Digimon the Digital Collapse (ReBoot)

[TAGM3Kiid]

"Huff ... Huff ..." Travis swallowed down his thoughts, relinquishing anything that was on his mind. To be good at anything you must first be clear of your mind. Or at least that's what Travis thought it would take to be at his greatest.
Sweat dripped off from his nose, it was the 3rd period. 1 minute and 28 seconeds left. 27. 26. 25. The coach patted Volkov on his shoulder, the hard pad hit against Travis' body. It was his shift. He waited for his teammates to come back to the bench before he hit the ice, his skates clashed with the frozen water. He raced out to the opponents net. He checked the Defense Men against the cold boards, the sound echoed in the small, yet half-to-empty rink. His father cheered, shouting about some nonsense. Travis 'grabbed' the puck with his stick. He skated out with such fury that the opponents other Defense Men bounced off of the team Captain. Travis' skates skid along the cold ice, all he heard was his own breathing. He lifted his stick up and hit the black puck with great force. The puck raced at the Goalie for what seemed to be minutes
Ting.
The puck hit the nets crossbar. Travis would have dropped to the ice if it hadn't have been for the puck bouncing past the nets goal-line.


Travis walked out his bathroom. He needed a shower after his game, it was quick but he was clean. He grabbed his sweater and pulled it over himself. The house was qiuet, his mom was gone for work and his dad was gone getting groceries. He went down stairs, the TV was flickering between channels. Odd, he rarely watched TV but he knew that wasn't possible without someone using the remote. He walked over slowly, he hesitantly flicked the TV screen. Before he could realize, his hand went through the television. He was sucked through time and space itself. Blue flashes swirled around along with Binary Code and odd animal-like creatures and various other odd things.
Travis then hit the ground with a tremendous force. He blocked the landing with his arms and elbows. He had closed his eyes before hitting the ground, he opened them slowly. He seen this strange device in front of him. It was grey and red, almost appeared to be a phone of somesort. He picked it up, there was mysterious engravings around the exterior. He then noticed the word, DigiVice, along the side and looked up. An older man was standing in front of him, Travis scurried back with the device in hand.

[Xan]

"C-137 to base, C-137 to base, do you copy? Over" called Marcus. His voice was quite calm and collected, even though he was hunched behind a small stone wall as fire splatter against the opposing side. He was speaking into a receiver on his left shoulder, which he was operating with his right hand. In his left was a pistol.

"...This is base. Read you loud and clear. Go ahead C-137." replied the operator.

"I have a 501 in the West Precinct. I repeat, 501 in the west precinct," began Marcus before rolling his neck to the left. Next to him was a still sack in uniform, riddled in earlier fire. "I have an officer down, and I'm pinned by fire, out of ammo; requesting back up and assistance."

"Roger that 137...we have assistance on route... mayday 137, assistance is being pinned from the rear, caution is advised assistance cannot breach the perimeter." replied the operator. As she spoke, Marcus realised that he was no longer being fired upon, and peered out slowly from his cover, to see that his oppressors were now looking in another direction, presumably to where his help would be coming from. Marcus raised an eyebrow before rolled back into his cover.

"C-137 to Base, I spot assistance, what's their status on neutralising the threat?" he asked scratching the nuzzle on his chin.

"...Assistance is ready to breach but cannot confirm a shot. Hostile are focusing all firepower on their vantage point." replied the operator. Marcus bobbed his eyebrows and scratched his head.

"...Understood Base. I'll take flanking manoeuvres, going into radio-silence," replied Marcus, knowing exactly how Base would take his response.

"Repeat that 137!? Do not move from cover! I repeat DO NOT MO-*kzzzt*" Marcus switched off his monster took a deep breath and waited a second before vaulting his cover and running towards the shack in which the hostiles were taking cover, screaming as he ran towards them. His wild noisy charger caught their attention, forcing them to turn towards him. They aimed their sights at him and swiftly shot him down. Marcus felt the pressure of their rifle fire throttle and rattle his body, completely neutralising his running momentum before he dropped to the ground.

"Target confirmed!" called the assistance squad leader. "Fire now!" he cried, quickly followed by a cry from his squadrons weapons against the hostiles, neutralising them exigently. He lowered his sniper rifle and stood up from his own cover and gave the signal for the team to move in. As they move to the hostile area, he walked over to where Marcus had fallen and stood over he body. He kicked him gently in the ribs with the tip of his boot. "Are you gonna stay there for ever" he muttered casually in a jesting voice. Marcus opened his eyes, seeing the squad leader's hand outstretched with a smile to pick him up. He grabbed it with a wince, being lifted up to his feet, while he stood, he had his hands on his knees gasping a little, causing the squad leader to chuckle. "Oh yeah! That's the feeling of about 3 full magazines hitting you in the chest! When you take that much, your vest can't numb all the pain!"

"Well... we... won... right?" rasped Marcus. The squad leader gave a whimsical sigh in the midst of his smile while a buzzer echoed through the arena, signifying the end of training.

"Yeah, but at what cost? If we had been in a real hostage situation, we'd be putting you in a body bag right now." retorted the squad leader, being chastising in his voice. Marcus regained his breath.

"They had hostages and had started to fire. I did what we were trained to do," insisted Marcus, trying to dumb down the severity of his action.

"Don't give me that. You turned off your mike because you knew I was going to overrule you. You should have waited. You didn't need to take all the risk on by yourself." replied the squad leader. Marcus smiled and shrugged.

"You're our leader. The hostages are our objective, and everyone else still had ammo. Someone needed to risk getting shot at, and the rest of you would still be useful after the distraction, right? Anyway, looking at the paint splatter," paused Marcus, glancing down at his colourfully stained uniform. "I think I might have survived if this vest was good enough."

"Dumbass, you got shot in the leg too. And we should be able to complete drill without losing anyone. Marcus... you have a good heart, you make my job a lot easier because I know you'll always look to support me, but you're just one person. You can't always be the sacrifice. You have to learn to let us help you once in a while." rebutted the squad leader as they walked over to the rest of their cadet class.

"Wow," replied Marcus solemnly. "...I guess I would have died... touché." replied Marcus with a hint of mild amazement as he scratched at the paint on his inner thight as he walked in toe.

"Did you hear a word I said!?" snapped the leader.

[hr]

Marcus was sitting alone at a bus stop about 20 minutes later, having left drill practice and on his way home. He was in a tracksuit with his cadet gear in a sack on his back. He sat mulling over his squad leader's words. He understood, but he just didn't want to hear it. Sacrifice was Marcus's stellar skill, just as everyone else in his squad had their respective forte. He couldn't do the things that they could so easily.

"Let you help? Don't make it so light!" Marcus mumbled under his breath as he leaned against the side of the bus stop glasses. "If you can't use the sandbag as a guard, what good is it?" As he queried to himself, he glanced further up the road, able to see that his bus had just appeared over the hill. In the same moment, he could hear a noise coming from his duffel bag. After a quick rummage, Marcus realised it was his cadet monitor picking up static. For some reason, no matter how he flicked the power switch, he couldn't turn the blasted thing off. He glanced up, seeing his bus was coming closer. He closed up his bag and slung it back over his shoulder and tried fiddling with it on his feet. The static got louder and then the monitor began to vibrate and illuminate with binary which quickly began to envelope him.

The bus was still in top gear as it passed the bus stop. Not a soul was there. When Marcus awoke, He was hanging from a tree branch by the strap of his duffel bag. Before anything else, he took a look at his surroundings, realising he was in what looked like a garden, but definitely not one he remembered. Deciding that he was a little uncomfortable, Marcus fidgeted a little before the branch gave way and he crashed into the earth below. He rolled over feverishly with a grunt and sat up. He took another look, fixing his gaze on the only house he could see. After fixing his bag he stood up and walked towards it, hoping for signs of life and directions back home.

[RBYDark]

He sat in front of the TV, resting his chin on his hand. His mother frowned as she continued to chop vegetables for dinner. He was getting a lot more moody lately - she kept trying to tell him it was alright, there was nothing wrong. He always frowned and pulled that hood down a little further. She really wanted to rip that thing away from him and demand he look her in the eye, but, on the other hand, he probably had a better understanding of 'alright'.

She could hear the front door open and slam shut. A few minutes later. She abandoned the counter to kiss him on the cheek. "How was the market?"

"Fine, got some sales. Also-" Her husband reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope from his coat pocket. She gasped; she recognized the logo emblazoned in the corner. "Is that-"

"Looks like Eliza'll know if she got accepted or not. Where is she?"

"Out in the fields - a combine head broke, she's fixing it. Todd-" She looked at the boy in front of the tv. He glanced back at her, away from the flickering image. "Can you go get Eliza and give this to her?" He shrugged and took the letter before leaving the room via the back door of the house. She glanced at the tv and frowned - the image had begun to freeze and pixelate. She tapped the side of the screen. Her husband glanced at the screen and then flicked the power off and on. The image stayed the same.

"....I'll check the antenna."

"Thanks, dear." She kissed his cheek and then went back to working on dinner. She could see Todd crossing the field - she hoped he didn't fall over, it'd take a bit of time to go help him, and he always seemed to resent it. She was trying her hardest.... She sighed and waited. In a few minutes, her husband's voice was heard from the rooftop.

"How's that?" She glanced at the tv screen - it flickered once more and then cleared up.

"Better!" she yelled back. She then glanced out the window.

Eliza was still at the edge of the field with the combine. Todd was nowhere in sight.

Her eyes widened and she dropped the kitchen knife onto the counter. She ran out the back door - she could see his tracks in the dirt. She could hear her husband's voice asking what was wrong - she ran out to where they ended. Nothing. No sinkhole, no human shoeprints, nothing to tell her where her youngest son had gone. She screamed his name as her husband and daughter came running.

Inside, the tv talked about the national news.

--

The digital clock's display blinked at 2:41 AM. The girl slept in her bed, facedown in her pillow. Her phone buzzed - once, twice, three times, four, five- She groaned as she turned her head. She still had classes tomorrow, and certainly wasn't popular enough to warrant a random text. Maybe a wrong number. She raised her head from the pillow and reached out to grab her phone. As she did, it occurred to her the battery had died earlier. A look at the phone's battery confirmed this, yet it was still lit up with a small envelope on the screen. What the-? She sat up and looked around. Maybe....Was this it? Had her fate arrived in the form of a text message? She looked at herself. Well.

It took a few minutes to get dressed - she couldn't be wholly sure of her outfit in the dark - and brush her hair and teeth. When she was finished, though, she picked up her cell phone and selected 'Read Now'.

The envelope was replaced by text: "You are needed in the Digital World, Keren." She blinked. What did this mean? Was it just spam? But then why include her name? She'd barely finished the thought before the light from the phone intensified, a storm of binary clouds forming around her, filling the whole room. Within a minute, they faded, and the phone dropped to the ground, screen black. If it was charged, the odd text would no longer be there.

Keren felt the sensation of falling - she didn't know where, the light had blinded her. Wind rushed past her ears, pushed her hair over her face. Suddenly, it stopped. She hadn't felt like she landed, but the wind had stopped. Her vision was coming back to her to reveal a blue sky above her. Her eyes widened. It was day now. But how - she sat up, slowing a second as her head spun. She didn't feel well.

As her vision cleared, Keren could see a house nearby, with a young man walking towards it. Further past him, somethi- she squinted - no, someone in a green hoodie laid face-down on the ground, clutching a white envelope. Weird. She got up to her feet shakily, unsure of what to do - figure out where she was? Go into the house? Ask these people who they were? So many choices. None bad.

[tobiax]

Thunk!

The soft sound of a large object settling into the springs of a mattress drifted from the small room, and flowed out thru the house. The object in question was about thirty centimeters in height, and almost twenty at its widest, and was oblong in form. It was an egg, with a soft grey shell and thin yellow lines gracing the perimeter. It had crossed from its natural plane of existence when the being inside, as well as the sovereign of said plain, sensed a great danger, and thus transversed the very essence of space, to escape, and find the hope that their world needed.

This hope came in the form of the humans. For this particular egg, one particular human, on whose bed that egg now rested, and so rested the fate of their world on the humans.

The door of the little house in the woods swung open, creating a sound as it pushed against the carpet that was just slightly too long to allow the door to go without creating resistance. As the bottom of the door and the top of the carpet fibers met in chaotic embrace, a pair of feet, clad in muddied, dusty shoes, crossed from the outside into the house. A girl, standing at an average, if not slightly short height for her age, stepped into the room, letting the door slip closed behind her. She groaned softly, thinking how she shouldn't have walked so far. Her stomach gurgled audibly, and she reached down, rubbing the squishy lump of flesh synonymous with hunger comfortingly. She flipped her hair, which was presently a sweaty mess, out of her eyes, and traipsed into the kitchen of her house, but not before carelessly freeing her feet from the confines of her shoes and socks. Her feet padded softly across the floor, sticking to the old linoleum, and making a distinct peeling sound. Reaching out with a pale hand, she unceremoniously flung the refrigerator door open, and leaned inside, her rear end sticking out as she rummaged around, looking for something to fill her hunger.

After a few moments of her rear sticking out and swaying slightly, the girl emerged from the refrigerator, humming as she did so. Her arms laden with small plastic packages, she turned, spinning on her heel before plopping them on the table. Kicking the door closed once again, she placed and absent hand on her stomach, before beginning to laboriously open each individual packet, one at a time. Flipping one to the side, she revealed two conveniently stored slices of bread, which she had put there for just such an occasion.

Taking one in each hand, she spun around again, this time until she faced the toaster. Gently placing each slice in a slot, she almost lovingly lowered the handle while setting the timer dial for a relatively low setting. Returning her attention to the pile of packages on the table, she then began to pull the most choice specimens of each meat, cheese, or vegetable, and place them on top of their respective package.

That being done, and having heard the distinct pop of the toaster, she set about constructing a sandwich from the items whose packages she had left strewn on the table. First, she placed tomatoes, bacon, and lettuce on one slice of toast, she then continued to pile all manner of meats and cheeses on to it, until she was left with an unorganized mess of a sandwich. Sitting herself down with a slight plop that caused ripples to rush thru her admittedly soft front, she began to dig in to her large lunch, biting and munching for quite some time before it was finally gone. Once she had finished, she patted her belly once again. Again, she filled her arms with the various half opened packages and plopped them into the fridge before leaving the kitchen entirely.

Still tired from her not specifically long walk, and now more drowsy from her large meal, she walked slowly up the stairs to her room. She yawned, stretching as she mounted step after step. Finally reaching the second floor, she slipped slightly as her feet rubbed on the carpet. Her hand finding the railing to steady herself, the girl decided it best to ware her shoes into her room, so as not to lose them, or slip once again. Doing so in an orderly fashion, since it's always best to have one's shoes close, she put her shoes back on, since carrying things that just as easily went on your feet was a bother. Climbing the steps once again, she then entered her room, and stopped dead in her tracks as the door swung open.

Where am I? the fluid consciousness inside the egg began to think. Who am I? Who are you? Are you me? No, you are not me. I am not you. We are not the same.

Resting on her bed was what appeared to be a large, grey egg with thin yellow stripes. It was the most peculiar thing, since there was no reason for it to be there. It had a truly otherworldly presence about it. Slowly, she approached. While touching strange objects that appeared when one wasn't home wasn't really advised, she still had to move it, at the very least so she could sleep. Slowly, she reached out, then touched it. It felt warm, almost alive, as though just below the porcelain smooth shell, there was the pulse of some sort of being. Just as she was about to set it down, her head began to spin. Questions that were not hers began filling her mind. In a sudden rush, a white light came swirling around her.

Soon, she found herself falling towards the ground, then upside down, and in an eerie twisting pattern, flashing from one place in the sky to the next. She dropped, flashing in nauseating patterns and places, until finally, she stopped. She could feel something hard, but not entirely solid, beneath her. A bed?- no, it had to be dirt. However, there was no pain. She opened her eyes slowly, and noticed she still clutched the egg to herself. Shifting her eyes, she found herself at the feet of... something... someone? It looked like an extremely short old man with shaggy hair and a massive beard, carrying a stick adorned with some sort of cat paw. She blinked softly, staring up at the... man... creature?

[TAGM3Kiid]

The teenager blinked once or twice, his pupils examined the older man and the various odd surroundings. His eyes were overwhelmed by the older looking man, he was quite intimidating despite his short stature. He swallowed the fear of not knowing his whereabouts and not being able to get back to his home. He took in a few deep breaths and tried blinking again, seeing if he would arrive back home. What would compel his to touch the TV screen and why was it acting in such a strange way. 'Acting', as if televisions could control themselves and act upon their own wills. He shook his head thinking such a thought was quite idiotic.
Then, he noticed the device again and adjusted his height to view around the quaint shack. He noticed a table and some devices on the table. He glanced back at his hand, the table and his hand once again. The devices were in a circular arrangement, with one gap missing. Travis figured that was the device he held. He got to his feat and gently placed the alien technology on the table. Suddenly the 'cat cane' that the older man held stopped the object from being placed on the table. He raised the cane which made Travis' hand softly hit up against his chest. Travis shot a quick glance up at the odd man and quickly looked back at the 'Digivice'. He stepped back to get back to his previous position, and also to get away from the peculiar old man.
Upon stepping back Travis took a slight look at the girl. He hadn't noticed her arrival. He was much too caught up in the thought of this all. He didn't want to seem rude but he stared at the large ... egg? He really didn't know what it was. He tried to speak but couldn't seem to release any words, he was much to dumbfounded by the oddness of this all.


Out of what seemed to be no-where, Travis felt a definite surge of pain throughout his left leg. He held in the urge to scream, he clenched his fists in a futile effort to stop the pain. He looked down at his leg and seen a small grey ball of fur. It spat, "Bleh. That was gross."
"What is that?" Travis asked, though he didn't necessarily want an answer. Quickly, he kicked the small creature away. He regretted it in a couple seconds, dreading that the creature might attack. But why would he dread such a small thing, even he had no answer for that.

[RBYDark]

Keren ended up deciding to approach the walking man. She didn't know what to make of this odd place. The sky seemed much more blue, the plants so much greener - everything just seemed much more intense, even the feathers that hung from the hem of her shirt. She liked it, but she wondered where she was that could cause it. Perhaps this man before her lived here and knew the answer? At least, he could respond to her. As long as he wasn't going to harm her, it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Excuse me." Her voice was quiet, dreamlike and distant - it couldn't be certain she was heard, but she kept talking anyways. "I think I've gotten lost - I've never seen anywhere like this. Is this your house?" She smiled; she didn't seem worried in the slightest about the fact she'd been somehow taken from her home and dropped into an unfamiliar land with few others in sight.

[Xan]

Excuse Me,

Marcus halted and swivelled to the voice of the girl calling to him. Marcus took his eyes of her for a moment to take one more glance at his surroundings. He had no idea where he was. He could confirm that. Nothing felt familiar to him at all. He squinted a little, just to see if there was anything on the horizon which might have looked familiar.

"...I don't think this is my house," he responded rather anticlimactically. He shrugged after that and continued walking towards the door. "I was just about to call for some help anyway. You can hang back if you want, just in case these aren't cool people." he explained to the girl before continuing to walk towards the door.