetmon knew what she’d known with every step, as the leviathan’s gentle response seemed to echo through her.

I can’t.

Not anymore.

With the sound of the sky tearing apart, HelMidgarmon lunged forwards, releasing waves of lightning and a storm of crystal shards. They spiralled towards Hauhetmon, but she moved before they hit, kicking off from the ground in a veil of flame. Her feet danced across the storm as she spun her sceptres, one in each hand, and glowing with a warm, white light.

“Solaris Sceptre!”

She threw one forwards, the spear curving with the arc of the storm, and embedding itself into HelMidgarmon’s throat. A cascade of flame billowed out, but HelMidgarmon didn’t feel a thing. He spun, and a wing sliced through the wall of energy, sending Hauhetmon tumbling sideways in a flurry of mist. She spun her other weapon, the fog pulled into a spiral before her, before it blasted backwards, following a spiralling beam of sunlight as the second sceptre shot forth.

The angel fell, trailing drops of data above her as she held her arms wide. Lightning strafed her arms, tearing the skin, and she winced, before bringing them together. There was a flash of fire, and the twin sceptres returned in a blazing inferno, trapping the dragon in a fiery typhoon. Hauhetmon caught the weapons, and kicked upwards, before thrusting them to the side again.

HelMidgarmon’s head jerked up, and the angel was blindsided as his tail shot from out of nowhere, crashing into her like a meteorite. She careered through the air, the internal pain lashing out at her, trying to immobilise her. But she fought through it, holding out her arms and descending into a spin.

She flew, a living beam of fire whipping past the talons and crystals that came for her, incinerating the ones that got too close. In a bright flash she rose up, and her arms stretched sideways as the air itself warped in a circle over the wyvern’s head.

“Shard of Eternity!”

The sky opened up, a million points of light descending as a million arrows of flame, falling upon them both. HelMidgarmon screeched, writhing as the bone and crystal were shredded. But in an instant the torn fibres reached back, winding together again with a faint green glow.

He turned, and Hauhetmon was caught in the crosswind, splinters of bone tearing across her waist. She clenched her fists, the holy rings spinning all the faster as her internal heat rose to critical levels.

And her mouth curled up, ever so slightly, and she laughed under her breath.

“You can see me, can’t you...”

It was a tiny voice. Lost in the roaring flames and the rending shards and the ripping lightning. But Hauhetmon spoke all the same, and every word took more out of her than HelMidgarmon’s assault could ever manage.

“You’re watching me, aren’t you? I was the one you were depending on. Your special one. That was always right, wasn’t it...”

She swung forwards, holding out a sceptre as it sliced through ribs and into the void beyond. It reached out, coiling around her and stopping her movements, and she was blasted away, choking and spluttering.

“It was always going to be me.”

“I mean...of course it was.”

“It’s what I always wanted. To be a hero.”

HelMidgarmon rose up in a rush of debris, catching Hauhetmon in a maelstrom of spinning crystals. She held her arms up, the stones tearing her flesh, burrowing deeper into the dozens of wounds she’d already sustained.

“That’s your fault, you know that?”

She threw her arms sideways, the flaming spears erupting from her palms. The storm blew away in a whirlwind of cinders, but it was replaced by the wyvern himself, lunging forwards with the front talons of his wings. One of them found its mark, digging into Hauhetmon’s chest as she barely held it away from her heart. She gritted her teeth, blood falling from her mouth, before pushing back with all her might. The talon cracked, shook, and exploded in a mass of flame, sending HelMidgarmon reeling.

Hauhetmon rose up, holding her hand over the hole in her chest, her eyes half-closed.

“You believed in me. You trusted me. When I was broken on the ground, you lifted me up. You’re the one who allowed me to fly.”

She flew. She danced up, up into the sky, with flames falling down around her. HelMidgarmon raised his wings, and took off himself, the air shimmering beneath him with a new energy. But Hauhetmon turned round, swinging her arms and directing the bolts away.

“I wanted to show you. I wanted to prove you were right...that you could be proud...that I could really be the hero you always told me I was...I wanted...”

She raised her arms as flames flew up before her, cascading out towards the rising dragon. He beat his wings, trying to power through it, but Hauhetmon’s rings spun all the faster and the flames burned hotter. The power doubled back, and the angel flew higher still, watching the flames fan out beneath her. HelMidgarmon was crouched on the ground, his body scorched and blackened by the holy fire. He looked up, his eye shuddering as he roared his echoing, melancholic cry.

Hauhetmon paused. She drew her arms in, looking at her palms as they glowed white hot, the energy breaking her own skin.

She closed them, and her voice drew down to a whisper.

“...I never wanted to see you like this...”

The air cracked, and she suddenly found herself falling, the air turned to vacuum around her. Then thrown backwards, and smashing against the broken wall as lightning struck her in the chest. Again and again, HelMidgarmon crawling forwards on hooked talons, releasing arc after arc of the devastating energy. Hauhetmon took every blow, barely keeping her arms before her, until she finally threw them apart again, releasing a torrent of flame into the wyvern’s face.

But the torrent was pierced, and HelMidgarmon’s talons broke through, crashing into her. She was sent spinning backwards, rolling over the debris with sickening crunches, until she hit a wall once again.

“I...I just...wanted...to save you...”

She heard the scraping noise and felt the tremors coursing through her, exacerbating the searing pain all the more. She looked up, and noticed the bright lights of the digital gate, dancing and flickering. When she’d seen it for the first time so long ago she could never have imagined it would lead her here, staring at her own doomsday as he crawled further on broken limbs.

She laughed gently, her eyes glistening with bright fire.

“I still do. I’m still holding back. I know I am.”

She crouched forwards, and ran the back of her hand over her mouth, feeling the burning heat of her own blood on her skin.

“Is that wrong? Is it so selfish to want to save you? After everything you’ve done...everyone you’ve tried to save...even your own partner...it’s not fair.”

With a burst of anger she slammed her palm on the ground, and the dust fell apart as it ruptured. A geyser of flame burst upwards from beneath HelMidgarmon’s feet, searing through the bone of his shoulder and causing him to stagger. Another pyre shot upwards. And another one, and another; a cataclysmic display rising up into the sky and raining down on the dragon.

And in amidst the firestorm, Hauhetmon rose to her feet herself, her heels letting off sparks. She held out her palms, and the two spears flew back to her grasp, the arrowheads shining like the sun as she stared at the approaching dragon.

“You’re a good man. You don’t deserve any of this. You never did.”

She leapt, running on sparks as she rose up into the air, ignoring the searing pain through her body. HelMidgarmon saw her, and reared up, snapping and lashing out with talons and releasing bolts of the emerald lightning. But still she climbed, and she held her arms outstretched as the pyres rained down around her, crashing into the dragon down below.

Hauhetmon paused. Her hair blew in the swirling heat, as she stared downwards, holding her arrows outstretched. And she glanced sideways, looking over the broken city. Just for a second.

“But neither do they.”

She closed her eyes, and the sounds and sensations quietened just for a moment. Just a single, burning flame, deep within her. Reaching out to every nerve in her body. Calling her.

“They have a future. This world still has a future. Whatever it’s going to bring, whatever you’re protecting us from...it means this is all going to fall on you.”

She opened her eyes, and brought her arms down, the flames drawing back around her as her body glowed more brightly than ever.

“You knew that from the first moment you met him again, didn’t you...or maybe even before that...”

Achingly slowly, she turned in mid-air, her arms following a wide arc as she drew the flames into a symbol in the air. Curving round, then up again, and meeting in the middle. The symbol for eternity.

“And if somebody had to bear this curse...then I’m happy you chose me...”

She drew back, the symbol glowing brightly before her. HelMidgarmon watched from down below, his vast head shaking and crystal dripping from his mouth. He spread his wings out, hooking them against the ground and tensing himself.

And unseen by both angel and dragon, the third figure watched from as close as they could, staying low beneath the fallen rubble. Mira reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out Alasdair’s digivice. Her gloves played around the controls and buttons, her visor never leaving the battle above as she did so.

And then she reached into her other pocket, and pulled out her own.

She held them together before her, feeling the balanced weights in her hands, as the air around her began to shimmer.

Far above, Hauhetmon held her hands out straight, her skirt billowing all around her. The holy rings pulled away from her arms, one after the other, followed by her legs. She let go of the twin sceptres, and they joined the rings, floating away from her on a mystical flame.

Then, letting off an unearthly sound, the great ring pulled away from her back, with the hooked horn floating above it. As it did so, her hair unravelled in a flash of bright gold and burning red, spreading out behind her like a wall of wildfire.

She remained completely still, the rings orbiting around her for a moment. Then they moved, forming a barrier before her; a single golden tube, with the largest in the centre, spinning at an incredible rate. The rod hooked onto the back, and in a burst of energy it expanded, reaching out a great distance either side. Hauhetmon took in a breath, and the relics hummed, entirely attuned to her own internal fire.

With a crack of thunder, HelMidgarmon fired upwards towards the flaming angel; a cacophony of lightning that arced towards her. But the flames just billowed out, dissipating the energy before it could even reach her. Hauhetmon hung motionless, her eyes a pure, brilliant white. Up above her, the sceptres spun together. They twisted, and melded, and fell down into a single, twin-headed arrow, hanging in the midst of the shimmering flames.

Hauhetmon looked down, smiling faintly as she pulled her arms in.

“I’m going to save them all.”

HelMidgarmon moved; he clawed against the dust, and leapt skywards towards the vast flaming ballista as it tilted downwards, the single arrow spinning in the very centre of the greatest ring. But the dragon didn’t slow down. His wings beat against the air, gaining height with every movement, his jaws open and his eye maddened in a bid to strike his opponent from the very sky.

She was still looking down, eyes the purest white. She didn’t react. She didn’t even see where he was.

But someone else did. And down below, Mira raised both devices at once.

“That’s enough.”

There was a wisp of rainbow energy, and in a silent explosion the old gate pulsed. More gates dotted open around it; tiny novas, the largest no bigger than a football, and fully controlled as the renegade’s hands worked over the devices in unison.

Until within a second there was a lattice of light behind HelMidgarmon; the tiniest gateways from all over the digital world, all reaching out and calling him back. Hundreds of them, all beckoning at once.

And he stalled. He could feel the grip, holding him in place, trapping him. He couldn’t turn around, nor could he move forwards.

His eyes swivelled forwards, watching Hauhetmon as she raised an arm to the heavens, the flames billowing from her body and forming great spiralling patterns against the sky. They twisted, forming a silhouette. A great armoured figure, hanging in the air, horns curving around him and flaming gauntlets clutched over the hilt of a vast flaming sword. Hauhetmon hovered in the centre, dwarfed by the energy she wielded.

The rings collapsed in front of her, and the rod pulled forwards, pulling every single spark from around her, and from within her, drawing the energy out into a supernova that hovered in space. Then down further still, to within the very head of the arrow, spinning faster and faster, and Hauhetmon’s body shook, dulled and drained by the sheer scale of the energy drawn from her.

The dragon raised his head, stars gathering in his throat as he prepared to annihilate her.

But, somewhere deep within his crystallised mind, something flickered. Recognition. A star in the eye of the great flaming spirit above him. An old friend.

For a moment, he hesitated.

And Hauhetmon opened her eyes wide as the full power of a sun burst forth from her body.

“Dante’s Atonement!”

She brought her arm down, and the ballista fired before her. It collapsed in seconds, the rings cracking and disintegrating, and the rod splintering, and the sheer force of the shot drawing the very breath out of her. But the single arrow was sent forwards, spinning through the air.

The battlefield was silent, and the sky was darkened, the bolt drawing everything inside; sound, and light, and life.

It pierced HelMidgarmon right in the centre of his head, disappearing in an instant. There was only a small, faintly glowing hole to signify it had been there.

And everything went still.

Until the shaking began.

The blow coursed through him. A wave of flame, searing every ounce of feeling he had left. He curled up further, his mind racing, fighting, rejecting it. No. It couldn’t end. He couldn’t let go. Not now. Not after all this time. He had to. He had to.

He had to…

He opened his eyes.

For a moment, there was only darkness. The swirling void around him, only etched with orange light now. It lapped at his body, and the flames pulled away at the old scales. He curled up, hiding further away.

But the flames remained. He watched. He stared as they twisted together, forming the shape of a figure. The same as before; vast, grand, armoured and strong. Then the armour fell away, and the sword became a dagger glowing brightly in the darkness, and he was looking at his friend, his oldest friend, once again.

Arimon smiled, his body made of starlight as he held out a hand.

That’s enough, Wyvermon.

You can rest now.

And suddenly the darkness fell away, and Wyvermon tumbled and rolled, feeling returning to his body as it did so. The chasm flowed freely, tumbling down into the very depths of the vessel that had formed around him.

He choked, and shuddered, his mind racing and his body in agony. He clawed at the ground, calling for someone, anyone, tears coursing down his muzzle. Help me. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t go on. Someone…anyone…Ali-

And he found himself in a pair of impossibly thin arms, and they held him tightly, protecting him against the flow of chaos.

Wyvermon’s eyes fluttered as the dream finally ended, and he looked up into the harrowed, smiling face of his best friend.

“Alasdair…it’s you…”

The man didn’t move. Wyvermon reached up, wanting to brush the tears from his face, but his own arm was ignoring him. He looked down, and saw the scales falling away, forming nothing but light below him. There was nothing left of him. Only a mirage. And even that was fading.

“……what have I done……:

He tried to pull back, looking away, not looking the old man in the eye. But Alasdair didn’t let go. Impossibly slowly, he reached out, pulling the dragon further into a weak, yet complete embrace. Wyvermon looked up, and saw the tears in his partner’s eyes, the man’s face crumpled in pure joy.

“I’m…so happy…I got to see you…just once more…”

Wyvermon caved. His body fell forwards, and nestled in Alasdair’s lap, and the man curled up, no energy left to move. They sat there, the seconds getting longer as the crystal corridors began to glow, and blazing cracks began to form within them.

The dragon swallowed, his claws holding onto his partner’s hand.

“I can’t hold it anymore. I can’t keep it sealed.”

“…I know…”

“You know, Ali. You know…how dangerous…it was…”

The man smiled sadly.

“I know. It’s up to them now.”

“…Ali…”

“…I won’t…leave you…”

The man’s lips were barely moving now. His hands remained locked around his partner, no energy left to move. He could feel a tingling beneath him, as the world shifted around him, crystalline walls turning to black and orange, and the tremors roaring all the more as the flames burst through into the very core.

“Lonnie…thank you…”

An almighty crackling filled the air, as the green crystal fell in chunks from HelMidgarmon’s body, leaving crevasses licked with flame. He writhed, out of control. A hissing sound came from his mouth as the green was tinged with blazing orange, bursting from his joints. Bones crumbled, falling as ash as he began to sway and tilt.

Hauhetmon hung before him, watching every movement. Her arms hung limply by her sides, and her body glitched, the flames within her all but drained. Only the faint fire remained in her eyes, which remained fixed on the mighty serpent.

His gaze was fixed towards her as his body began to crumble, great geysers of fire erupting from beneath him, breaking off charred bones and shattering emeralds. She watched his eyes as they shook, lights bursting through the veins as it glowed the most intense blue, the cloud lifting, just for a second.

Then they faded, the corneas growing opaque. And HelMidgarmon fell.

For a moment there was silence. Only the faint rush of air as it whipped past him, pieces of his body cracking off and burning up in the air.

Then he landed, and his body collapsed in on itself, and the world was set alight.

The shockwave spread out for miles around; tremors coursing through the ground, the ground caving in around the impact zone. A tsunami of flame billowed upwards, raising clouds of burning ash and fire into the sky, and the air was filled with a deafening roar as the last of HelMidgarmon’s energy was released at once.

Hauhetmon could see the flames rising up to meet her. She raised her palms, but she knew there was nothing she could do.

And the waves hit her, and she was lost in the storm.

She rolled and tumbled, round and round as the blast scraped away at her digital form. She felt herself rising, blinding lights flashing past her eyes. Then a second of calm, held in space, before she began to fall, and her body heated up from the bright energy and she could feel her vision going dark and the breath being pulled from her chest.

Is this the end, she thought.

Would it be a good place to end.

She felt something clutch at her heart.

A tiny, warming light, still beating, still breathing.

Not yet.

She struck the ground like a missile, and fell backwards, the blast front covering her in charred dust and rolling ash, debris flying past her. She held her eyes shut, the flames gathering round her as she clawed at the earth.

Then, miraculously, the roaring died down in her ears and the feeling returned to her skin. A faint tingle at first, followed by a raw and burning pain.

Lonnie coughed, and choked, bringing up black dust as she scrabbled blindly in front of her. Her body was on fire, everything aching and everything burning. She tried to open her eyes, but they stung and pierced her head with every movement.

“Dendromon...Dendromon...where are you...”

She rolled forwards, feeling sharp particles beneath her hands as she reached out. Her eyes were open, but still blinded, a mass of white and black and grey blurring before her, still agonisingly painful. But she ignored it, crawling forwards, muttering her partner’s name over and over again.

“...Lonnie...”

The girl took a breath as her arms closed around a small, newt-like creature, and she grabbed it and pulled it close, looking down. The blur in her vision swum, and she blinked, again and again, ignoring the pain. And she found herself looking down at Dendromon’s face, marred with grazes and dust. She was already unconscious.

Lonnie looked down for a moment, down on her knees as she felt the ash digging into her. Her own hands were trembling uncontrollably, locked around the salamander, skin ripped and red-raw. All the way up her arms, and over her legs. She could feel bones shifting inside her with every movement, and her clothes were in tatters.

Something landed on her bare shoulder, and she gasped, feeling the heat. The girl looked up, watching as the glowing ashes fell down around her, the dust beginning to clear. As it did so, the broken mask of HelMidgarmon was revealed, his eye sockets hollow. There was a faint sheen over his body, the data already beginning to fall away. Not into the static quicksilver, but floating up in glowing particles of light, as the atmosphere of the digital world hung heavy around the battleground.

“...I...I did it...”

The words fell out of her mouth on their own, talking to nobody. She felt her mouth turn up, and laughed, just a little.

“Did I do okay? Did...did I make you proud...”

Her hands were numb, holding her partner as she stared ahead. She could feel her mouth spreading further and further apart, the muscles in her jaw and her neck locking up.

“I’m...I’m sorry...I’m sorry I couldn’t...say goodbye...properly...”

The words were little more than a whisper, and they gave way to chokes. Lonnie’s shoulders convulsed, the movement blocking her throat. And they grew more, utterly uncontrollable, and she felt tears coursing down her cheeks as she sobbed out again.

“...I’m so sorry...Ali...please come back...I...I’M SORRYYYYY!”

And the girl threw her head back and screamed. A broken, animal howl to the heavens, bellowing from her throat and echoing all around. She couldn’t see, or hear, or do anything else. She just screamed, and the tears gushed down her cheeks and all around her as she knelt helplessly in front of the leviathan’s still corpse.

Far away, out of sight and sound and obscured by the ash, Mira watched from behind the rubble. Her coat was scorched and torn by the blast, and there was a crack in the visor of her helmet. But she was still standing, and she looked up from the crying girl towards HelMidgarmon’s slowly dissolving head.

“You’ve raised a fine tamer, Ali.”

She held up a hand, holding Alasdair’s digivice in their gloved palm.

Then again, holding up her own device beside it. It was almost exactly the same; scuffed in different places, and more worn around the edges, but a copy in all other aspects. There was a faint glow behind the screen; a few fragments of glittering data held from another time.

“Thanks for your help back there. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, all these years. But I have no choice.”

She looked sadly at Alasdair’s digivice for a moment, before dropping it on the ground. Then she raised a boot, and gently crushed it underfoot, dispersing the fragments in the ash below.

“I hope you’re finally able to rest.”

She turned, and limped away, Lonnie’s cries following them into the whirling dust.

Minutes Lonnie sat there, calling and crying and choking, until her throat was raw and her mouth was aching and she was gasping for breath. But she didn’t stop, and the pain just kept flowing out as the burning embers fell from the sky.

There were footsteps behind her, as the other tamers began to close in, all in terrible states themselves. Mark held Jack in his arms. Inez supported Lyra over her shoulder. Owen and Nicholas limped forwards through the dust, holding several of their partners in their hands, all devolved and barely mobile.

None of them said a word. None of them could say a word. They could only watch HelMidgarmon’s still form before them, and listen to Lonnie’s despairing cries.

Grace knelt down behind Lonnie, and she reached out and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, kneeling down behind the broken girl. The others sat and knelt and lay down all around, and their own emotions welled up. And soon the battleground was awash with the cries and screams and tears of broken warriors, calling out to an empty world, a relentless and unforgiving world.

It was over.

They had finally won.

27^th March 2017

Three weeks later

Sara pushed the door shut, hearing the unsatisfying flimsy click as it did so. She shivered, and pulled her fleece further around her. While she wasn’t one to knock any form of shelter from the elements, there was no denying that these hastily assembled mobile homes weren’t the greatest protection against the tail-end of the winter cold.

She edged past the window, turning the heater up, before glancing outside. Despite the clear and bright sky, the wind was vicious, with signs of snow closing in. The winter didn’t look like it was going subside anytime soon.

Sara’s hand curled a little over the windowsill, feeling the cold ebb through her fingertips.

“It’s at times like this we need each other more than ever.”

The woman turned around, holding a hand against her hip as she did so, and gently walked backwards to a pair of chairs in the centre of the bedroom.

“You all saved us. Saved this world. But I’ve already seen when children like you come back from a war of this scale, and I’ve seen the prices you’ve had to pay. When the threat has gone, that’s when you’re at your most vulnerable. That’s when the damage can spread and you may not be able to see it. You’ve seen and done more than anybody should ever have to face.”

She reached up, gently adjusting her glasses, as she stood quietly. In front of her, Lonnie looked up. Then to the side. Dendromon was bundled in the corner, sucking her lower lip in as her crest fluttered gently. The young woman took in a breath, holding it for a few seconds. Then she let it out again, no words coming.

Sara gently walked around, and sat down on the chair opposite, placing her hands on her knees.

“I can’t offer much, but I know how to listen. I want to help you through this. All of you, one by one. Talk to me, shout at me; tell me everything or tell me nothing. Whatever it is you need, I’m here.”

Lonnie stared at the floor for a few minutes. Her hair hung by her sides, messy and ragtag, barely plaited. Her fingers wouldn’t move in the right way.

She blinked, before raising her head, looking up into Sara Malhotra’s patient face.

“...I can’t think of anything...”

Slowly, methodically, Carrie McMillan folded the clothes over her arms and tried not to hear the awkward, stinted conversations going on in the room above her. With three daughters of interchangeable levels of manicness, she’d somehow managed to get used to following three different train of thoughts at once from a distance.

Not this time though. She couldn’t bear to hear it. The utter lostness in her eldest daughter’s voice.

“Mrs McMillan?”

Carrie turned to see Sara standing in the doorway, clutching her bag beneath one arm. She joined the woman as she headed towards the front door.

“Is she going to be okay?”

The older woman paused, looking down at the ground.

“She didn’t say much. She’ll need time. And support.”

She looked up, adjusting her glasses as she looked painfully into Carrie’s eyes.

“I think you all will. Please...look after yourselves. And call me any time you need me.”

“Of course. Thank you for all you’ve done.”

Sara pulled her coat around her as she walked onto the pavement towards her taxi. “I’m just doing what’s right. I’m sure it’s what Alasdair would have wanted. He was a good man.”

“One of the best I ever knew.”

Carrie watched as the retired counsellor got slowly into the taxi, and it drove off into the new suburb. She closed the door, and leant back against it, sighing. She could feel tears stinging her eyes, but didn’t wipe them away for several seconds, her hands feeling distant.

The clothes were going to have to wait. She needed a moment. She wandered through the main room, stepping over sleeping bags as she did so, and leant against the counter of the kitchenette, staring out at the tarmac beyond.

Carrie, like many people alongside her, had watched from the distance as the great dragon fell to the ground. The release of energy had lit up the sky and splintered the clouds, and had shaken the ground for miles around.

When they could move, when they were sure that it was never going to get up again, the groups had organised in an instant, to find anyone who might have been left. It took a day and a half, but it was a local community officer who had found the tamers and their partners, huddled together beneath a bridge as the first snow had begun to fall around them. They hadn’t eaten. They had barely slept. All they had managed to do was survive.

Even after they had been brought back, movements had been slow, as it became clear for a great many people that they no longer had homes to go back to. Team after team scoured the town, tearing apart roads and hollow buildings that hadn’t collapsed or been razed by the battle. The digital gates were still present, with the first gate remaining steadfast, still spinning and shimmering against the sky. Not that anybody could reach it anyway, as HelMidgarmon also remained, the dragon’s body too vast and corrupted to just disappear.

The destruction was one thing. The lives were yet another. The evacuations efforts of many meant that the number of casualties had been small. Small, but not nothing. Trapped, caught, refusing to move or relying on help that had never come. A few had been found. Several were still missing. There would be scars left here that would last lifetimes.

But such is the human spirit, and the steps taken by those with the power to do so. Aid had arrived quickly, partially co-ordinated by Salma and Kent, and the powers and finances they were privy to. At first it seemed like it wouldn’t be enough, but the resources kept pouring in; products, people, buildings and transport. Fast, and efficient, and quite often nameless. Clearly Alasdair had made more preparations than he had let on. Again.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the path forwards had begun to take shape. Teams of volunteers were clearing the worst of the damage, human and Digimon alike. Those in the north and the east who had escaped the worst of the destruction were starting to return to their homes, often with several others in tow. And those who couldn’t return were at least in temporary accommodation, pulling together a life with the people around them, from this world or the other.

It was a pathway. But there was a long way to go, and it was very clear that things would never be the same again.

For Carrie in particular, the large red manticore currently laying on the tarmac outside was certainly a hefty reminder of that.

Carrie gently turned the handle, and pushed the door away from her, looking at Anna and Sian as they lay peacefully around him. Sian was lying on his back, her arms wrapped around his pelt. Anna merely sat cross-legged beside, in the process of braiding daisy chains into his beard. Martyaxmon lay completely still, with the eternal look of somebody who had no idea how he ended up in this situation, and more worryingly, no idea how to get out.

He glanced up at Carrie, and she took a cue, stepping out onto the frosty pavement. “Hey, Anna, Sian, come tidy up your bags a little, will you? I’m starting to trip over stuff.”

“Yes mummy.”

The woman was taken aback, watching Anna get to her feet and coax a slightly reluctant Sian off the manticore’s back. They walked past her into the main room, as Martyaxmon let out a long yawn, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Carrie walked slowly up to him, pulling her cardigan around her waist.

“Sorry about them. I hope they weren’t a bother.”

“Not at all.” Martyaxmon shook his beard out, a couple of flower heads falling down. He nodded in the direction of the house. “They’re good children.”

“Sometimes. Quieter and better-behaved than usual...” said Carrie under her breath, and she looked through the window, watching as Anna directed her younger sister around as best as she could.

“Perhaps they know that something’s wrong.”

Carrie turned around, looking into the burnished eyes of the manticore. She still found it a little disconcerting having to look up, as the Digimon was easily the size of a bull. But his face was serene, and his voice was calm and composed. He nodded at the window of the upstairs room.

“They’re perceptive. They know when people are hurting.”

Carrie stared, her fingers fumbling with the inside of her sleeves.

“She turned eighteen on Friday, you know.”

Martyaxmon blinked, shuffling uncomfortably as Carrie held a hand to her mouth, staring into nothing.

“My little Lonnie’s all grown up.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Maybe. Probably somehow. I’ve managed so far.”

Carrie sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. “How do I tell the girls about Ali? I can’t let Lonnie do that. Not after everything she’s...already been through...”

The woman grinned, the dark circles more evident under her eyes than ever. “Sorry. I’m using you for support. I’m sure you have more important places to be.”

Martyaxmon looked aside. “Not anymore. And...well...I did my time wandering. I felt I deserved it. But whatever we’ve done, whether we’ve been hurt or we’ve done the hurting, the only way I, or any of us are going to heal is with the help of others.” He sighed. “I may never be able to atone. But I can choose to make things better.”

He tailed off near the end, and noticed Carrie with her hands on her hips, giving him a posed look. He let off a harrumph. “I’m just thinking out loud. Don’t mind me.”

“No, I...” Carrie raised a hand to her mouth, coughing gently. “I’m just wondering how you have more common decency than every single man I’ve ever dated.”

Martyaxmon blinked, his face going a bright crimson, or at least, a deeper shade of its normal hue. Carrie let out a puff of air, and began to giggle out loud, clutching her stomach. The manticore ground his teeth.

“...every...single one of your family...is frightening...”

“So are you sticking around for good? The girls really like having you around. And...well, so do I.”

“I won’t intrude more than I need to. But I won’t be going far.” The manticore sat back, the breeze ruffling his beard as he looked up at the sky.

“Besides...there’s something about your family that I really admire for some reason...”

“Mum.”

Carrie turned, seeing Anna standing in the doorway, holding the frame. The girl played with the end of her long hair, her bottom lip poking out slightly.

“Lonnie’s come down. She said she’s going out.”

Carrie nodded at Martyaxmon, before hurrying back inside, closing the door behind her. Anna stood aside, with Sian quietly holding onto her, sucking the tip of her thumb. Carrie turned into the hallway, and paused, watching as her oldest daughter pulled on her shoes on the bottom step.

“Are you going to see someone?”

Lonnie didn’t make eye contact, her movements slow and fumbling. “Not really. Nowhere in particular. Just...a walk.”

Carrie held her hands in front of her. “It’s cold out.”

Lonnie smirked. “It’s all cold nowadays. Thin walls.”

She stood up, and turned around, her smile pasted flimsily onto her face. “But...we have to make do, don’t we. We’re all in this together, right?”

Carrie looked at her daughter’s face; the red-raw eyes, the chapped lips, the crooked nose healing from yet another break, the rough fresh scars over her arms. She thought of objecting, or saying something, but nothing seemed right, and she realised right then just how different of a world her daughter was walking in. Had walked in, all this time.

She leant in, and gently kissed Lonnie on the cheek, before helping her with her fleece. The girl gave a quick wave to her sisters, holding the door open for Dendromon, before closing it behind her. Carrie was left staring at frosted polycarbonate, Lonnie’s silhouette disappearing behind it.

“...mum...”

Carrie winced, and turned around, looking down as Anna shuffled on the thin carpet. “What’s wrong with Lonnie? She beat that monster, didn’t she?”

Anna flushed, clutching at the hem of her skirt as Sian hid behind her.

“Why...why is she so sad?”

Carrie crouched down, and held out her arms, and her children walked forwards and hugged her. The woman could feel the tears welling again, but she didn’t wipe them this time, allowing them to fall down her cheeks. She sat back, and held Anna and Sian’s shoulders.

“Lonnie did...a very brave thing.”

She stood up, and held her daughters’ hands, walking them through to the other room.

“There’s...there’s something I need to tell you. It’s about Uncle Ali.”

“Déjà vu, huh...”

Aaron leant sideways, resting his elbow on the side of the chair. He looked up through his shaggy fringe, and let out a sigh.

“I’m getting kinda tired of looking at hospital walls.”

Jack smirked, and sat forwards in the bed in front of him. “You get used to it. Enough to figure out which are the fun ones.”

“Is this one of the fun ones?”

“Heck yeah!” There was a rustling of the duvet, and Gosmon poked his head up, waggling a tiny wing behind him. “They’ve got flapjacks in the vending machines.”

Jack grinned. Velocimon tiptoed forwards, his arms folded, and he rolled his eyes. “You really are incorrigible no matter how big you are.”

“What can I say? I like flapjacks.” Gosmon narrowed his eyes in a cheeky fashion. “Though if they run out I can always get you to make me some, master chef.”

Velocimon rolled his lips, going slightly pink around the cheeks. He pulled his arms further around, trying and failing to conceal the lilac oven gloves he currently had wedged over his gauntlets.

“...it’s a safety precaution. Got to be considerate. People have unstable hearts and the like.”

Aaron clasped his hands together. “Did I tell you they suit you?”

“Shut up,” huffed Velocimon, and he walked over to the other side of the room. Aaron and Jack shared a chuckle, before the younger tamer leant back. “So you’re being let out soon, right?”

“Maybe in a week or two.” Aaron shrugged. “Nothing wrong with me that there wasn’t before.” He stretched, before wincing, coughing for a few seconds. “...sort of. But they know how to look after me.”

“You took a lightning bolt to the chest. Again.” Jack wiggled his fingers. “What...like...third time now?”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, and glanced over at the cast around Jack’s right leg. “One thing’s for sure; when we’re old we’re gonna have some proper badass battlescars to show off to the new recruits.”

He chanced a look at Jack’s face, but the boy was already looking away, reaching over to his bedside table. He pulled his D-SEND closer, turning it over absentmindedly in his hands. Aaron cleared his throat. “You’re not gonna be too lonely here, are you?”

“Mum and dad are visiting me every other day. And I won’t be here for that much longer anyway.”

“What about Grace?”

“Her too.” Jack turned back. “She’s heading back to our house though. Just to see what we can salvage from all our stuff.”

“Your place is still standing? That’s something.”

“Yeah, well...” Jack lay back, and let out a long sigh. “Gotta take the luck where you can these days.”

Aaron bit his lip, holding his hands against his knees. He glanced sideways at Velocimon, who nodded gently. He could hear it too; the husk to Jack’s voice, more restrained than the young man had ever heard him. He waited, almost pushing Jack to keep going, but the boy was focused on the small device in his hands. He looked up, and smiled at Aaron, the lines creasing on his face.

Aaron held a hand to the back of his neck, before leaning forwards. “I should let you get some rest.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey...look, if there’s...if you ever need to talk about anything, anything at all then...I’m always around to listen.”

Aaron smiled hopefully, watching as Jack leant his head back. He rolled it sideways, and grinned at the other boy.

“I appreciate it. Cheers.”

Aaron pressed his lips together, before straightening up, holding his hands against the sides of the chair.

“Velocimon?”

The dinosaur walked over, and ever so gently placed a gloved hand on his partner’s abdomen, and another on the small of his back, supporting him as he stood up. Aaron winced again, and stood still for a few moments, before turning slowly around and heading for the door. Velocimon kept close behind him, keeping step with his partner and ready to catch him if he stumbled. He looked sideways, and nodded briefly at Gosmon.

“Look after him, alright?”

“You too, man.”

The door closed, leaving Jack and Gosmon alone in the bed. Jack leant backwards, his arms going limp beside him.

“Aaron’s doing alright, isn’t he.”

“He’s moving better. Quicker than last time I think.” Gosmon clambered forwards, adjusting the lopsided helmet on his head. “You’ll be back and ready to fight again in no time yourself, you know.”

“Y’know what? We should get Velocimon new oven mitts. Just when he’s not expecting it.”

“Jack...”

“I’ll see what I can find at our place when we can get back-“

“Jack, look at me.”

The boy trailed off, and his head fell forwards. He could feel Gosmon on the covers, holding his tiny wings against the boy’s cast. But he didn’t look up. His lips were held together so tightly that his head was trembling.

“How long are you gonna keep smiling for everyone else?”

Slowly, agonisingly so, Jack raised his head, looking into his partner’s jewel-green eyes. The boy could feel his shoulders going, and his face split apart as he tried to get the words out; the words he’d fought so hard to hide from his parents, from Aaron, from Grace...from everyone. Even his own partner.

“...he almost died again, Gosmon...”

Jack gripped his D-SEND tightly, tears already falling from his cheeks.

“Eloise...and Kai...have lost their partners...Grace has been hurt...Lonnie had to kill Ali...everyone...everyone I care for is dying...there’s nothing I can do...there’s nothing I’ve ever been able to do...”

“That’s not true!” yelled Gosmon, clambering forwards and holding his wings against his partner’s leg as he cried incessantly. Gosmon closed his own eyes, feeling the pit in his stomach.

“We can do this, remember? Together, we can take on the world. No matter...no matter how bad it gets...we can get through this, dude, we can keep fighting-“

“I don’t want to fight anymore!”

The boy let out a wail, and threw his D-SEND sideways. It clattered across the desk, and fell off the end, tipping into the waste bin as Jack curled forwards, completely breaking down.

“I’ve t...tried so hard...I pretended I could...I tried f-for them...but I can’t...I can’t do it anymore...I can’t lose anyone else...I...I can’t lose you...”

His arms wrapped around himself as he fell sideways, coiling up into a tiny sobbing ball as Gosmon crawled forwards.

“Please...please don’t make me do this anymore...”

Gosmon reached out, and gently held his wing against the boy’s shoulder. It slipped away, pathetically small in his current form. Jack was inconsolable, all his vitriol and pain given way to sobs.

The bird waddled forwards, and held his head against his partner, holding on as tightly as his useless, stubby little wings would allow. There was nothing more he could do. Nothing more he could say. Nothing more he could be. Just...nothing. Nothing but him. Tiny, loud, obnoxious, useless him.

“I’ll never do that, Jack.”

He closed his eyes, feeling his own tears dropping down onto the sheet below.

“Whatever happens, I promise. I’m never gonna leave you.”

Owen looked up at the ceiling, holding his hands behind his head. The light peered dimly through the drawn curtains, cold and unforgiving from the gentle snow outside. His body felt light. Unfamiliar. Uncontrolled.

“You’re remarkably quiet.”

Owen raised an eyebrow, and looked beside him, where Kevin lay curled up, one hand under the pillow and one on Owen’s chest. He looked up, his eyes sharp and focused even without his glasses. Owen shrugged, and held a palm over Kevin’s hand, pressing it further against him.

“When have I ever been Captain Talkative, dude?”

Kevin pouted. “And look how far that’s gotten you.”

“I came back, didn’t I? I promised I would. I only let you down like…forty percent of the time.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow. He considered making a comment, but something about the distant look in Owen’s eyes stopped him. He pulled closer, and gently turned the other man’s head towards him.

“Are you crying?”

Owen sniffed, and pulled away, running his hand over his face. “No.”

“I can see you.”

“No you can’t.”

Kevin sat back, doing absolutely nothing to hide the look on his face. Owen gave in, his shoulders falling down.

“Goddamnit.”

“After everything that’s happened, you’re still trying to hide it away...”

Owen sighed, leaning back as he held a hand to his mouth. “It just feels...I don’t know. Everything’s over, we’ve won, we should be healing, but it...it just feels like it’s never going to happen, you know?”

“Dude, you nearly died several times and your dad’s been taken away for crimes against digital kind.”

“...there is that.”

Kevin reached forwards, and placed his hand over his boyfriend’s on the duvet, interlacing his fingers between Owen’s.

“No-one ever thought this was gonna be easy to get through. And jesus, the amount of shit you’ve already gone through, I daren’t say it’s gonna get better because knowing your luck there’s far worse shit coming.”

“Thanks for the moral support.”

Owen pulled away, but Kevin reached out and pulled him close, pressing up to his arm.

“That’s the thing though; you don’t need to fight through any of this on your own. You’ve got the others, you’ve got Simeamon, you’ve got me. Lean on us, man. It’s how we survive.”

Owen turned around, looking into Kevin’s rich brown eyes.

“Have I ever looked you in the eyes and told you I love you?”

Kevin blushed, and looked away. “I...maybe. I don’t remember anytime recently...”

“Well that’s no good. I need to make it up to you.”

“Did you have something in mind?”

“I’m sure I can think of something...”

The two laughed together, before leaning back against the pillow, their arms still wrapped around one another. Owen reached up, stroking the back of Kevin’s head. He could feel tears welling in his eyes again.

“Just...hold me for a minute...please.”

They curled up closer in the low light, away from the cold and the wind. Just the two of them, holding and healing in the turbulent world.

Out of sight and out of earshot, Simeamon sat back on the roof of the building above, her tail whipping behind her and her palms pressed against the panel. Her helmet sat beside her, and she looked up at the clouds, her short hair blowing in the breeze. She chuckled, her breath forming little clouds in front of her.

“My boys are gonna be juuuust fine...”

Gentle notes danced through the air, faint and free, as Inez’s hands waved over the strings of her guitar. She sat back on the stool, steadying herself with both feet as she played further. She could barely see through the fog on her glasses, but she didn’t care. She just kept playing, and the notes welled up through her and fell from her cheeks as she felt the emotions coming forwards again.

Syngnamon stood at the end of the bed, his tail curled around him. He looked haggard himself, his arms and tail wrapped in bandages and his eyes heavy from nights of little sleep. But he only listened. Comforting her if not by touch, then by presence.

Inez’s hands paused, hanging on an incomplete fifth. She listened, her own breathing taking over as the sounds faded away.

“Do you mind if I come in?”

“Lyra? Is that you?” Inez looked up, and nodded. “Sure. Of course.”

The door opened, and Lyra gently walked into the bedroom. She looked around, holding a hand on her side. “Cosy place you have here.”

Inez looked up, and nudged beneath her glasses. “It’s been a while. Where are you staying right now?”

“Just around. Salma helped set me up with a room.” Lyra turned her head, and a lock of hair fell over her shoulders. “I need to be out of Eloise and Kai’s way right now.”

“How are they?”

“They’ve been allowed back to their place today. To pick up anything they can find.” Lyra bit her lip. “I can’t...stay with them. It’s not right.”

“I hope they’ll be okay.” Inez rested the guitar on her knees, her lip quivering. “Our house was hit. We thought it might be. Most of the beachfront houses were, but...well, still...” She gave an uncertain smile. “I guess we’ll be downsizing.”

There was a click as Tsurumon stepped into the small room, closing the door behind him. Lyra leant back against the wall, her hands behind her back. “I’m sorry.”

“Not to worry,” said Inez, calmly, and she gently brushed her fingers over the guitar. “They had time to pick up what we needed. And a few things for support.” She tapped against the wood of the instrument. “I have my albums. And this.”

“I heard you playing. You’re really rather good.”

“Thanks. It helps...”

Inez sighed, and leant back, pressing her arms against the edge of the bed. “It’s weird. I’ve spent so long being able to fight through with my feelings, but ever since the battle...I’ve cried every day. It just comes out. I can’t stop it.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed about,” said Syngnamon, his voice low and reserved. “You need time to heal as much as everybody else.”

Inez looked over her shoulder, and smiled gently, her nose wrinkling up a little. There was a smirk from across the room, as Lyra slid down the wall, pulling her knees up in front of her as her violin case fell against the floor.

“Honestly...I knew this was going to be mad, joining up with all of you. But this has all gotten so much bigger and messier than I ever could have imagined.”

“Do you regret any of it?”

Lyra looked up, and tilted her head. Inez leant forwards. “You’ve been beaten up as much as the rest of us. If you had the choice again, would you still have joined us?”

Lyra stuck her lower lip out. She found herself looking towards Tsurumon, but he merely shook his head. “I can’t help you here. I’ve already said, haven’t I? I’ll follow you wherever you decide to go. For better or for worse.”

Syngnamon snorted beside him. “No such thing as loyalty between friends then.”

“Did we ever decide we were friends?” remarked the crane, tilting his head. “I seem to recall we only ever made a temporary truce in the first place.”

“...you are a royal arse.”

Syngnamon scowled, and the crane raised a leg, and began to preen himself in a decidedly smug fashion. Inez and Lyra chuckled amongst themselves, before Inez looked at the older girl, still waiting for an answer. Lyra let out a sigh.

“I can’t say I’m happy about all the shit I’ve walked through to get here.”

“I can feel you there.”

“Preach.” Lyra held up a hand, pulling her fingers in one by one. “But I’m happy I did anyway. No matter how many more battles we have left and how much hurt we’re still gonna go through, you’ve all made it worth it. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

She looked up, waiting on Inez’s response. The girl looked sideways, catching Syngnamon’s eye, and the slight guilt that remained behind it. But she smiled, and reached out, gently running a hand over his mane.

“We’ve all got our demons. So let’s be happy that we’ve all got our angels as well.”

Lyra stuck out her tongue. “Are you thinking up song lyrics?”

“I don’t sing. I get embarrassed.” Inez reached out with a foot, poking Lyra’s leg. “You’re the internet-star; you sing.”

“I am completely tone-deaf, you know. Why do you think I have an instrument?”

“Isn’t it all a way to sing?” laughed Inez, pulling her guitar up. “Sing...laugh...cry...it’s all a way to speak without words.” Inez gripped the neck of the guitar, and plucked a few notes. “And I might keep speaking, if you don’t mind.”

Lyra grinned, and pulled her violin case around beside her. “Only if you let me join you. If you don’t mind pizzicato that is.”

“Always.”

“I’m still not used to seeing you around for this long.”

Kent sat back, unable to hide the look of guilt in his eyes. Trilomon sat up beside him, and gently placed a claw on the chair, his eyes sparkling. The man reached down, and rubbed behind the insect’s head.

“I don’t want to say I’ve learned better. I probably haven’t. But we have too many problems now for me to just run away again.” He looked up into his brother’s face. “No matter what, I’m staying this time. I won’t leave you.”

Mark took a sip of coffee, before resting his head in his hand. “I don’t know what it says about me that I’m glad.”

“I wouldn’t worry. So am I.”

“So where does all this leave us?”

“A lot of familial awkwardness and apologies?”

“No, not that. That’ll happen as it will. Maybe.” Mark sat up. “I mean with the digital world and the gates and...everything that’s going to happen because of this. You can’t tell me this is over. Not by a long shot.”

“T-t-the digital world will survive.”

The two young men looked down as Chromon sat on the ground, his expression flat and contemplative. “I-it always does, in some fashion. Without being there I couldn’t say for sure. B-b-but there’s been a lot of damage there as well, and I think we’re g-going to see more Digimon coming through than ever.”

Kent sighed, running a finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “HelMidgarmon was a symptom, not the cause. There have been instabilities in the Digital World for a long time now. Nithhogg was caught by them as well, and Surtremon. And as the fabric is breaking down then the incursions between worlds are going to increase. Heck...they already are.”

Mark leant back, his eyes focused on his brother. “Is this what you’ve been looking into over in America?”

“There’s more going on than any of us know,” piped up Trilomon, as he turned around and coiled his tail section up. “It’s not just here. All over the world, gates are opening up. Your world and the digital world are more connected than ever.”

Kent nodded, straightening up. “It’s something I was going to talk with Alasdair about, before...well. Before this happened.” He looked down for a second, his brow furrowing. “I don’t know what’s causing it. But I do know that all our worlds are changing, and we need to be prepared for that.”

Mark blinked, and nudged his empty mug to the side. “Is that what...you wanted to talk to me about?”

Kent held his hand against his beard for a few moments, his eyes seeming to scan the table in front of him. Then he reached down, and pulled a flat wallet out of his bag, placing it on the desk in front of him.

“If the worlds are joining together, then we need to make them both a sanctuary for humans and Digimon alike. And that means we need to reach out, and step out of the shadows. We need to be their heroes. A recognised group to act as ambassadors between our worlds. Try again what Simurghmon and the others didn’t manage.” Kent sat upright. “We can stop something like this from ever happening again.”

“That’s...ambitious...”

Mark leant forwards, looking over the documents in front of him. “And that’s a lot of official seals and NDAs. Should I be looking at this?”

“It’ll be difficult for us to do this together if you don’t.”

Mark looked up, watching as Kent smiled sheepishly. “You’re the person I trust the most in the world. I want you to work with me on this. If you’ll accept, of course.”

Mark glanced at the sheet, then up at his brother. He reached out, and finished his coffee, before sliding the paperwork out.

“Well, the gates aren’t going to stop anytime soon. I suppose we’d better get started.”

Trilomon trilled happily, and Chromon wandered forwards to look over Mark’s shoulder as he and Kent began to split the documents between them. The younger brother placed a thumb to his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“Digimon Integration and Rehabilitation Authority...” He glanced up. “DIRA, huh?”

“It’s a work in progress.”

There was a crunching sound as the car rolled over the gravel, avoiding the worst of the trenches and potholes as it drew to a stop. The rear doors opened, and slowly Kai stepped out, helping Eloise with him. They edged across the rough ground, trying not to fall over their feet as they looked down what remained of the street. Their street. While it had escaped the worst of the destruction from HelMidgarmon’s rampage, the wounds from Sciamon’s assault were still fresh.

There was a humming noise as the driver’s side window rolled down, and Salma leant an arm out, running it along the edge of the rounded glass. “This is as close as I can drive you.”

“That’s alright,” said Eloise flatly, and she pointed with a lone finger. “We’re just over there. Or...we were.”

Salma glanced over at the skeletal ruins of the terrace, with blackened walls and splintered beams just barely holding up the hollow building. She nodded, and pulled back.

“Be careful. It’s not going to be safe.”

“Is anything these days?”

“Just don’t hurt yourselves.” Salma swallowed, leaning back in the seat. “I’ll, uh...I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

She pressed the button, rolling the window back up, as Eloise and Kai picked their way over the broken tarmac, until they found themselves at the front gate, which lay buckled in front of them. They stared inside the cavernous ruins, still heavy with damp ash.

Kai glanced sideways, trying to catch Eloise’s expression, but she just pulled her jacket inwards, shivering through the thin material.

“Sciamon definitely did a number on this place, didn’t he...”

“Do you reckon we can claim insurance?”

“I don’t think our contents are covered by Acts of Self-Proclaimed Gods or the like.” Eloise walked forwards, instinctively putting a hand out to open the non-existent door. “Certainly not now, at any rate.”

The joke was there, but it fell utterly lifelessly, like most of their conversations for the past three weeks. They’d been around to check on the others, offering their hands when needed. But on their own, anything they said was purely functional. If they even said anything at all.

“Where are we supposed to start?”

Kai frowned. “I’m not sure. What’s important, I suppose...”

“What counts as important? Furniture? Pictures? Anything that’s not broken?” She stepped on a piece of counter, which cracked beneath her foot, before turning back around. “It’s all gone anyway.”

“Let’s just keep looking.”

They did, scouring the floors in silence. They searched through caved in speakers and shattered plates and peeled chairs, neither of them moving quickly. It all seemed lifeless now, whether it had been cheap and tacky to begin with, or some of the items they’d spent out on. Even the things which hadn’t been destroyed were coated in a layer of ash, claggy and thick.

There were a few things. A small filing cabinet, with at least one drawer sealed shut, protecting the personal documents within. A shield-shaped crystal plaque, with only a hairline crack down the centre, won from an old school ceremony. A couple of hardback books, barely singed around the edges. Tokens of a lost life.

Kai tipped over a chair, and brushed the ash away beneath him, pulling at a leather strap.

“I think you’re in luck. Your laptop’s still here.”

He pulled it out, and brushed off the ash from the outside of the case, before peering inside. “It’s a bit bruised, but you might be able to get backups from here at least. I think they’ll probably let you off late entries for uni work.”

“Kai...”

The man paused, looking up as his throat tightened. Eloise sounded different. Something was wrong.

He turned slowly around, and his heart sank as she saw what she was holding. Scorched, torn, and trailing scraps of fabric, but still unrecognisably the figure of a dumpy toy mouse, with stitched on glasses and a little blue waistcoat.

“...I found Duke...”

Kai’s arms fell by his sides, the laptop sliding down into the ash beside him. He watched as Eloise’s face cracked apart, weeks of holding it back, weeks of not-now, weeks of denial and confusion and listlessness all fell apart in a single stroke, the tears gushing down her cheeks

And as he felt his own insides caving in he rushed forwards and threw his arms around her, and he held her close, his own vision blurring in an instant as his tears fell onto her shoulders

“It’s gonna be okay...it’s gonna be okay-“

“NO!”

Eloise’s voice was raw, punctuated by disparate sobs as she clung tightly to his broad shoulders, her fingers gripping his skin beneath his thin clothes.

“I want...I just want her back, Kai! I wanna be here and building a life here and helping the new kids and...a-a-and be looking after Grace and Jack and finish my d-degree and...but...I’d give it all up again if...if I could just have them both back...if I could just have Ladomon back, Kai! I’ll give anything...please...there has to be something...”

And Kai’s response never came, as all he could see was Colchimon, and Eloise’s arms around his shoulders became the dragon’s comfortable weight, and he could see, he could see the purple eyes and the quizzical look and the gentle smile of the Digimon who had saved him from himself, and he flew back and curled around Ladomon’s soft form, both strong, both brave...braver than he ever could be...

“I can’t...”

“No!”

“They’re g...gone...Eloise...I’m sorry...”

He didn’t let go. Neither did she. The wind picked up, and it blew cold ash through the air, whipping into a black twister, then falling apart again, dropping gently down over the ruins of their home.

“...how are we supposed to go on like this? How...how are we supposed to live without them?”

“...we don’t have a choice, do we?”

Minutes they stood, not daring to let go. Clinging on to each other, for there was nobody else left.

“It’s the last thing they did for us. They gave us the chance to live.”

The two pulled apart, and looked into each others’ eyes, the blurring and rippling giving way until they saw the others’ ashen face, the red-raw eyes, the flushed cheeks.

They leant forwards, their foreheads just touching as their arms descended, holding the other by the waist. Two becoming one. Never breaking, and never parting.

“We live on, for us.”

“And for them.”

“Thanks for coming with me.”

Nicholas smiled, feeling the cold wind brushing past his cheeks as he did so. “Not at all.”

There came a snort from behind them, as Yethmon pulled his scarf further around himself. “Couldn’t have picked better weather, couldn’t you?”

Nicholas looked over his shoulder. “Hush, you.”

“It’s frickin’ freezing, boy.”

“You’re fuzzy. Deal with it.”

Grace gave a small laugh beside the young man, and pushed closer, her hand interlocking with his. He waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. Only the rustling and muttering behind him, until Vulpimon reached out and gave the hound a jab in the kidney.

They walked hand in hand, over the rugged streets, taking shortcuts past fallen lampposts and collapsed walls. Still, compared to other parts of the town this had been relatively unscathed, allowing Grace among others to go back and rescue whatever they could find. The pair walked quietly through the mist, their arms swaying gently back and forth. Vulpimon and Yethmon trotted behind them

“Didn’t your parents want to come?”

Grace turned her head. “They want to be near Jack. We don’t need much; just a few things we didn’t think of. And we want to see how bad it is.”

“It looks like you might have gotten lucky.”

“Here’s hoping.”

Grace’s smile faded, and her grip tightened, ever so slightly. “So...where are you staying? Have you been able to talk with...”

“My grandparents?” Nicholas sighed, and ran a couple of fingers through his hair. “A little. They’re still not happy having me back. But I have friends I can stay with. At least until I sort myself out.”

“I’m...sorry.”

“It was going to happen sooner rather than later.” Nicholas reached up, running a thumb over his cheek. “I love them, I really do. But I never found who I was until now. I can actually become somebody worthwhile; someone they can be proud of, maybe. Somebody I could be proud of would be a good start.”

“Don’t say that!”

The wind picked up, rustling through their hair as Grace’s voice hardened, just for a millisecond. Then she spoke again, her voice barely a whisper.

“You’re a good man, Nicholas. You’re a great tamer, and you’ll be invaluable to us all. We’ve...we’ve all made mistakes. But you’ll get past them. You’re amazing.”

Nicholas glanced across, trying to catch the young woman’s eye. She kept looking forwards, her hair covering her face. He squeezed her hand, pulling it closer.

“What did I do to deserve you...?”

She flinched, and slowed to a stop, stretching his arm out. Nicholas paused, and looked back. “Grace?”

She stood at arm’s length, her hair blowing past her. But she didn’t let go. He could feel her fingers in his, feeling the cold bones pressing against his skin. He looked away, seeing the flickering streetlamps above him.

“I think this is your street.”

Grace nodded, as Vulpimon walked up behind her. The fox sat down, watching with burnished golden eyes as the young woman stepped forwards, bringing hers and Nicholas’s hand up between them.

“I’m...I’m alright from here.”

Nicholas swallowed, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Do you need me to come with you? I can stay if you want. If you need me.”

“Nicholas...”

Grace took in a breath, the harsh wind chattering through her teeth, as she finally raised her head.

“How long are we going to...pretend with this?”

“...I’m sorry?”

“That...that we can stay together, Nicholas. That this is alright. For either of us.”

“.........I......I don’t...”

Nicholas stayed stock still, his insides caving like he’d just been punched in the stomach. He looked down at the young woman’s face, trying to see any sign of it being a lie, or a joke or...

Nothing. Nothing in her eyes, as they fixed on his, pale in the flickering light above.

His hand rested on her shoulder, feeling distant now. The young woman looked sideways, smiling sadly.

“I know how awful this is of me. You don’t deserve this...but that’s...that’s why I have to go.”

Nicholas shook his head. “I didn’t...I can fix this, I promise, I can be better-“

It was no use. The look in her eyes was fixed. Blank, like a doll’s. She looked up into his eyes, and gently reached up, her hand rolling gracefully down his cheek, and over the straps of his eye dressing.

“I’ve changed, Nicholas. I’ve already hurt you enough. If you stay with me, I’m only going to hurt you more. You deserve somebody who can nurture the man you are. Not somebody who relies on you to save her.”

She gave a gentle laugh, and her shoulders rolled slightly, sending Nicholas’s hand tumbling down to his side.

“It was a wonderful dream, being with you. I wish it could last forever...I really do...”

“Grace...”

Nicholas could only watch as the girl leant forwards, her face pulling level with his. She closed her eyes, and her lips touched his.

It was a slow, bitter kiss, making time pause and the mist hang in the air. Nicholas couldn’t feel anything else, only the parting gesture, and all other feelings were lost as everything fell to pieces around him.

Grace pulled away, opening her eyes. She stepped back, and looked down, her hand still locked in his. Nicholas was looking at the ground now, his teeth gritted.

“We can...make this work...”

“Goodbye, Nicholas. I’ll see you around. Thank you for everything.”

Grace stepped back, and her fingers drew apart from his, the faint cold lingering on his fingertips. And he drew his arm in, watching as the girl walked away down the street, with the fox padding gently along beside her. The mist curled in, turning them into mere silhouettes. And they were gone.

And Nicholas looked up, and realised that it was snowing. Particles of white falling from the sky, twisting and dancing and falling to the hard ground. There was a gruff snort from behind him, followed by a shaking sound as Yethmon shook himself out.

“God damnit, this weather...she makes us walk through this and then does a runner...un-fucking-believable...we have to walk back.”

There was no response. Yethmon’s eyes rolled sideways. “Isn’t this the time when you tell me to hush or call me wolfaboo or something?”

Still nothing. Yethmon lowered his arms, and wandered around, looking up at his partner.

“Hey...you okay?”

Nicholas raised his hand, gently pulling it to his eye. But it only touched fabric. He moved it sideways, running the fingers beneath his glasses, before holding them out in front of him. They were glinting in the streetlamp; just a few drops of tears. He could feel the sting as more of them came.

“...Grace...”

The snow was only just beginning to settle, forming little piles on the side of the road. Lonnie pulled her shoulders in, her jacket ruffling up around her neck as she walked quickly. Where, she didn’t really know. Or care. Just anywhere. Anything to feel the world around her.

“Will you wait up?!”

There came a patter from behind her, and she turned to see Dendromon running across the pavement, her feet slipping on the damp ground. She got up close, her shoulder pumping up and down as she scowled up at her partner.

“You walk too damn fast, you know that?”

Lonnie’s face cracked. She snorted, before bursting into giggles. Dendromon folded her arms, her cheeks flushing even more crimson.

“What’s so funny?”

“You really don’t like it out here, do you...”

“Y’think?” remarked Dendromon bluntly, as her head was wobbling from the haze and steam which was billowing from her body, hissing a little where the snowflakes were hitting it.

“Me and the cold don’t get on. You’re the one who decided to go for a waltz around the block at this hour.”

“I didn’t realise it was gonna snow. It never snows anymore.”

The girl stepped back, and leant against a brick wall, her smile waning just slightly. “Who am I kidding? This year’s breaking so many conventions it’s not even funny. Surely it has to be better soon.”

Dendromon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t say it. We’re gonna be dealing with the fallout.”

“...I suppose so...”

Lonnie glanced sideways, and tilted her body, peering between the buildings. Dendromon glared up at her from behind, hopping back and forth. “Can we get a move on already? I’m gonna get freezerburn.”

“Come with me, just a sec.”

“Lonnie!”

“Jog if you need to.”

“Geez...”

The girl picked her way through the piles of debris as they got higher around her, with Dendromon clambering along beside her. They came to a stop, and Lonnie placed a hand out around the ten foot blue wall in front of her, sealing off the lower part of the town. The salamander wandered forwards, looking along its breath.

“What do you reckon? Are they gonna seal up the gate again, or build a bigger facility, or what?”

“Who knows?” Lonnie bent her head down. “It’s all starting up again...”

The wind picked up, and the girl flinched, pulling her scarf further around her as Dendromon swore under her breath. Lonnie fished inside her pocket, and pulled out her D-SEND. She held it in her palm, watching the faint orange glow before her, and feeling the warming energy in her palm.

“Do you reckon he’s still there?”

“Who? HelMidgarmon?”

“I don’t know how the digital world’s working now. Whether he’s just gonna dissolve or float away or stay there; I think the rules have all been messed up. Again.”

“All I can say is there’s a lot of him to go.” Dendromon raised her head, and her gills fluttered. “Why? What are you thinking?”

The girl turned around, and looked up at the smooth panels, edged at regular intervals with bolted ridges. “I guess...I just think I need to say goodbye properly.”

“But we can’t...oh, don’t tell me-“

“Dendromon, please.”

“We shouldn’t be in there. It’s still messy in there.”

“And? If anyone has the right to have a wander round it’s us.”

The girl turned around, and looked into Dendromon’s bright eyes. The salamander clasped her hands in front of her. “It was hard enough on you the first time. Why do you need to do this? It’s...over, isn’t it?”

Lonnie drew her lips in, and pocketed her D-SEND. “It’s not gonna be over. Not ever, I don’t think. No matter how many times Sara, or mum or Salma or even you try to talk to me, it just doesn’t feel real yet. It feels like I’m still dreaming, and I need to wake up.” She raised a couple of fingers, brushing a pigtail over her shoulder.

“The one thing I can’t allow myself to do is forget.”

Dendromon sighed, letting out a little croak as she did so. “ Fiiiiine.”

“Thanking you kindly.”

The salamander rolled her eyes, trudging behind Lonnie as she scoured the outer edge of the wall, looking for a point where the panels joined up. “Aah, here we are.”

“Honestly, what is your obsession with climbing things that really are not supposed to be climbed?”

“I don’t have many things bouncing around in this fat hollow head of mine, but that one’s there to stay.” Lonnie grinned. “Hupsa-daisy.”

The door clicked, and slid open, moving in jerks as it bundled up the doormat and the small pile of letters and flyers wedged beneath it. Grace stood to one side, allowing Vulpimon to walk inside, before following her, closing the door silently. The house was dark, the grey skies and falling snow outside providing no light, and there was a heavy, noxious smell, likely from the kitchen. It had been a long time after all.

Grace reached out a hand, running it along the wall until she found the switch. The hall light flickered, before glowing into life, revealing the musty rooms beyond. Vulpimon coughed slightly, and turned up her nose.

“This place needs a clean.”

“Mmm.”

Vulpimon paused, looking up as her partner walked past her. The girl’s gait was unsteady, with her shoulders swinging slightly back and forth.

She walked into the kitchen, and reached out a hand, running it along the surface of the counter. When she pulled it away, there was a thin coat of grime on her hand; residue from before the attack. The kitchen smelled terrible; food that her parents hadn’t had the chance to take or use, mouldering in the fridge. Most things seemed to be in order, but there were signs that the tremors had reached even here. The spice rack lay on its front, small piles of paprika and oregano around it. A couple of cupboards hung open, with broken glass on the floor below. There was a pile of paper on the floor, having slid from the dining table.

Grace walked towards it, and bent down to pick one of the sheets up. Vulpimon padded through to join her, avoiding the fragments of glass as she did so.

Suddenly the girl laughed. Only momentarily, and only quietly. But it filled the silence. Vulpimon’s ears twitched.

“What is it?”

“I had history coursework. I remember now.”

“I see.” Vulpimon tilted her head. “When was it due?”

“Doesn’t matter now.”

“No...of course...”

The fox waited to see if the conversation would hold, but her partner just placed the wad of paper beside her, her knuckles resting on the table. The kitchen was dark, with barely any light coming from outside as the snow kept falling. Vulpimon wandered forwards, and nuzzled against Grace’s legs. Then she carried on, and curled up in her own bed, placing her muzzle against the dusty pillow.

“I suppose we don’t have to hurry.”

“No.”

“Why don’t you have a little rest? It’s safe here. And...you might just need some time.”

“Probably.”

Grace let out a sigh, and wandered off back down the hall, her hand trailing along the wall of the house she’d lived all her life, and which now felt so detached. Vulpimon watched her go, the flickering light blinking in her golden eyes.

“It’s just us now...”

With a spry hop, Lonnie landed in the dust on the other side, her legs flexing as she crouched. She wobbled for a bit, before straightening up, brushing her hands off and grinning incessantly.

“Still got it.”

“Help!”

“I’ve got you!”

The girl turned, and held her arms open as Dendromon flailed on the ridge above her, before falling forwards. She crashed into Lonnie’s waiting arms, sending them both falling backwards into the dust. They coughed and spluttered, before Lonnie rolled over, beginning to laugh. Dendromon was slightly more reluctant at the gesture, snorting as she brushed off the grey debris from around her, but eventually she caved.

“You are impossible.”

“I did warn you from day one that I was like this.”

Dendromon whistled through her teeth, and began to march after her partner, her tail swinging in the air behind her. “I had dignity once. I was a goddamn general in a past life, apparently, and now I fall off walls after my partner because I am but a mere fool.”

“Do you regret it at all?”

“I regret falling off walls and landing up with bruises on my head.”

Lonnie stuck her thumbs in her pockets. “I mean me. Am I still okay for you?” She stuck out her bottom lip. “If I’m not good enough...”

Dendromon gripped her chin in mock thought, before smirking at the young woman’s quivering expression. Lonnie’s face cracked as well, and she gave way to giggles. The salamander placed her arms above her head, looking upwards.

“I have to say, I’m glad to see you smiling like this again.”

Lonnie’s expression faded, just a little. Then she turned, and waved a hand.

“It’s not my style to mope.”

“I think it’s less ‘mope’ and more ‘dealing with intense emotional trauma’, but whatever words you wanna use I guess...”

The two walked forwards, slowly opening up a little more, much like they had since they’d met. At least for a few blocks. But then the horizon opened up more, and a strange green glow seemed to be lighting up between the barriered piles of rubble, and there were twinkling lights in the sky.

Then the debris opened up completely, and the two stopped, staring at the great trenches that had been the mainstay of their battle.

HelMidgarmon hadn’t gone away entirely, although he looked remarkably different from the last time they’d seen him. The bones had crumbled to dust, and the void had long since leaked away, to where was anyone’s guess. There was only crystal left – mounds of emerald and jade – and the days had picked away at it as the data had floated away, made light and life by the open way to the digital world. Gone were the jagged spikes and the dark hue; now it was a deep, pure green, sparkling in the white light from the sky. Snow was already nesting in clumps around it, and the crystal’s internal light shone through it like a prism, forming rainbows, and dancing across the snowflakes and data particles that mingled and whirled in the breeze.

Dendromon placed her hands on her hips, whistling under her breath. “He’s beautiful...”

Her partner didn’t reply. The salamander looked up, her brow creasing a little. “Are you...gonna be okay?”

Lonnie sniffed, and wiped beneath her eyes. “Yeah...yeah. I think I am.”

“Come here.”

Dendromon reached out, and held the girl’s waist, and Lonnie crouched down and held her back, holding firmly just for a few seconds, before giving in to the hug. The two wandered to the side together, crouching down on a fallen beam as they watched the sun set and glow through the motes of light in the air.

“Where do you think we go from here?”

Lonnie sighed, running a thumb over her lips. “I know what I’d like to say. But we both know this is gonna change everything we thought we were doing.”

Dendromon curled her toes in front of her. “That terrible power, huh? That’s on the loose now.”

“Figures.”

Lonnie leant forwards, and clamped her hands over her cheeks, watching the rainbows in the air. “HelMid-...Wyvermon...he was trying to do the right thing once, I’m sure of it. So was Ali. And Eirenemon, goddamnit. They were just doing what they believed and then life went nuts. And other people got in the way.”

Dendromon looked curiously up at her, listening intently at the girl’s musings. Lonnie’s eyelids fell slightly, as she looked at nothing.

“All I ever wanted to do was help people who needed it. I thought once that was all I needed to do. But it all just got so complicated.”

“Lonnie, you’re one of the best and kindest people I know.”

“Yeah but that’s expected. We’re partners.”

“...fine then, you’re an arse. Happy?”

Lonnie snickered, before looking up at the sky, her head swimming with troubling thoughts, as it had been for weeks now.

“How many were hurt because of us trying to help? Human and Digimon alike. How many of them died under our watch? All we were trying to do was make things better.”

“It stings, doesn’t it?”

The girl started, and looked at her partner. Dendromon shook her head. And the voice came again.

“Trying to be kind in a world as broken as ours.”

Slowly, the girl and the salamander turned their heads, looking up above them on top of the half-collapsed building. There, sitting on a section of wall, their legs dangling over the edge, was an unidentifiable, yet an unforgettable helmeted figure. Mira raised her arm, and gave a quick salute.

“Hello there. I hope you’re doing okay.”

The house hadn’t been entirely unscathed. While the shower had eventually switched on after a series of gurgles and splutters, there was no heat to it at all. Not that Grace had really noticed. She stared ahead as the water fell over her, not even feeling the discomfort. Her entire body felt like it was on autopilot; a suit of armour, keeping everything away from her. The glimmer of familiarity was all she had, and it sated her.

Time passed. She stood, dripping, hearing the hollow noises of the pipes around her. It took five minutes before she even stepped out of the bathtub, and walked gently over to the mirror. She ran a hand over her body, and looked down at her arms and legs. They were covered in red blotches, almost looking like a rash. But as she waited and the skin dried, she could see the little patches of frost forming over them within minutes.

She twisted, and heard a cracking sound. She didn’t look; simply putting her right hand around her waist, holding it against her right side. Her fingers ran across it, soft skin giving way to solid, opaque ice, hiding any sign of the decaying blow she had taken. Visibly, at least. Her hand formed a claw, as she tried to pull at it, instinctively pressing inwards. But there was no feeling whatsoever. Save for the cold.

Everything felt cold.

Almost in a daze, she stepped out of the bathroom and walked over to her own room, pushing the door open. She opened the wardrobe, looking at the nice jackets and skirts she’d accumulated over the years, but none of them looked right anymore. She changed tack, pulling on some worn tracksuit bottoms and an old hoodie. The fabric was rough, but she didn’t care. She could feel it. Just.

She sat down, feeling the weight disappear from her limbs. Her chair swivelled slightly, and she found herself looking at her mirror. The girl raised a hand, and gently ran it through the front of her hair, watching as her stark white bangs fell through them, and rested amongst the dull chestnut. They fell down, and she lowered her hand, staring into the mirror. She looked unrecognisable. Broken, and damaged, and scarred by the endless battles, and by her own terrifying power. Like a completely different person.

No.

No, she

Much though she wanted to pretend otherwise, there was no mistaking it. She knew exactly who she was looking at right now.

The door shifted in her field of vision, gently swinging open. She sighed, leaning back as Vulpimon walked gently next to her, the fox’s tail hanging low.

“Are you okay?”

Grace didn’t answer. She just stared ahead, and her own face stared back, colourless in the low light. The window rattled as the wind played up, the snowfall getting slightly heavier. Vulpimon looked up at the windowpane and the gathering frost, before she hopped up beside her partner, sitting beside her on the bed. Grace looked down, and reached out an arm, holding it around the fox’s shoulder. The noise lessened slightly, the snowfall getting lighter again.

“Do you think you did the right thing?”

Grace looked down. “I think I did the best thing. He’s strong, and brave, and needs room to grow. I can’t hurt him anymore like this.”

“…I was thinking about you…”

Slowly Grace turned her head, looking down into the fox’s bright golden eyes. Bright, if dulled slightly.

“It was never going to be right. None of it was. A normal life, or a peaceful life, or a heroic life. I can never have any of it.”

“Grace-“ “I can see that now. It’s not my place to be happy.” The girl smiled, her eyes creasing slightly. “If the best I can do is to fight, and open the way for others to have a better life, then…then that’s what I can do for them. They can move on, and I can watch from a distance. And I won’t have any regrets.”

Vulpimon’s eyelids fell slightly. “Is that really what you want? You’ll be alone. Suffering.”

“If it means nobody else needs to get hurt, then I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.”

Vulpimon closed her eyes. Grace’s hand curled round, and gently felt beneath the fox’s pendant – her own pendant, once upon a time - looking into the glowing jewel at the end. It felt cold, but comforting.

“You won’t be alone.”

Vulpimon shuffled, and her ears flattened slightly. “You’re…you’re all I have as well, Grace. No matter if the rest of the world abandons you, I’ll always be beside you.”

She leant sideways, nuzzling up beside her partner. “I…I love you, Grace. No matter what happens, or where you go, right, wrong or otherwise...I’ll always love you.”

Grace felt the fox’s fur against her, tingling even through the hoodie. A last vestige of connection in this world.

She held her arms out, and brought the fox close, embracing her on her lap. The pendant glowed alongside the fox’s eyes, and the girl’s eyes, as snowflakes drifted around inside the bedroom, dancing in the air.

“Thanks, Vulpimon. You’re the only one I need now.”

Dendromon stood up with a hiss, her gills bristling. Lonnie swivelled round, her D-SEND already in her hand as she looked up towards the renegade.

But Mira raised a hand, shaking her head.

“Easy. I’m not here to start anything.”

Lonnie stared hard up at the helmet. “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it? You’ve started enough already.”

“I see. You have a good memory.”

Lonnie straightened up. “Look, if we’re not allowed to be here then you definitely aren’t.”

Dendromon’s lip curled, a slight hissing noise coming out. “What are you doing here?”

For a moment the renegade looked down at the pair of them, as if enjoying the tension. Then she sighed, and kicked forwards with her legs.

“How do you keep up the energy to fight like this? It must be exhausting.”

She shrugged, rolling her shoulders forwards. “If you must know, I’m here to pay my respects. Much like you, I understand.”

“...your respects?”

“There are people who’ve been fighting this war for a long time. Longer than you know. Some have fought for a lost cause. But some of us are looking to change things for the better.”

Lonnie listened, not completely understanding the rogue hunter’s words. Mira turned her head up, staring out at the crystal structure beyond.

“You saved this unfortunate world, but you’ve only doomed its future. HelMidgarmon was holding a terrible power at bay. You made your choice, and released it.”

“What; are you after co-ordinates or something?”

Mira looked down, and saw Lonnie standing up, facing her with her D-SEND in her hand. Her expression was firm, her hair blowing in the icy wind.

“If you’re trying to break my spirit or make me feel bad then that’s too bad. I knew it was a risk. I knew what it would lead to. But I did it anyway. It was the right thing. For the people I love, and loved.”

There was a smirking sound, as the hunter twirled something small in her glove. “If you wanted to do the right thing for this world, you should have let HelMidgarmon tear it apart. Start it all over again.”

“Sounds counter-productive to me.”

“You said it yourself. How many people have died because of this? How many people have suffered?” The renegade leant forwards, flecks of snow landing on her helmet.

“This is a broken world. The Digital World is the same. Everything we try and do only leads to the suffering of more innocents. Nobility and heroism cannot pass through the whims of selfishness and violence and hate. It’s just the way of the world. You must have seen that.”

Lonnie held her head up, and her lips shut, as Mira continued. “I don’t blame you. You are kind, and noble. But small acts cannot save this world. It needs to change from the very core, or the only certainty in all worlds will be regret and pain and death. Either we accept that, or we take the fate of the world in our hands and change it.”

Dendromon’s tail swung sideways behind her. “Is that a threat?”

“It’s only a warning. The prison has been shattered. There’s nothing you can do now. I’m sorry.”

The wind picked up, blowing between the girl and her partner, and the unknown figure above them. There came the sounds of voices in the distance. Raised voices, and the faint sound of rumbling.

Lonnie raised a hand, scratching behind her head. “Yeah...sorry. I don’t really buy that.”

Mira sat up. “I didn’t expect you would.”

“I mean...yeah, this has been...an utter travesty. I’ve lost friends. I’ve lost family. I’ve been shaken to the bone and beaten within an inch of my life.”

Lonnie looked up, as the clouds parted slightly overhead, revealing a thin sliver of sun that fell down upon her.

“But I’m still here. A lot of people are. And all of us left, we have a new day to look forward to, and to live for. Maybe I’m dumb, but...really...for now, I think that’s enough.”

Vulpimon’s ears twitched, and she looked up towards the window. “Do you hear that?”

“I can feel it.”

Grace stood up, and pulled the curtains aside, looking through the pane. The snow was falling down in clumps, forming piles on the side of the road. But despite that she could see into the distance, where the sparse sunlight was forming mottled patches on the ground. She could see flashes of light; fire, or energy, or something else entirely, and hear the faint sounds of shouting.

“That’s a digital gate, isn’t it...”

Vulpimon reared up, placing her paws on the windowsill as she stared outwards. “Something’s arrived. Are they running? Or have they come to cause trouble?”

Grace looked down at her, and gave a short smile. “Does it matter?”

She stepped back, and reached down towards her bedside cabinet, picking up her D-SEND as it trembled in her palm.

“Right now, somebody needs us.”

The renegade bowed her head, as she watched Lonnie turn, staring out across the horizon to try and get a better look.

“I’m jealous. I wish I could still have the faith in the world that you do.”

“What can I do about the world, really?” Lonnie shrugged. “I can make choices. Good, bad, noble or stupid. If it’s really all gonna collapse, or if it’s all gonna change, then that’s out of my hands.”

She turned, and pointed out across the debris.

“But all I know is that, right now, somebody needs help.”

Grace gripped the windowsill, frost dancing in her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me. It’s never going to end, and as long as it doesn’t, I’ll be there.”

Lonnie raised her arm, pointing at the sunlight above.

“It doesn’t matter what happens to the world. We’re still living, and as long as we are, I’ll be there.”

A warrior.

A hero.

This world will always need someone to fight for it.

And we will never stop fighting.

Mira looked back and forth, staring at Lonnie’s smiling face. She nodded. “ You’d better not keep them waiting.”

Lonnie raised a couple of fingers, giving the figure a Scout salute.

“I hope you find your happiness somewhere. It’s never too late to find it.”

“Whatever the case, I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“Isn’t that always the way...”

Lonnie gave a quick wave, before sliding down, and breaking into a run across the rough ground, with Dendromon running swiftly alongside her. Mira shuffled from her perch, resting an arm across her lap as she watched the two run off into the rubble.

“You truly are a remarkable young woman.”

The hunter leant back, staring at the passing clouds, and listening to the distant commotion, and feeling the rush of data as the two tamers began to close in, their partners evolving.

“Hands of Fire, Hands of Ice, Never Should have Crossed.”

“Prime the Arrow, Serpent Falls, We’ve already lost.”

She rocked back and forth, feeling the sun and the cold through the heavy coat, as the snow began to swirl around in clusters.

“I wish you well, warriors. I hope you enjoy the rest of your dream.”

Her hands curled, pressing against the edge of the beam as her voice fell to a yearning whisper.

“And I swear, one day, I’m going to find mine.”

Epilogue

Storms raged across the jagged landscape, tearing through rock and metal and folding the ground like paper. In between the canyons and crevasses stood lone fortresses; islands amongst the chaos that had been pressed together, stronger now in their wrought state than they had ever been on their own. In the skies up above there were glimpses of other landscapes; grass-studded snowfields, sprawling urban wreckages, crystallised seas and moulded mountains. All a promise of a brand new world; a peaceful world, a mended world. And all lying in tatters, as the world continued to twist out of shape, slowly collapsing back in on itself.

HelMidgarmon may have been gone, but the damage he had caused to the digital world would take a long time to heal.

And yet, down on the pockmarked and twisted surface, life went on as it always did. Another generation to face another cataclysmic event. There was really nothing else to do but to survive, and carve out your place in this broken world.

One such figure raised a leg, and kicked sharply against the rough archway. He winced, the pain jolting through him. He ignored it. Not much else he could do, with only one arm that was currently wrapped around a small bundle of plastic, and a large bag strapped over his back.

The door slid apart, and the bright ginger whiskers of Liopramon poked out, his nose crinkling. He looked down at the new arrival, blinking against the spitting ash outside.

“I know you...”

The figure raised his head, revealing bright yellow eyes amidst glossy black and white plumage. He may have looked reasonably dashing, were it not for the lack of a right arm and the ragged scars across an otherwise pristine white chest.

Liopramon gave a jolt of recognition, before his face split into a wrinkled grimace.

“Christ’s sake, Rhyncomon...why aren’t you dead already?”

Rhyncomon – or rather, Maggiemon – gave a tsk, and looked down at the ground.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He cleared his throat, and adjusted the blue package. “I need to speak to Caesiumon.”

“Oh...do y’now...”

Liopramon smiled sweetly, before lashing out with a boot right into Maggiemon’s stomach. The little magpie gave a caw of pain, rolling over double at the leprechaun’s feet. Liopramon sneered, malice clear on his face.

“Y’ve got a lotta nerve. And a whole lotta payin’ back to do.”

Maggiemon didn’t answer. He just kept his head down, and the blue parcel held tightly, his beady eyes glaring up. Liopramon scowled, and stuck out a foot, pressing it against Maggiemon’s head.

“Kiss my boot, bitch.”

“Liopramon, enough.”

The faerie stepped back, glaring down as the squat figure of Hoatzimon poked her head around, her crest flickering in the wind.

“This is a sanctuary now. We’ve picked enough pointless fights between ourselves.”

“Y’really wanna give sanctuary to this arse?”

“...I can still hear you.”

Hoatzimon and Liopramon looked down in tandem, as Maggiemon picked himself off, brushing off his feathers as best as he was able. Even in this diminished state, he held himself upright. A level of personal pride not easily lost, even though it had nearly killed him.

“I need to speak with Caesiumon.”

“Well then. I didn’t expect to be seeing you again in passing circumstances, let alone actually arriving at my feet.”

Maggiemon snarled up at the metal man, but he stayed still, instead just fixing him with his one good eye. Caesiumon walked back and forth, hands behind his back as he examined the magpie.

“I thought you died back in the human world.”

“I don’t kill easily. Much to the annoyance of everybody, it seems.”

“Could be in better shape though.”

Maggiemon snorted, and turned his head away. He leant back and forth, his remaining arm clutching the bundle beneath him.

“I would take offense, but I don’t really have the means to back my own claims up right now.”

“And so you came here for protection?”

“I may be lacking an arm, but I still have ears. I know you were gathering the stragglers from Sciamon’s army.”

Caesiumon whistled. “Stragglers is a harsh word. Survivors. Digimon who felt they had more to offer by riding out this storm.” The metal man raised an eyebrow. “ Several of whom probably would have preferred you were dead.”

Maggiemon glanced aside, feeling the burning gazes of Suricamon, Alraumon and Hyokomon upon him. The meerkat spun her shovel, scraping it against a twisted pillar.

The magpie looked back forwards, as Caesiumon raised a hand, balancing flames over his knuckles. “ Honestly, I was the one who tried to kill you first. I can’t be at fault for your own lack of common sense.”

“Would you settle for a bargain?”

“I’m not like you. I don’t work for trinkets.”

Maggiemon rolled his remaining arm, and the blue bundle tumbled down onto the floor. Caesiumon paused, rocking back and forth on one heel. The magpie’s eye glimmered.

“I told you. I have ears. And my hand can be quick when I want it to be.”

He reached out with a foot, and tipped the bundle over towards Caesiumon. The metal man crouched down, running a hand over it. He reached a split in the plastic, and drew his hand back, the metal of his body shivering. There was a gentle, hollow sound, and the area went silent, all present feeling their very hearts resonating with the mysterious relic.

Caesiumon looked up, and there was a strange, ethereal light to his eyes as he stared down at the magpie.

“Do you realise that this is a very dangerous game you’re playing?”

“I can get things. I thought you could use a reminder of what I’m capable of.”

“Do you know the significance of this?”

Maggiemon placed his hand on his side. “HelMidgarmon was protecting it. For decades, I gather, sealed down inside the Dark Area. And with his defeat, this terrible power was released into the world once again.” The magpie leant back. “Ready for whoever might be looking for it.”

Caesiumon turned up, holding his hands on his knees. His eyes were fixed upon Maggiemon, as if trying to see behind the little bird’s words.

“An accurate description. But describing this as a ‘terrible power’ is denying the hundreds of years of suffering it has caused. This power has tainted the Interface, and sustained a human’s husk for decades through his own desire for nothing more than freedom. It has driven Wyvermon mad with devastating power. It was forged to remove the essence of life itself and reset anything it touches to zero. Not just death. Complete decay. Non-existence. Even the depths of the Dark Area cannot dull the raw hatred that runs through this device.”

Caesiumon’s stare was piercing and deep, so much so that even Maggiemon had to lower his head from the intensity.

“There is enough power within Dallurmon’s Hand to reshape the existence of all worlds. And you saw fit to deliver it to me...why?”

Maggiemon snorted, and looked back at Caesiumon.

“That level of power is of no use to me. I only wish for protection. And time.”

He stared, never breaking contact with Caesiumon. Eventually the metal man chuckled, stepping backwards.

“Humans and Digimon alike really are fascinating. So unpredictable. ” He bent down, and cradled the bundle in his arms, holding it firmly. “ Time for what?”

Maggiemon closed his eye. “To prepare myself. I realise now; I could never gain anything in the human world. But I’m a spiteful bastard.” He opened his eye, venom coursing through it. “I will have my revenge on the world that’s spurned me. And I am willing to offer myself to you, if you will allow me that right.”

Caesiumon bowed his head, the grid shifting around his chest. He held up a hand, and snapped his fingers, letting off purple sparks.

“Yet another lost soul, broken by a world that hates its own creations. It’s hard to argue with your sentiment, nor your ability to survive through the odds.”

“So you’ll accept me?”

“It would be pointless of me to deny you.”

Something rustled in the corner of the magpie’s eye, followed by a slow, metallic thumping of footsteps on the hard ground.

“Although if it’s justice you’re after, you may need to get in line...”

Maggiemon watched as purple flames burst into life around the chamber, revealing the others all around him.

The small, hunched figure of Liopramon, rolling coins through his fingers at a blinding speed.

Hoatzimon, perched on a nearby rafter, her eyes dull and lifeless and her hands clasped before her.

Suricamon, Alraumon and Hyokomon, sitting in the corner, watching the magpie with burning hatred.

And yet others, stretching back into the old hall.

A tree-like figure twisted up one of the pillars, hooked claws hanging downwards and a look of barely-concealed rage below their angelic mask.

An almost-skeletal creature hovered a few feet above the ground, sat in a clay mortar and balancing herself with a bone pestle, her silvery hair obscuring her facial features save for a long, beak-like nose.

A slight-bodied, childlike demon stood against one wall, holding a hand over the side of their face, their right arm disappearing off into nothing.

A tiny, twitching shrew peered out from a hole in the wall, with staring blue eyes, and a body that shimmered in a manner similar to water, seeming to pull the very fabric of space with each movement.

An owl-like creature stepped forwards from the shadows, his face covered with a demonic helm, and a flaming golden crown above him.

Maggiemon heard the sound of giggling from the corner, as not one, not two, but three small figures clustered around, with wicked grinning expressions on their fox-like masks, much like Reynarimon’s.

And further still, he could hear a deep, melancholy cry, and feel tremors through the very ground as a gargantuan shape sat hunched in the depths of the vast chamber beyond. He couldn’t make out many details, save for rusted copper armour, pale cartilage, or glowing white pupils amidst taut rubbery flesh, staring down from high up in the darkness.

Maggiemon huffed, and clicked his beak thoughtfully. “So you’re building an army. Not so different to Sciamon then after all.”

Caesiumon sat down, holding the bundle in his lap, and he curled his hand over the arms of the old throne.

“I am merely trying to right the inherent wrongs of this world. All worlds. And thanks to you, we have the last piece we need.”

“So what do we do now?”

“Ride out this storm.” said Caesiumon, looking up as the purple light reflected off his skin. “And prepare for the real war.”

He waited, closing his eyes as Maggiemon walked amongst the others, prompting hushed introductions and even more hushed death threats. Caesiumon smirked, and leant sideways, holding his head against his curled fingers.

He closed his eyes, and began to plan.

Colours and shapes; a kaleidoscope shifting and pulsing within the depths of the interface. It moved left and right, and the rugged cube moved with them, lost in an absence of space and time. Just drifting. And waiting.

A trail of lights hit it, and it rolled sideways, sent on a new orbit through nothingness. The lights burrowed inside, and floated around the desecrated room within, landing on vials and papers, and on the withered, leathery body of the serpent on the ground.

The body twitched, and hacked, and spasmed, the limbs stiffening and stretching out with a series of muffled cracks.

And he sat up. His eyes straining against the dim light and the bright light at once.

“Damn. That was something.”

He turned his head, and his cheek split apart, pouring dust onto the ground. He held his palm against it, which promptly fell off at the elbow.

“Ah shit.”

It took several hours. Or maybe not. According to the laws of relativity it may have taken no time at all. It didn’t feel like several hours because all feeling had largely dissipated as well. Alongside adhesive and cable ties, gels, tinctures and fresh produce, he was first and foremost an existence held together by force of will. Barely held together, but just about.

And so, in an unspecified time on top of an unspecified cube, Rinkhalmon sat with his legs crossed and his hand tapping against the rough material, feeling the lights and the sounds of the Interface passing through him.

“So the last piece is finally in play...”

He chuckled, staring with blank eyes at the wall of impossibilities in front of him, and in glimpses, the human world beyond.

“Let’s make it a good game, then.”

The serpent swallowed, raising his arm above his head and stretching. He looked up, and a smile stretched across his face as he reached out towards the wall.

“Wait for me, my love. Just a little bit longer.”

“I’m coming for you. I promise.”

Endless Battle

Moon Devoured

Horn shall Make Its Call

Flame or Frostfall

Here or There

Hel Awaits Us All

THE STORY WILL CONCLUDE IN DIGIMON AESIR