The gate between the worlds was about to open up like a predator’s hungry maw. In preparation, several Penguinmon busied themselves around a large bonfire, preparing for the arrival of their would-be saviors. Their little village on the back of KingWhamon was going to welcome the chosen humans to the Digital world and they knew they needed the place to look as festive and non-threatening as possible. According to their King, humans were not so easily adaptable to a change in dimensions as some digimon might be, and would need to feel comfortable or may end up hurting someone.
It also helped, of course, that their partner digimon were already here, for the most part. They knew of the arrival of their partners, and the strange fog that has been plaguing the Archipelago, but they were still yet aware the two were connected. When sovereigns of the Digital World called to you in their mysterious way and lead you to the Son of the Sea and his waiting forest you generally didn’t ask questions. Some of the partner digimon had to be given a shove by some playful pranks here and there, but they were all going to end up here by the time their partner’s returned. The partners that had arrived by now were all told that their partner’s may be apprehensive at first, and to try and be as welcoming as possible. The Penguinmon prepared special huts for each partnered pair that the digimon were welcomed to decorate.
A lone Penguinmon wearing a crown stood at the outskirts of the village, seemingly immune to the excitement. He stood guard at a dock built onto KingWhamon’s side directly across from a similar dock on a neighboring island. Some of the digimon expected to show up for the arrival had not yet made an appearance. The crowned Digimon seemed to frown, his thoughts full of unwilling ignorance. Had his beloved subjects become consumed once more by this Dark Ocean? He dared not leave until he was for sure, anchored as he was by his resentment for this invader. Centuries spent on keeping his home safe, and now a force too scared to show its face was threatening that safety? The Son of the Sea longed for the day his wrath would be carried out by his chosen.
Across time and space in another world was a racket of loud voices and dinging metal. Many customers sat around in booths and in chairs as food was shuffled out of a noisy kitchen by staff far too keen at switching their facial expressions from anger to glee at a moment’s notice. One particular waitress was dealing with a particularly rude customer at the moment when her phone would start ringing. Peculiarly enough, she was for sure it had been on silent. Had she tried to turn it off, hang up, or otherwise ignore it, the ringing would not cease.
Chains rattled and swayed as they struggled to hold a large dummy whom was currently taking a beating. Sweat dripped off a young girl’s brow as, blow after blow, she took out her frustrations. She had become lost to time, training by herself here as she sometimes did. The gym was cheap and if she came at the right time, it was all to herself. Loneliness was something she was used to, whether or not by choice. So it would only seem right the ringing of her personal phone would be a welcome distraction from her current state.
A soft beat accompanied by the soft sounds of rain hung in the air like a sweet-smelling perfume as a young man poured over his books. Dreams of a better world gave him his drive, but the slog of studying he was going to have to put himself through seemed intent on burying his dreams. Every way he turned it seemed like his teachers were intent on flushing him out with asinine questions pulled from text book captions and increasingly nebulous interpretive essays. If he did not pay attention to the most minutia of detail he’d find himself closer and closer to failure. As if purposefully trying to divide the attention he needed to pay, a ring from his phone suggested a break.
A dark room, illuminated only by the light of screens, was suddenly filled with the sound of ringing. A young man of small stature lay in bed, shaken begrudgingly awake by the cacophony. Naps were always hard to come by when you lost hours at a time to your creative spark. The ringing seemed to ping off of every electronic he had, suggesting the same person was trying to reach him in as many ways as possible. Somebody cared that much? Since when?
Small orbs of light floated through the darkening sky towards a young girl’s bedroom. Like fireflies they flitted about, playing with each other as their soft glow painted abstract pictures in the sky. They would be impossible to miss as they drew closer and closer. The young girl in whose bedroom was in question found herself drawn to her window, transfixed at these floating lights that seemed to belong to a forgotten dream. Their glow was almost hypnotic, and would surely lead her to trance had her phone not began to ring in her hand.
As each of the perspective chosen found themselves alone, answering an unknown call, sparks of static electricity would seem to permeate the air. Reality would seem to fade momentarily to fog. A familiar sound of ocean waves would slowly take over for the incessant ringing in their ears, and a blinding radiance would leave them briefly alone in a world of light. Scents of an ocean breeze, the popping sound of fire wood, and the feeling of soft ground beneath their feet would soon replace all sensations they had before as they would soon find themselves, separated, in small rooms with walls made of straw.
Outside voices died to a whisper as they had seen flashes of light from each perspective hut. Were they here? Was it time? The village square ground to a halt. Tables of food, torches, and hanging tapestries awaited, a small festival of celebration held for the arrival of these few chosen awaited them outside. A king stirred beneath it all, relieved that the reception would soon begin.
It also helped, of course, that their partner digimon were already here, for the most part. They knew of the arrival of their partners, and the strange fog that has been plaguing the Archipelago, but they were still yet aware the two were connected. When sovereigns of the Digital World called to you in their mysterious way and lead you to the Son of the Sea and his waiting forest you generally didn’t ask questions. Some of the partner digimon had to be given a shove by some playful pranks here and there, but they were all going to end up here by the time their partner’s returned. The partners that had arrived by now were all told that their partner’s may be apprehensive at first, and to try and be as welcoming as possible. The Penguinmon prepared special huts for each partnered pair that the digimon were welcomed to decorate.
A lone Penguinmon wearing a crown stood at the outskirts of the village, seemingly immune to the excitement. He stood guard at a dock built onto KingWhamon’s side directly across from a similar dock on a neighboring island. Some of the digimon expected to show up for the arrival had not yet made an appearance. The crowned Digimon seemed to frown, his thoughts full of unwilling ignorance. Had his beloved subjects become consumed once more by this Dark Ocean? He dared not leave until he was for sure, anchored as he was by his resentment for this invader. Centuries spent on keeping his home safe, and now a force too scared to show its face was threatening that safety? The Son of the Sea longed for the day his wrath would be carried out by his chosen.
Across time and space in another world was a racket of loud voices and dinging metal. Many customers sat around in booths and in chairs as food was shuffled out of a noisy kitchen by staff far too keen at switching their facial expressions from anger to glee at a moment’s notice. One particular waitress was dealing with a particularly rude customer at the moment when her phone would start ringing. Peculiarly enough, she was for sure it had been on silent. Had she tried to turn it off, hang up, or otherwise ignore it, the ringing would not cease.
Chains rattled and swayed as they struggled to hold a large dummy whom was currently taking a beating. Sweat dripped off a young girl’s brow as, blow after blow, she took out her frustrations. She had become lost to time, training by herself here as she sometimes did. The gym was cheap and if she came at the right time, it was all to herself. Loneliness was something she was used to, whether or not by choice. So it would only seem right the ringing of her personal phone would be a welcome distraction from her current state.
A soft beat accompanied by the soft sounds of rain hung in the air like a sweet-smelling perfume as a young man poured over his books. Dreams of a better world gave him his drive, but the slog of studying he was going to have to put himself through seemed intent on burying his dreams. Every way he turned it seemed like his teachers were intent on flushing him out with asinine questions pulled from text book captions and increasingly nebulous interpretive essays. If he did not pay attention to the most minutia of detail he’d find himself closer and closer to failure. As if purposefully trying to divide the attention he needed to pay, a ring from his phone suggested a break.
A dark room, illuminated only by the light of screens, was suddenly filled with the sound of ringing. A young man of small stature lay in bed, shaken begrudgingly awake by the cacophony. Naps were always hard to come by when you lost hours at a time to your creative spark. The ringing seemed to ping off of every electronic he had, suggesting the same person was trying to reach him in as many ways as possible. Somebody cared that much? Since when?
Small orbs of light floated through the darkening sky towards a young girl’s bedroom. Like fireflies they flitted about, playing with each other as their soft glow painted abstract pictures in the sky. They would be impossible to miss as they drew closer and closer. The young girl in whose bedroom was in question found herself drawn to her window, transfixed at these floating lights that seemed to belong to a forgotten dream. Their glow was almost hypnotic, and would surely lead her to trance had her phone not began to ring in her hand.
As each of the perspective chosen found themselves alone, answering an unknown call, sparks of static electricity would seem to permeate the air. Reality would seem to fade momentarily to fog. A familiar sound of ocean waves would slowly take over for the incessant ringing in their ears, and a blinding radiance would leave them briefly alone in a world of light. Scents of an ocean breeze, the popping sound of fire wood, and the feeling of soft ground beneath their feet would soon replace all sensations they had before as they would soon find themselves, separated, in small rooms with walls made of straw.
Outside voices died to a whisper as they had seen flashes of light from each perspective hut. Were they here? Was it time? The village square ground to a halt. Tables of food, torches, and hanging tapestries awaited, a small festival of celebration held for the arrival of these few chosen awaited them outside. A king stirred beneath it all, relieved that the reception would soon begin.
