Fish of Oblivion

Digimon: The Convergence of the Human and Digital Worlds

@Fish of Oblivion That was cool.

So, now, tactically, to kill Moon-Millenniummon, what's my best option? Activating the Rebellion Core while in Rodendramon's form to activate Hunts Mode(with wings)? Energy attacks? And particular elemental damage to suggest?
I mean, I'm assuming we're trying for the not-horrible end?

@tobiax

Danke.

And so long as Jordan/Rodendramon don't go full retard and try soloing it, most things should work after a point. Not planning to kill anyone off, so do feel free to get creative, but it's gonna be a definite team effort to take Moonie down, so play as smart as possible.

Digimon: The Convergence of the Human and Digital Worlds

As the crystal at the eye of the storm in time and space set itself to its metamorphosis, each of those consigned to their mental prisons before it took to their situation differently.
___
Helplessness was what ate away at Examon.

He found himself collapsed onto the ground, wounded and unable to move. Above him, the sun was setting, the darkening orange sky above almost seeming to join with the scorched, bloodstained ground around him. The corpses from the battle had dispersed into data long before then, but that only served to make the scene more nightmarish; he could see for himself how few of them remained.

Besides a handful of Knightmon and other troops, many missing limbs or more, the only survivors on his side were Gallantmon and MachGaogamon, who themselves seemed worn down and battered. The Armoured Duke seemed to have a broken arm and several punctures in his armour, whilst Examon’s Captain was carefully nursing a long and jagged open wound in his chest that was plainly visible through his destroyed makeshift breastplate; Examon himself didn’t need to look at himself to know what had him down on the ground, as the sensation of the giant spear rammed through his abdomen spoke for itself.

The other survivors were not of their own ranks; a gaggle of Angels and Demons, too wounded and outnumbered to put up a fight against the Knight survivors as they were taken prisoner.

But they wouldn’t stay outnumbered for long.

“I know how you feel, but we can’t stay and mourn, even for a second.” MachGaogamon’s voice was little more than a growl as he abandoned formality to talk directly to Gallantmon; not from frustration or impudence, but from the sheer pain of the opening in his chest. “The only reason we won is that they didn’t have any of their leaders with them, and with the racket we kicked up, I doubt that’ll go for whatever comes to finish us off. Gankoomon and Hackmon’s sacrifice won’t mean anything if we don’t move and get the rest of the men back at camp out of here as soon as possible!”

Gallantmon began to respond, but Examon’s focus was already fading; both the Examon at that point in time and the one who felt chills cut through him as he remembered how this ended. He survived, as did Gallantmon and MachGaogamon when the situation pushed him to a miraculous Digivolution; but their hesitation and his wounds cost their men dearly, and mere tens of men escaped with their lives out of the thousands who’d ventured out to try and attack an apparent weak point of the enemy stronghold.

Gankoomon and the bright young Digimon he’d had so many hopes for had given their lives to buy them time and the chance to make it back to base. And because he’d been unable to fight alongside Gallantmon and MirageGaogamon, that sacrifice had gone to waste as far too many good men died to the savage monster that served as Captain under one of the rebel Seraphimon.

He wanted to scream, to get up and yell at himself and the others to run and stop the horrors that were coming: but it was hopeless. He felt even less control over his body than he had then; and he felt even more helpless as he realized what would soon result of the bloody battles with the rebel celestials.

This is where it all began. Old, deep wounds were opened once more, and Examon realized how little their victory over Imperialdramon had mattered.

The Knights had become worse than the rebels that would become the Demon Lords, and he’d been helpless to stop it.
___
Rank despair and terror was what met Siggy.

Unlike Examon, he wasn’t dragged towards any one place in time, or even a single continuity of events. No, what he saw as his mind’s connection to time unravelled around him was of countless futures, each one worse than the last.

He hadn’t realized it at the time, but Dirk’s death had affected him greatly. One wound amongst countless others, going untreated until it was too late. Now that was the cornerstone of what he saw. Once the initial thousand visions of Moon=Millenniummon’s victory and the wiping of his consciousness faded away, the thousand visions that came next offered nothing better. With Dirk gone, their numbers and morale were down: and so defeating the abomination came at too high a price.

One after another, he saw his friends cut down. BanchoLeomon was the most vulnerable to attack once he was deprived of his power: the Gakuran he wore prevented the crystals from making it all the way through his body, but did nothing to prevent them from effortlessly puncturing his chest, smashing through his sternum and killing him instantly as his organs were shredded. UlforceVeedramon was hardly any safer: though his armour protected him on all sides, a single well-timed crescent at a moment of mental vulnerability shattered his consciousness beyond repair, and a rain of countless crystal spires similarly rent his body. Rodendramon risked all in a life-or-death charge against the monster; and found himself rewarded with something far worse as it ripped open a window to a distant hellscape, banishing him to a place beyond words where he would be lucky to starve. Dynasmon’s vicious assaults on Moon=Millenniummon warranted particular attention; once he was finally depleted of the strength to use the Wyvern, the monster turned his sight upon him and gave him a slow and painful death, dissolving his entire body byte by byte beneath the harsh light of his spectral glare until only a red core remained, only to be similarly immolated. Dorugoramon was granted perhaps the worst deaths of all; fighting to her very last, Millenniummon blasted her from the sky with sheer overwhelming firepower, ruining her wings and body and sending her crashing down into the waters of the bay to drown and die in the panicked despair of a broken bird as it turned its attention back to the others. He and Examon died too many times to count; whether it was through being blasted into atoms, shredded beneath a rain of crystal or left to bleed out from myriad wounds, more often than not he was catapulted to the next timeline by a premature demise.

But it was not just the toll of lives that was terrible. The toll taken on their minds was worse. Timelines seemed to exist where Moon=Millenniummon fell. Whatever relief that fact may have offered was reduced to nothing as he saw what those worlds had waiting for the survivors of the battle.

Loss stripped Lucas of whatever was left of his restraint. The only survivor besides his friend, Siggy could do nothing to stop him as he threw himself with self-destructive abandon towards the cause of stopping continuing conflict between the two worlds. Even the interventions and efforts of the Sovereigns failed to save him from himself. Within a few years, he and Leomon fell down on another battlefield, fighting yet another group of humans who exploited Digimon for their own purposes.

Broken at last, Elle seemed to waste away as slowly and painfully as she did in the timelines where she died in battle with Moon=Millenniummon. When the dust cleared and all but Siggy and her were left as mutilated corpses in the ruins of Tokyo, crippling survivor’s guilt developed into outright psychosis and shut her out of the world around her. This time, Wizardmon’s words could do nothing to rouse her; and once again Siggy could do nothing to help as she spent the rest of her life locked up in her own mind.

Leon’s passions turned on the other survivors after the battle concluded. The same sense of responsibility that had nearly turned him on the others after the early incidents in Tokyo returned with a vengeance. As the awful wreckage of the battle saw the death toll reach into the hundreds of thousands, and as Elle and Dynasmon gave up their lives to protect him and the wounded UlforceVeedramon from the final attacks of Moon=Millenniummon, he cursed out and swore off the other survivors, and the Digimon whose powers had led to this outcome. When the next war came, and the Digimon left in the other world found their lives at risk, a broken Leon ranked amongst those who fought to imprison and destroy them.

Jordan seemed to undergo the most drastic transformation of all. The feelings of responsibility and survivor’s guilt brought him low as they did Lucas, Elle and Leon in the other worlds, but seemed to drive him almost wholly mad. Disappearing into the aether mere hours after the conclusion of the disaster, Jordan returned to the world several weeks later in the visage of a man possessed by a demon of conquest; with the Digital World itself as his prize. This time, the Sovereigns were as blindsided as Siggy himself; Shrewmon was nowhere to be found, and Jordan’s conquest seemed hinged on some external force. But despite his best efforts to discover and come to terms with what had happened to Jordan and his pleas to the Sovereigns to detain him rather than kill him, the sheer body count and number of captives that Jordan racked up in his mad crusade to obtain the Digital World and its secrets twisted their hand. Siggy could do nothing as Jordan was put down by the Sovereigns, judgement rendered beneath the wrath of Baihumon.

But perhaps worst of all was how it affected Zei.

Siggy had seen for himself how badly Dirk’s death at the hands at Takada had affected her, how it transformed Dorumon and her into a rampaging engine of destruction. But when the dust cleared and she was returned to her individual form from the biomerge, things only worsened.

He found himself sitting in a hospital waiting room, frozen in place by helpless fatigue. “We won’t be able to release her for a while,” he heard someone say. He was stuck looking at the floor, unable to even look up. “Besides the fact she lost a lot of blood, we can’t risk her being left to her own devices again.”

At this point, Siggy wasn’t even certain what had happened to Zei. At this point, it was far too much to bear thinking about, possibilities too horrible to entertain. His mind, however, connected the dots: an attempt at suicide seemed like the obvious conclusion, the inevitable endpoint of their awful journey. And as before, he’d been completely helpless to stop it. Unable to help her. Unable to keep their victory alive as their worlds fell apart around them even with Moon=Millenniummon defeated.

He didn’t know how many of them had survived in this world. In a way, he didn’t want to know. Regardless of what happened, they were all doomed; whether by the hands of Moon=Millenniummon, their own demons or their sheer futile helplessness, inevitability coming rolling down like a boulder to crush them.
___
Parasimon, however, felt something else.

The visions of his past did little to set doubt in his mind. For better or worse, he’d accepted his path, resolving himself to doing what he could to make amends by fulfilling the duty he’d long claimed to carry out. Those visions did little but reassure him of that resolve.

But as those long, dark years faded away, the future was laid bare before him.

He saw himself cut down in one well-placed attack by the fully-formed abomination that emerged from Moon=Millenniummon. The single strike painlessly rendered him down into atoms and bytes of data that were scattered across the universe in an instant, and the world of that timeline went dark.

Some amount of time passed as he reeled from the shock. His senses were suddenly restored to him as he was catapulted into another world. Even before he could comprehend what this one bid for him, his senses told him all he needed to know. The all-encompassing, icy void of space was all around him, and he looked down to see the whole of the earth beyond ruined, split apart like a glass orb that had had a hammer brought down upon it. The oceans and seas had been vaporized and the atmosphere blown apart by the sheer power that had torn it asunder. Worse yet, the red-hot glowing innards of the planet spilled out into the vacuum, illuminating all kinds of nightmarish debris as it spread out across the void; and behind the ruined world, the sight of his own torn asunder was visible through a wound in space and time, the escape route of an abomination starved for destruction.

The sight was enough to make even his stomach fill with ice-cold dread, and the sheer horror sent him catapulting into another timeline. This time, he felt himself stretched out across the ground; and also felt his entire body burning as if it had been devoured by the flames of the Lord of Wrath. His vision failed him- his eyes were clouding over and all he could perceive was the light of the sun pressing down on him- but his hearing worked well enough to inform him of the situation.

“If this is a victory-”

“It’s all our fault- if only we’d given the operation more time-”

“Damn it, you can’t go now! Come on, stay with us, you bastard!”

His senses cut out, and he felt darkness overcome him and his body waste away down to nothing once more.

The experience continued, and much as before. Timeline after timeline, it was the same over and over. In some worlds, Parasimon died in an instant against Moon=Millenniummon or the monstrosity that emerged from the terrible cocoon it had formed. In others, efforts against Moon=Millenniummon cost him his life, but seemed to clinch the victory that spared both worlds. But most terrifyingly, all the ones where he survived to see what lay beyond the battle bore the same result.

Both worlds in ruin, and countless billions dead. An abomination of unfathomable power let loose on the various worlds that lay beyond theirs, leaving a pitch-black, desolate void with all but a few survivors left to starve or die of the cold.

His comrades and their futures boasted countless terrible outcomes, an unfolding kaleidoscope of death and despair. For Parasimon, however, there were only two possibilities: and the conclusion that they offered was clear.

It was him or the world.

Digimon: The Convergence of the Human and Digital Worlds

Post is almost done, at long last. I'll polish it and try and get it out by the weekend, just picked up some work and might be talking to supervisors about postgrad.

Digimon: The Convergence of the Human and Digital Worlds

spent my easter break writing a 10,000 word shitpost about king arthur

i wanna die

Digimon - The Parallel Visage

At first, anger had carried Dante forward like a gale, tireless and unstoppable. His little epiphany had hit him and his sense of reason hard, and all he could think of as he plunged deeper and deeper into the woods was getting back what they’d taken from him- what they’d taken from his sister- and giving those two pink sons of bitches every piece of his mind.

That had been the case at first, at least. But whilst Dante was in good shape, he was not a storm crashing through the trees: and whilst he was certainly furious, as people tend to be when their one line in the sand is crossed, he couldn’t sustain that fury indefinitely. After a few fruitless minutes of moving deeper and deeper into the woods after the two retreating Digimon, he found his breath getting shorter and shorter, a stitch etching through his side as he became conscious of how dehydrated and disoriented he had felt just moments before. And as he became conscious of that, he became conscious of his whole situation once more.

He would have swore, but words didn’t come easily as he grabbed a nearby tree branch to stop himself from falling over. Anger throbbed in and out of his head, refusing to give up just yet, but soon found itself beaten back into an emotional coalition between anxiety, fear and self-frustration.

He’d fucked up. He’d really fucked up. He’d lost his cool, lost his sister’s belongings to those things, and gotten himself lost altogether in this godforsaken place. Only the remaining fragments of his anger stopped him from crying out of sheer frustration. Not that it helped him clear his mind at all, as he sat there with his mind going a mile a minute trying to figure out what the hell to do.

The clearing couldn’t have been too far back: maybe he could make his way back there before it was too late. He hadn’t seen anything on the way over, and with the head start the blobs had gotten, it didn’t seem likely he’d catch up to them now anyway.

“God damn it.” That very fact rankled at him, feeding back into his guilt and frustration. Only the gritting of his teeth and series of deep, angry breaths beat back the moisture collecting at the corner of his eyes. He’d get the 3DS back soon as he could. He’d be sure of that.

So, sighing and shaking his head, he turned to look back the way he came-

And the soft breeze drifting along through the woods carried a repulsive smell of burning matter straight into his face.

Moisture began to collect in his eyes again, this time his body’s instant reaction to the acrid smell being swept into it. Blinking them quickly shut, he quickly covered his nose: he wasn’t a stranger to the smell of burning wood, not by any stretch of the imagination. But there was another smell mixed in with it, one that almost turned his already-agitated stomach.

Countless horrible thoughts sprung into his head in an attempt to figure out the origin of this smell: and for a few moments, he stayed where he was, letting them envelop him. But a moment later, he shooed them away. He could still get back. He just had to be quick, and take a different route.

And so he decided to head further into the side of the path he’d came, going slowly and carefully with his hand still over his mouth and nose. If he was lucky, he’d miss whatever the hell was causing that smell entirely.

The smell, however, only intensified as Dante walked. No smoke seemed to rise anywhere over the treetops to warn Dante from where the smoke came, only the increasing stench of charred grass, burnt wood, and scorched meat (hopefully just meat). The bare trees began to thin, and Dante passed a fallen trunk - separated from its base by a peculiar round gap with charcoal edges. Ahead was a glimpse of a tree trunk, far more massive than anything seen in the forest; perhaps far more massive than any tree back on Earth. There seemed to be some colors strewn about, barely visible between the trees ahead. A bit of black, some red, a touch of violet-

Pink.

He froze. Thoughts of self-preservation and safe return found themselves challenged by a renewed desire to catch up to the creatures that had stolen from him and his sister: but as he removed his hand from his mouth-

“...!” No words came as the stench of scorched earth, wood and flesh came full-on into his face, and instead he quickly returned his mouth to his hand and nose. His mind reeled, but one thought now managed to beat all the others out.

Whatever was up ahead, it had to be the source of the awful smell. And with the awful sensation lingering in his mind and nose, that fact was enough to tip the balance. Self-preservation won this round. The thought of the two Digimon up ahead with his sister’s 3DS made him feel almost as sick as the stench did: but after the horror and soul-searching frustration of the last few minutes, this time Dante thought better of it.

It was time to get out of here.

The atmosphere changed once Dante retched. There was still something barely audible, incoherent coming from the new clearing, but it was as if Dante had pierced some invisible balloon, and it was the second before the air rushed out with a loud bang.
Indeed, it seemed like his involuntary reaction to the foul stench in the air had disturbed the very world around him. With the exception of the bizarre noise from up ahead, all other sounds began to slowly fade out to nothing: like the chords of the last song on the album declining into a faint mumble before being replaced with the whirring of the stereo’s mechanisms. Dante didn’t make much of this at first, the way the beating of his blood through his ears already drowned out much of the sound around him. But as the eerie quiet grew to an oppressive silence, he picked up his pace.

And then he stopped entirely.

In his attempt to move away from the clearing that the smell was emerging from, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Though they were a distance away, as was the mouth of that clearing that ominously sat amidst the thick trees it served as a breach into, he could see a collection of figures. At his present range of vision, he could barely make anything out about them: but in this bizarre situation, those minute, irrelevant details and their familiarity was all he needed.

Dante didn’t dare call out to the others. Cautious uncertainty tempered any sense of relief he felt at the thought of catching back up to them: but more than that, he didn’t dare break the silence that had crept up on him. So instead, he began to approach, beginning to angle around carefully in an arc-

His caution was wise, but came too late. Though it had taken its time, the consequence of his involuntary actions chose that moment to strike.

The air rushed out with a silent bang - or, rather, a shaky gasp of air that seemed to come from somewhere behind Dante’s head despite nobody being there. Everything had at last gone deadly silent, and the minute twitches of the figures stopped entirely. Then, the gap to the clearing was filled by a mix of colors, concentrated into the form of a small humanoid. Its blank - face? Whatever was in the head area, a stark white compared to the vivid colors covering the rest of its form - stared at Dante, pinning him with a gaze. Dante didn’t even have to blink before the humanoid closed the gap without movement, not even a meter away now. The face looked like a mask, unable to show emotion or react, but Dante could get the impression this creature was grinning at him.

There was no extended thought process this time. Like Dante’s moment of epiphany in the clearing, the sudden appearance of the figure in front of him brought his thoughts to a crashing halt: only, this time, his movement came to a halt too as he flinched and wordlessly jumped back.

A few moments passed in silence. Dante stared at the figure, blinking once or twice as colour slowly returned to his face and ice-cold tension left his body. Though the creature was too close for comfort, it didn’t seem horribly intimidating at first: second impressions, however, made short work of that. Though it was so much shorter than him- bigger than the other two, certainly, but that wasn’t saying much- whatever comfort his height might have afforded him dwindled to just about nothing with how it floated over half a meter off the ground to stare into his face.

The face, in fact, was just the other thing. Their clothes were unassuming, if strange. The mask, on the other hand, and the demeanour that crept out from behind it, was deeply disconcerting.

“... Hello there?” It was a long shot among long shots, but as Dante finally found his voice, he just hoped this one was more friendly than the other two had been. With how it was floating before him, the view of the others a (now much shorter) distance away disappeared behind it: and the presence of mind remained to suggest trying to sneak a peek around it would not be a good idea.

“Hi there!” The humanoid was shorter than Dante, and he - judging by the voice - sounded just like a child. “It’s our turn to play, right?” The head tilted. It was if this being hadn’t just left a scene of potential carnage, scaring Dante with a sudden teleportation trick, and now was uncomfortably close in his personal space. But, on the other hand, he didn’t sound quite as rude as the little round pink creature, nor as evasive as the more willowy pink creature. Just, very interested.

Dante didn’t respond right away. The creature sounded friendly, but he knew full well how little that could actually mean. Pre-emptively, he took another step back: going carefully to not offend him. “Sure, I guess?” Maybe the ‘child’ was from one of the villages the blobs had mentioned? Maybe this was just normal behaviour for this place. “Do you think you could help me?” As he watched the figure at their new distance, his eyes darted about, scanning the forest around them for any possible escape route. “I’m-”

He didn’t finish. Dante realized only too late that he’d slipped up: his eyes had wandered to behind the ‘child’ as he looked around for an exit. First, creeping horror filled him as he realized what he’d done.

Then another kind of horror filled him as he felt pressure fill the air around him.

“We’re gonna play!” Dante’s movement was abruptly arrested by something he couldn’t see, yet it grasped him around the upper arms and chest like a vice. The ‘child’ giggled. “Us and your friends!” He glanced behind Dante. “Where are they anyways?” He knew. He knew Dante wasn’t alone. “I dunno if I’m up for another game of hide and seek.” The pout was almost audible. “And I don’t wanna keep playing that. Gets boring. But I think I know how to find them.”

The child digimon giggled as he hoisted Dante higher into the air. Right below the human’s chest, a long, jagged, violet crystal materialized, its point aimed at his chest. Colour drained back out of the boy’s face as he watched it hover mere inches before him: his wide eyes, meanwhile, fell upon the others that he could now clearly see, and his expression was blank with the trauma of realization.

“Oh guuuys! I know you’re here too, I know he didn’t come here alone! So why you don’t come out and play before he slips?”

Old One Rising (A Lovecraftian adventure-horror RP) (Reboot)

@ONL FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Yeah, alive, more or less: university just kind of ended up kicking my ass something awful with dissertation work and assignment prep. Really sorry for all the holdup, I'll let @RBYDark bully me into working on a post sometime this week!

Digimon - The Parallel Visage

Time for a PSA (Phish Service Announcement): New Digimon Adventure Tri at the weekend!

Old One Rising (A Lovecraftian adventure-horror RP) (Reboot)

@ONL ... OH FUCK I COMPLETELY FORGOT I WAS DUE FOR THIS

I'll take a look at getting something done sometime this week? Working on dissertation stuff, but in a pretty decent place overall, so I'll get off my ass and get something done, at least.

Digimon - The Parallel Visage

As the seemingly older of the two girls spoke up and placed herself between Dante and the blobs, he paused, before he stepped a little to the side. Whatever the gesture had been meant to achieve, he wanted a clear view of the creatures and what they’d supposedly taken; he still couldn’t make much else other than the shapes of their bodies from within the bubbles they’d summoned.

That, though, was interrupted yet again by the larger of the two blobs raising their- his?- voice.

The first response that they threw back at the group was, as far as he could make sense of it, as much of a nothing as everything else they’d said up until that point. Worse than that, it was a selective nothing. It seemed that the boy who’d charged them was the only one they bothered to grace with their attention.

Dante felt panicked anger spike up again; but thankfully, before he could do or say something he’d regret, the blob decided to finally give something resembling an actual explanation.

"It's like my sister said-” So, he was a he after all? ”- you are in the digital world.” And then came the rest, a bevy of information ranging from helpful to patently absurd, all delivered with a face so straight that a professional poker player would have broken out in a cold sweat at the sight of it.

It wasn’t a perfect explanation. It wasn’t even a particularly good explanation, as far as Dante’s frantically angry mind was concerned. But nonetheless, it was an explanation and that same mind latched onto it like a man at sea clinging to the debris of his wrecked ship. Assuming he could trust their words and judgement, it really did seem like he wasn’t in England anymore: more than that, it seemed he wasn’t even on Earth anymore. He’d never heard of a ‘Digital World’, for one, even from his neighbours. His friends had mentioned similar things, but not in the same kind of possibly-senile, possibly-deluded context as the old couple next door. Those two hardly seemed as out of it as they had before, now that Dante was face-to-face with the exact same kind of situation they’d described countless times to him and his sister during their visits. On the other hand, he decided to push his friends and their own ramblings from his mind. After all, whatever bizarre situation he was in, he doubted it was that he’d been sent to and trapped inside an online game.

The thought was possibly more chilling than anything else his terrified imagination could come up with.

Nonetheless, he had to think conductively. And thankfully, the brother gave him some small reason to do so as he mentioned the villages. So there was somewhere that they could go. It was a start, even if it didn’t completely help them.

The phrase ‘Digimon’, however, almost stopped his thoughts dead in their tracks. It explained the ‘partners’ that he’d been so curious about, but from that answer came another question. What was a Digimon? None of the possibilities that came to mind were particularly illuminating or appealing ones. One or two of them were even unpleasantly close to the same kind of eighth-grader nonsense from his friends that he’d tried to push from his mind.

It wasn’t all that got pushed from his mind, however, as the thundering sound of something cracking split the air and broke his train of thought. More than that, however, it seemed to finally break the nerves of the two blobs; and the moment he pulled himself back from wondering what in any world could have made such a horrible noise, he caught their last words to the group.

“Wait!” But no sooner had he opened his mouth had he realized it was hopeless. The two creatures seemed even more spooked of whatever had made the noise than him, and had absolutely no intention of stopping to further help them as they charged off into the forest with their winnings.

"Come on, let's go before they get away!" And as his mind turned back to the other humans present, it seemed it wasn’t just those two that had no intention of staying. Before Dante or anyone else could get a word in, the boy who’d charged the creatures before took off after them with reckless abandon.

“Hold on!” This time, Dante didn’t bother to address the other boy: by the time he was able to compose his thoughts enough to talk again, he was far gone from his sight. Instead, he looked back and forth between the two girls who were still in the clearing. The other boy had been dead-set on taking his watch back, but what about these two? There were so many questions: but they remained unsaid as he asked the most basic one of all. “What the hell are we going to do?”

Digimon: The Convergence of the Human and Digital Worlds

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