"Three months?"

Alasdair clasped his hands, and nodded. "Thereabouts. You must have been gone a while if you did all the things you said you did."

"No, but...well, yeah, but..." Aaron stuck his hands behind his head and lay back, a puzzled expression on his face. "I could have sworn we were gone a lot longer. We travelled halfway around the world and back again. Three months just seems...no, it can't have gone that quickly."

Alasdair scratched his cheek. "I suppose it makes sense. From what I gather there was a time difference back in my day as well. Though we were nowhere near as long." He counted out on his fingers. "One day, four days...I guess about a year you were out there?"

Aaron whistled. "Woah...a year..."

He looked up at the ceiling. Everything seemed so surreal now. When before he was sleeping in caves and constantly running for his life, all of a sudden things had just...stopped. It had been five days since the incident, and very little progress or discovery had been made with the portal, which showed no signs of closing anytime soon. Everyone else had been discharged by now; he was hoping to get back home by the end of the week. But...things were complicated.

"So what do they think?"

Aaron shook his head. "They don't know. Heck, I don't know. Whatever's filling my chest is pretty much a mystery to them; they don't want to poke it too hard in case they break it." He looked down himself, running a finger down his breastbone. "It's weird. It's not really painful, but it feels different. A fully digital heart, I guess. Maybe it could go crazy at any point." He exhaled. "At the very least they told me I can't be as active anymore."

"Are you going to be alright?"

Aaron looked away. "We'll see. Everyone's going to find it difficult."

"Don't I know about it." Alasdair ran the back of his own palm over his right leg, feeling nothing. He glanced up and saw Aaron looking back at him. The old man shook his head. "Nothing so grand as you. Car accident. Nothing more."

Aaron looked at the way this man spoke, and his eyes told a different story. Still, the boy was incredibly indebted; they all were. Alasdair knew the Digital World. As soon as the original portal had been sighted, he'd been the one to do the legwork. Gathering their parents, and explaining, as best he could, what had happened. Doing what he could to follow them, though of course, contact was close to nil. On the one hand, it felt good to know somebody had been looking out for them all this time. At the same time though, there was so much about this man that Aaron wanted to know. His past. His own journey to the Digital World.

Aaron glanced up at the TV screen; more coverage about the portal, which had now been completely covered up. And that just brought back more uncertainties. They weren't the only ones. The only chosen children. There had been others. And with the rift fully open, there would almost certainly be even more.

There was a knock at the door, and Jasmine walked in, holding a plastered-up Juramon in her arms. She smiled at Aaron, before rolling her eyes. "Don't look so glum. It may never happen."

"Nice to see you too, Jasmine."

She stuck her tongue out. "Isn't it always?" As jovial as her tone was, Aaron could see the dark red circles under her eyes. She hadn't slept much.

The lizard looked irritated; he saw Aaron and raised a claw. "Can you tell your sibling to stop stroking my tail; it's embarrassing."

Aaron sighed. "Jas...he's not a plushie."

"But he's so smooth and awesome and I like him."

Juramon growled. "For Yggdrasil's sake...it's only just grown in. Can I zap her? Just a little?"

Aaron sat up. "How dare you, of course not! That's my sister." He shrugged. "Maybe just a tiny bit."

Jasmine huffed, and all but threw Juramon into Aaron's lap. "You two are gonna be a pain." She scratched her hair. "We still don't know where we're going to keep you though. Maybe a terrarium?"

Juramon just mumbled through a mouthful of bedding. Alasdair chuckled, then looked at his watch, and winced. "Darn. I need to call the taxi firm."

He swivelled around, as Aaron called after him. "Where are you off to?"

Jazz hurried for the door to open it. Alasdair thanked her, and waved goodbye to Aaron. "Just an old friend. Maybe one day I'll introduce you." He winked. "You'll see me again. Hope you get better soon."

As he heard the gentleman rolling down the corridor, Aaron felt the hang-up in his stomach again. He looked back at the TV screen, with confused people talking around tables, and again began to wonder about what was to come. Jasmine sat on the bed, and clutched his hand. She said nothing.

Andromon stood in the dark, one overly long arm pressed against the nearest wall. His eyes lit up the darkened room, illuminating the hulking Digimon currently stuck behind metal and glass. "I don't suppose anyone's told you?"

Latroditmon sighed, and curled her body back. "They never tell me anything. But I'm guessing the move went well?"

Andromon buzzed, and glanced outside of the tiny window, at the new view of the vast waterfall. "How did you know?"

"I have good hearing. And it's also warmer. The apocalypse is over, the city rode out the storm in one piece and we can all rejoice, hurrah, hurrah." She rolled over, leaning her large claws on the cell floor, and her smaller arms on those ones. The naga smiled sweetly. "So do I get some time-off? It's been a while."

"Nice try." Andromon gestured behind her. "Once we've sorted out places for everyone we rescued I'll see about new windows for you. You are a part of the city, after all."

"How touching." Latroditmon pulled a face. "What's the point; you know I'll only cause trouble once I do get out."

She leered, making fake movements towards the door. Andromon just shrugged. "Blame me. I guess I just think there's still hope for you."

"Oh please, I know you're supposed to be my loving attendant but this is just sickening."

Andromon smiled, and turned, walking away from the cell and back up the steps. "You'll change your mind eventually. I promise, we won't judge."

The door closed behind him. Latroditmon's mandibles flickered, and she went back to painting her nails, filing them into sharpened points in the process. She held her finished hand up, watching it glisten in the dim light.

"Keep dreaming, sweetheart."

In a small oasis by the vast canyon, Chieftriaskismon sat, his feet in the water and his spear by his side. He glanced to one side; at the rough but sturdy city some way away, in its new home on the newly created plains.

"No more battles, eh? No more Fire Kingdom. No more sieges and reigns of terror."

He leant back, swaying his feet from side to side and glancing at the pond in front of him. The data had already conglomerated on top, making new plants. Structures. And scattered around, even the odd egg. Life was returning to the Digital World.

Chieftriaskismon flicked his tail, and beckoned with two fingers, causing the surface ripples to pull the nearest Digitama to him. He held his hand over the surface, a growl in his throat. The water's surface stopped deathly still. Then, the tiniest of ripples, emanating out from the egg.

Chieftriaskismon grinned his feral grin. "Enjoy yer peace, Silicon City. I'll have my army ready for y'yet." He stood up, the waters rearing up with him.

"This world never changes. It will always belong t'the strong."

The mainframe shook and shuddered as the winds battered it, leaving ragged structures of data forming like horizontal icicles. A crossroads between new and old; the shifting world trying to build itself again.

Among the white pillars was snuggled a black figure, sheltering from the wind and occasionally teleporting further as his current shelter blew down. He didn't mind. It allowed him time to think.

Neomon sat atop one smallish pillar, looking out all around him. His fabric rustled, and he reached into a tear in his chest, bringing out a small, dull orb. He chuckled, and held up his sickle-like claw, scraping it down the smooth surface. A silver sliver spiralled away and was whipped away by the wind. For a moment there was a glimpse of something; a couple of tiny black particles on the metallic surface. They retracted. Neomon replaced the orb, and sniggered.

"It's a new new world, cowboy. Let's go go exploring."

George Carter-Evans sipped his coffee, lying back in his chair as he surveyed his two boys before him. Kent was sat, in fresh clothes, clasping his hands and looking serious. Mark, only thirteen, had his arms folded.

There was a scrabbling sound nearby, and Arthmon poked his head up. George jumped as the insect spoke. "Are you..."

He shrank back, aware of three sets of eyes boring into him. "I'll wait."

"Don't worry, um..."George sighed, and took another swig of coffee. "This is going to be a pain, isn't it..."

"I'm sorry dad."

"Why did you have to go and mix yourself up in this?"

"I don't know." Kent leant forwards, his dark eyes flicking between his father and brother. "But now it's gotten this far, it doesn't look like it's going away. I want...I want to look into this more."

"Kent, please..."

Mark stood up in a hurry. "I'm going upstairs."

He marched off before anyone could respond, a dark look on his face. George looked up, hearing the upstairs door slam shut. He exhaled. "You can't do this to us. Not again. If you knew-"

"Of course I knew. And I don't want to leave again. But I'm seventeen. I need to move on at somepoint, and right now, I have a responsibility to-"

"To what? What else do you owe these things?"

George's hand shook, and coffee went over the floor. Arthmon flinched again. Kent glared at his father, who looked away.

"Look at me, dad."

He waited, as the tired, middle-aged man slowly turned towards him. Kent bit his lip. "Arthmon saved my life. Think what you want about this, but don't take it out on him. Or the Digimon in general. Shit happens; it's not their fault."

George put his mug down. "You've grown up a lot. I just wish it could have been here."

Kent faltered, realising he was getting angry. He beckoned Arthmon over and picked him up, resting the small insect on his lap. "It's not your fault either. I'm the one who was being..."

He struggled to find the words, but George raised a hand. "It's fine. It's...fine."

He glanced outside, and got up, shutting the curtains. "Taylor called. I told him what...you know...I let him know what had happened. While you were gone as well. He was devastated."

"What did he say?"

"As much as always. But he loves you." George stood in the centre of the room. "I love you too. We all do. I don't want you to have to do this, but I can't stop you. You're probably right. You usually were."

Kent stood up, walked over, and put his arms around his dad's shoulders. It was loose, and awkward. Kent stood over a head taller than his father. But it was something. George raised a hand, and grasped Kent's wrist. Then he let go. The boy pulled away. "I'm not going anywhere soon. I promise."

"Do what you need to." George smiled down at Arthmon. "Both of you, alright?"

Kent walked towards the stairs, when his father raised a hand as well. "Don't blame Mark, either. He's found it harder than I have."

Kent gave a weak smile, and nodded.

The boy passed his brother's room on the landing. He stopped, and knocked twice, just lightly. There was no answer.

Eventually Kent sat down in his own room once again. It felt familiar, and yet somewhat alien. Dusty.

He smiled at Arthmon, and spent a couple of minutes just holding him, running his fingers along the insect's spine. Then he put him down, and rolled over and booted his computer, hearing the fan whirring. His laptop lay on the bed; useless now. Too much abuse, and with no Digital World to fix it this time. Not that it mattered anymore.

Kent sat in the dark, opening up his web browser, and then his e-mail. He felt in his breast pocket, and pulled out a post-it, covered with spidery writing and a few e-mail addresses he'd gotten from Alasdair. He swallowed.

"We're not finished yet. We're not going to be finished for a long time."

He took a mouthful of water, and began to type.

Secretly, Paul Gallant was rather pleased with himself. Somehow, despite everything, he'd been able to deal with the current situation in a similar way he'd dealt with most situations in the past few years, being a parent with two kids within three years of one another. And two dogs. And now, inexplicably, two more people he had to look after that were neither kids, nor dogs, but somehow as demanding as both of them together.

Gosmon stood on the table, flapping his tiny wings. "I'm hungry!"

"You can't be hungry, I fed you an hour ago."

"I can't help it!"

Paul let out a deep breath, opened the breadbin and chucked a couple of cheap cereal bars over words the squat flightless bird. Gosmon kept complaining, but Jack was over there quickly, opening them up and feeding his partner. It was tough for everyone. As soon as the whole Nithhogg business was over, suddenly there were two In-Training level Digimon with some very big appetites. Lagomon was okay; she'd usually wait until the dogs were fed out of respect. Gosmon was just a pain with a bottomless gut, and even he had no idea why. Still, Paul didn't say anything. Childhood was always going to be difficult, and the teen years, even more so.

Grace came down, slightly out of breath from all the running she'd had to do recently. "Anything else?"

Paul looked at his daughter's face; the dark, crescent half-moons beneath her eyes, and her pale skin. "You're fine, it's okay. We'll sort the rest; you get some sleep."

"I can-"

"You...just...don't. No. Go to bed." Paul pointed, and held his other arm out towards Jack. "You too. I'll sort your...friends. You go to sleep."

"But I can-"


Grace folded her arms. "It's only five-"


The two children made their way upstairs. Paul was sure he could hear his daughter grumbling along the way. He covered his face with his hands, and leant against the breakfast bar, making a near indecipherable groaning noise. Gosmon hopped onto the bar, and cocked his head. "Are you alright?"


"We can-"

"You can..." Paul exhaled, and looked up into the bird's face. "This is difficult for us. Please...just understand; Jade and I just need a moment. A day or two. Take...Lagomon? Take her and just...please, I beg you..."

Lagomon was, at present, dealing with the affection of two very friendly whippets exploring her all around. As much as she was trying to put on her usual princess persona, they were having none of it. Gosmon came to her rescue; barging between the two canine warriors of friendship and escorting the spherical vulpine elsewhere. As hungry as he was, Gosmon was not without tact when it counted.

Jade came into the kitchen, knocking against the wall. Paul gritted his teeth, and looked up. "Everything alright?"

Jade looked up towards the ceiling. "You know everything I told you?"

"Of course. It's not right." He clenched his fist slightly. "You sure...I mean...are you sure it was-"

Jade nodded, but held up a hand. "This can come later. My father...never mind."

"Are you okay?"

Jade shook her head. "No. But it seems like we're not getting away from this." She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. My family was always the pain."

Paul stood up, and put his arms around his wife, patting her back. "We'll get through this. We all will. It's weird, but we'll find a way."

He glanced back towards the open breadbin, and the several open packets within. "Even if we have to put a calorie limit on that bloody bird."

Grace had figured out the prime argument spots in her house a long time ago; places she could sit and eavesdrop when her parents were 'discussing' something important. Still, she rarely picked up everything. She gave up halfway through the conversation this time, and went back to her own room, finding Jack sitting upon the bed. He had a new sleeve on his knee, and a bandage, and a new doctor's appointment booked for tomorrow and three other days within the next week. He had the look of a boy who had all that to look forward to. He pouted. "I miss it there."


"Don't you?"

Grace looked away. "Kinda..." She felt in her pockets, where her D-Nexus still lay. Jack's was in his hand; he prodded the buttons and swiped at the main pad, but nothing really happened. Just a dim, LCD screen coming up with useless numbers. Jack looked up. "Do you think we'll ever be heroes again?"

Grace laughed, walked forward and put her arms around her brother, who returned the gestured willingly. She grasped at his shoulders. "Again? We're already heroes, you and I. We've done everything we needed to."

She tapped his shoulder. "Come on, you. We should go to bed; we're both tired. The doctors said."

Jack pouted, but complied. He stopped halfway out Grace's door, turned and smiled at her. "Please...we can do this again. I can do this again."

Grace bit her response before it came out, instead looking to her brother's aqua eyes. She nodded. "Sure. Of course we will."

She found herself alone a few seconds later, staring at the wall. She changed into pyjamas, and went to her wardrobe, putting the dead D-Nexus up on the topmost shelf. She hesitated in putting it down, feeling the tiniest tinge of energy with every movement.

"I shouldn't. But I do miss it already. All that power..."

Her hand went to the light, and the room entered the deep blue realm of early evening. As she snuggled into the covers, the same sensations went through her head. She closed her eyes, the frost settling on her skin once again.

"I hope I can do it again."

Phoukamon sat, the ends of their tails whipping in the new breeze. All around, the world was rebuilding itself. Data particles still hung in the air, blowing this was and that, joining onto new structures, blowing away to form pastures new. The spirit sat in the branches of a great vine; a tangle of knotted wood that stretched between different islands still floating in the void. One day soon, they would be pulled together, forming something new and different again. There were little white flowers studding the wood, and Phoukamon picked one up, twirling it in their fingers.

"You planning to watch it all?"

Phoukamon smiled. "End of the old world. Beginning of the new. There's only one chance." They spun themselves around. "Was there anything left?"

"Not much." Chromon sighed, and looked back at the scattered rods of metal, already being intertwined with grass and moss. "The Spokes had their d-d-day. The Obelimon as well. The old world will be gone, buried beneath all the new life. Even the elements will probably r-r-return to the world itself. I d-daresay it will be much needed." He smiled. "It'll be sad. But we'll r-remember. There'll always be some fragments left. But with that, there's no use for the w-w-watchmen anymore."

Phoukamon stood up, and walked over to Chromon. "There's always a world, partner. Always something new to investigate. To catalogue. What do you say?"

The dinosaur shook his head. "My t-time in this place is done. I need to make my own life now. H-hopefully I can do a better job than Serpemon did." He bowed his head. "I w-w-wish you all the best."

"And you too." Phoukamon blinked each eye in turn. "So where will you go?"

"I'll find somewhere. Or s-s-someone." Chromon turned, flicking his tail back and forth. He looked up into the rainbow sky. "Or maybe both. We'll s-s-see."

The short Indian lady replaced her pen in her drawer, and clasped her hands beneath her chin. "I'm just glad you're safe."

"Safe is...well, it was sorta difficult, Ms Malhotra." Kai shuffled in his chair; the same chair he'd sat in for many a while now while his student counsellor had given him new targets. It all seemed so distant now though. For some reason he didn't feel the anger anymore; at least, not to the same degree. He looked at the posters all around him and felt a sense of relief. At least it was familiar.

Ms Malhotra seemed to pick up on it, but her face was still grave. "You realise with...everything you've missed, there's not much chance you can pick up your grades in time for college."

"I figured. We all seem to be going through that."

"Well it's never too late-"

"Do I need to go to college?"

His counsellor stopped, and adjusted her glasses. "Not if you don't want to. Although you should finish your GCSEs at least; to give you some base when you go into employment."

Kai shuffled his hands. "Maybe I could start looking for a job now?"

"What, part-time or something?"

"Yeah. I mean...I was looking at the bookshop in town now and again. It might be...I don't know if they'll take me, but I can try." He looked away. "I feel like it might be good to step back from things."

Ms Malhotra smiled, and nodded. "I think that sounds like a good idea. Do think it through though, and do ask me if you need any help."

"Of course." Kai put his hand on the desk. "Do you need me for anything else?"

"I have a lot of paperwork around you to sort out. Not your fault, of course. But we can do that next week if you'd like." She stopped, and her face stiffened a little. "You know...your father...we never told him what happened to you."

"Could you?"

"We have to have access to his...current home, at least. But with everything else going on..." She sighed, and held her clipboard in both hands, looking somewhat guilty. "It's down to you. If you wanted to just talk, I'm sure we could..."

Kai was looking down at the floor. He clenched his fists, then relaxed them. When he looked up again, his face was straight.

"I can't. Not...not yet. Not just now."

Ms Malhotra nodded. "Understood."

The boy went to stand up, but paused, halfway out of his chair. He smiled at his tutor. "But...maybe. Maybe sometime. Hopefully."

Eloise turned as she heard the office door open, and leant her arm over the back of the bench, smiling as Kai walked down the steps. "Did it go well?"

In her bag to the side of her, Wyrmon poked his head out. "This is how you solve things in this world? Talking to people? How boring."

"Don't be mean!" Lindmon poked her head out next to him. She nodded at Kai. "He's proud of you really."

"Thanks." Kai saighed, and sat down next to Eloise, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You didn't have to come you know. I'm sure you have other things to be doing."

"Listening to Kayleigh and Abby fussing all over me and asking about the Digital World and what I was doing and all that?" Eloise pulled a face, then chuckled. "Yeah, maybe. But frankly, I need a break for a few days. They're good friends but they're not exactly low maintenance." She nudged Kai. "So...did she bring up..."

"My dad?" Kai nodded once. "I'm not sure that's ever gonna be sorted, honestly. Too complicated. I'll need a lot of time to prepare for that." He scratched his cheek. "I'm supposed to be getting better at this, I'm sure. It just feels like I'm kicking my legs a bit."

"Ah, I wouldn't worry." Eloise shrugged. "I'm not exactly talking friendly with my dad. But then he's an arsehole."

"You seemed okay."

"That was my stepdad. Jack Elliot. He's cool; treats my mum well. Though I'm always gonna be a Young I think. Eloise Elliot; it sounds a bit silly honestly."

Kai looked a little sheepish. He coughed. "You know...if you haven't got anything else to do today..."

He trailed off, but nobody filled in for him. He looked up again to see Eloise waiting, expectantly. "Go on."

"I was thinking...maybe...I don't know, lunch? Or something?"

Eloise blinked. "You mean lunch or you mean...lunch?"

"Or coffee, or..." Kai coughed again. "We were kind of busy in the Digital World but I...like you. I just thought...you know you don't have to..."

For a moment Eloise looked bemused. Then she sighed, laughing a little. "You know I always thought you were cute, right?"

Kai went beet red. "I...um-"

"Don't worry about it." The girl stretched. "Lunch sounds awesome. But we'll call it a date. I think we can do that now, if that's okay with you." She tilted her head. "Anywhere in mind?"

"I...uh...hadn't got that..." Kai swallowed. "Nando's?"

"Just what I was thinking." Eloise stood up, and placed her hand over her forehead, looking up at the sun. Then she reached down, holding her hand out towards the boy still sitting there on the bench, looking confused.

"It gets busy in half an hour. Shall we go?"

Kai beamed, took the girl's hand, and nodded. Together they made their way down the winding path from the school, as the sun shone brightly.

In Eloise's bag, Lindmon whispered to Wyrmon.

"What just happened?"

The other dragon sighed. "I'll never understand humans."

If Alasdair sat up, he could just see over the rooftops, towards the flashing lights and scorched earth surrounding the rift. Occasionally he could even hear people yelling commands; mostly to stay away from the big hole in space-time.

"Did you see it, Uncle Ali?"

The man swung himself round, and beamed at the girl sitting on her grandmother's lap. "I've done more than see it. I've been there." He waggled his fingers. "I've been to the place where the monsters roam free."

The young girl giggled, and shuffled on the bed. She was older than she seemed, thirteen years old, yet she had the bright shining smile of a six-year old. Her ginger hair was bobbing around in short pigtails, and her eyes were golden stars shining against her freckled skin. Her schoolbag lay on the ground, and beside her, an open hardback journal, full of doodles and drawings and random thoughts from the day.

Yvonne smiled, tired but still excited, and she reached over and flicked through her granddaughter's notes. "Monsters and magic. We've all seen it, one way or another." She smiled at Alasdair. "I never thought we'd see it again."

Alasdair's expression was sad. "It's not going to be easy. Things are going to change, and most people don't even realise it."

"If we could handle it as children, surely we'll learn to live with it?"

"We aren't like what we used to be. One day, something's going to explode." He looked down. "Besides, we didn't handle it. Not quite."

"Come on Ali. Brave heart." Yvonne passed the book back to her granddaughter, and ruffled her hair. "You be good, alright. Don't go bothering people willy-nilly."

"I won't."

"Promise? I know you." Yvonne's eyes turned to the window briefly, and she reached out for the child's hand. "Your granny thinks things are going to get weird in this town, and if you're anything like me, you're going to end up in the middle of it. So don't go causing trouble. Stay safe. Do what Uncle Ali would do, not what I would do. Promise?"

The girl let out an exaggerated sigh, and held up three fingers in a Scout salute. "I promise. I won't go causin' trouble, ma'am, no sirree."

"Good enough. Just what I'd expect from my favourite grandchild."

"I'm your only grandchild."

Yvonne shrugged. "Well, if that's how you feel..."

The girl's face scrunched up. Yvonne stuck her tongue out. "Go on then. Your mum'll be waiting."

Alasdair nodded. "You head outside; I'll join you in a minute."

The girl picked up her journal. "I'll see you again next week, right?"

"Of course." Yvonne glanced up at Alasdair. "Take care of her, right Ali? Like you always have. No matter what comes...or who."

Alasdair stared down at her with his crimson-brown eyes. "You think one day..."

"My family? Almost certainly." She laughed. "I don't know. I have a feeling, but I don't know. Whatever happens, just please...be there for her. Help her be the hero I couldn't quite."

Alasdair reached forward, sitting on the bed, and gave Yvonne a great big hug. He patted her on the back, his touch warm and comforting.

"If anyone was a hero back then, it was you. Whatever happens, I have every faith in you. And in her."

He pulled back, and wiped a tear from Yvonne's cheek. Then he sat back, and swivelled back towards the door to the room.

"Come on then, Lonnie. Time to go home."

The sounds of legs and wheels faded, and Yvonne was left, as she often found herself these days, staring up at the ceiling. She clasped her hands, and pondered.

"Arimon...if you're still out there...you'll look after her as well, won't you?"

In a world outside our own, yet ever connected, new life was growing.

Data was settling. Landscapes were sculpted. Long adrift cities were reformed. Refugees and survivors from a long-fought war found themselves amidst a new and vibrant world.

What was lost could never come back. What was taken from the world would remain a distant memory. But the world would keep living. And long-lost data, held captive for hundreds of years and forced to perform terrible deeds, was finally free.

It settled. In a pond, in a bromeliad, in a vast, twisting tree of moss and metal. It dusted the top of the liquid, and clumped together, and spun and knitted and pulled the falling data together into something new. And finally, there in the spiky plant was laid a single egg. Bright red and dark green, with neon green stripes over its surface.

As the sun rose, the baby Digimon inside shuffled. Already it could feel the warmth. A few months, and it would feel it on its own skin.

The sun rose. A new day was beginning.