The streets shook with rumbles of the collision, as Aardmon poked her head out, squeaked, and pulled her head back in again as a bundle of debris fell down on the street outside.

“Oh dear...oh dear...”

Ursula leaned to one side, trying to get a good glimpse of the sky above, while Lorelie tapped furiously away at her PDA, her head darting left and right as families of Digimon stampeded all around them.

In a matter of seconds the three of them were left on their own, with only the distant rumblings and nasty crunching sounds for company. Ursula felt a tug on her jacket, and practically had Lorelie’s keypad shoved in her face.

“What just happened!?!?! 0_0”

“It’s, uh...not good.”

More frantic typing.

“How?”

Ursula bit her lip. “Try to imagine a jam sandwich, only it’s not a sandwich, but two cities, and we’re in the middle, and we will be the jam soon if we stay here.”

Lorelie didn’t really have an immediate response to that, so Ursula turned to Aardmon. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

The aardvark blinked. “But...the others? What about them? They’re still out there.”

“Screw them. It’s their fault.”

“Ursula!”

“Come. We’re going.”

There was another tug at her jacket, and Lorelie pulled herself to her knees, wobbling slightly as she pointed at the screen.

“We aren’t letting them get squished. >n<”

“We can’t find them in this condition.”

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t see properly.”

“And you can’t walk properly.”

Beat.

“Nvm.”

Ursula sighed. “When I said screw them I didn’t mean screw them. But they can actually move. Sort of.” She nudged her hip, and the metal jutting out of it. “We need a headstart otherwise we’ll be the ones getting squished. They have a better chance of catching us up if there’s actually someone for them to catch up to.” She opened her palms, looking incredulously at Aardmon. “Right?”

Aardmon folded her arms. “You have a point.”

“It happens sometimes.” The girl reached out a hand towards Lorelie, snapping her fingers. “Would you like a hand up?”

Lorelie pocketed her keypad and grasped Ursula’s wrist, hauling herself to her feet. She swayed slightly, and grasped Ursula’s arm with both of her hands, trying to balance herself. Had Lorelie been able to see clearly, she might have noticed a tinge of red on the taller girl’s cheeks.

Ursula sniffed, took a step, wobbled quite drastically herself, and glared at Aardmon.

“You can give us a hand too.”

“I, uh...oh...yeah...of course.”

Eventually they managed to get moving, hauling themselves down the street like participants in the weirdest three-legged race you’ve ever seen. All the while the sky grew darker as the disc above inched closer, the crackling sounds behind growing slightly louder and more ominous with every minute. Aardmon turned her head, staring into the valley of the horizon. “I hope the others make it back without a problem.”

“Not happening.”

Aardmon glanced at Lorelie for reassurance, but she was shaking her head as well. Ursula powered on, rolling her eyes. “They’re already in trouble.”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“Perhaps you could call it a gut feeling.”

Aardmon huffed, blowing her hair away from her eyes and marching onwards.

“Honestly, you humans are all so pessimistic. How can they be in more trouble than we are?”

Being far closer to the point of impact, the tremors hit the scrappers and the other three children immediately, and they went down like a stack of bowling pins. They sat there, gawping, as metal began to fold in on metal above them, and a few districts away – fairly far, but not far enough to be considered comfortable – the edges of the city were pressing in on each other, like sliding a letter into an envelope.

Callum pulled himself to his feet, and looked down at Empermon beside him, who was staring in horrified awe. “I take it this doesn’t happen often here?”

“It’s your fault!”

Callum turned, and saw the Vilemon pointing at them, pointing his finger among them furiously. “Whu...?”

“It’s your fault! It’s your fault! Every time some shit goes wrong like this it’s always your fault, you stupid humans!”

Empermon raised a finger. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Callum whirled around, holding his hands out. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m just saying, statistically, this only happens when you people show up.”

Eleanor sat up, resting her arm on her knee. “I’m feeling so loved right now.”

“Nightmare Shocker!”

A furious scream shot past the girl’s head, and she nearly fell flat, flailing frantically. “Geezus! What the hell was that?”

Empermon stepped forwards, brandishing his instrument. “Come on, guys. Stop it; this ain’t the time.”

Vilemon turned back to the other scrappers, who were glancing at each other with unconvinced looks on their faces. The imp cackled. “It’s their fault! It’s always their fault; don’t pretend like you don’t know what these guys get up to! They’re nothing but evil troublemakers, every single one of them!”

One of the Liolmon raised a paw. “You know...the last time we had humans here they did save the world from a global war or something...”

“Seriously?”

Vilemon rubbed between his eyes, then decided to change tack. “You know, those metal things they have on them are obviously mystical tech or some shit; maybe they’re the key to fixing this whole business. I knew we were chasing them for a reason.”

As logic goes, it was about as sound as a sledgehammer made of cheese, but it seemed to do the trick. Mystical tech that could control the Digital World? Now that got the scrappers’ attention, so much so that most of them didn’t think to question why the little shit Vilemon was now the one giving the orders.

(Impmon had been abandoned a few alleyways back, still unconscious after his thwack to the head.)

“Nightmare Shocker!”

“Goblin Strike!”

“William’s Arrow!”

The scrappers advanced on the children, throwing projectiles and generally being rude. Empermon threw a blast of snow and sound at them, but it didn’t do much to slow them. Martin stepped back, waving his hands. “We don’t wanna fight!”

“Speak for yourself!” said Eleanor, stepping forwards and rolling her neck. “Come on then you fucks!”

Callum groaned inwardly. The ominous looming threat of the falling city had been somewhat dampened by the constant annoyance and insults he’d been receiving from a majority of these darned creatures since he’d first landed here.

He briefly consulted his conscience, and his capacity for being the voice of reason as the scrappers began to charge.

He decided to give up with that tactic, and resorted instead to rugby-tackling Tinkermon to the ground as she rushed towards him.

It had been a trying day, and frankly, he could use the catharsis, conscience be damned.

I’d like to tell you that the tamers’ first fight was a valiant battle for the fate of the Digital World, but I’d be lying. It was rough, clumsy, rather petty and really quite underwhelming for all parties involved, to the point where Martin (who was hanging back and occasionally spouting the ever-helpful line of “guys...”) noticed three of the scrappers splitting off mid-fight and scarpering off down the street, away from the oncoming collision between the cities. Which was still approaching faster than anybody might have liked.

That still left four, however, and they were going at it wildly, despite none of them being particularly adept at fighting. Not to say that the tamers and Empermon were doing badly...although they were, but they were at least doing badly with an awful lot of vigour. Eleanor largely stood in the same place, waving her fists around and swiping at people’s faces, whereas Callum’s strategy consisted of throwing himself on top of people and kicking shins. Only Empermon was really doing anything useful, but there’s only so much you can do when it comes to blowing snow in people’s faces and whacking them on the head with a blunt instrument.

(Badum-tsh)

The battle would have gone on a lot longer – and the tamers may well have died an embarrassing, undignified death at the grubby mitts of a group of metal-stealing jerks – had the city not decided it was going to compound its ongoing collision by suddenly, and unexpectedly, tilting upwards.

“Holy crap!”

The warring parties fell to the ground simultaneously as the ground rippled all around them, holes opening up in the warping infrastructure. Martin yelped as one such hole opened far too close for comfort, and he got to his knees, taking charge of the situation. “We need to get out of here now!”

“You ain’t going nowhere!” Vilemon marched forwards, claws bared and fangs twitching. “You’re gonna be sorry you messed with-“

He didn’t finish. A conveniently-timed hole opened up beneath him, and he vanished into the void below before he could spout his big mouth off any more, with nary even a yelp in his final moments. The hole closed up again, and a small puff of blue data spurted out the top.

Callum made a face. “Ew...”

The scrappers looked amongst themselves. With a clang, Nohemon and the remaining Goblimon threw their gauntlets and armaments to the ground.

“You know what? This isn’t worth it.”

“Guys!”

Tinkermon stumbled after them as her comrades ran off away from the inevitable doom, still wielding the vast (and now empty) bazooka over one shoulder. “Cowards! We’ve got them pinned down; we can do this!”

She paused, and turned back to see Empermon and the children running in the opposite direction.

Then she turned again.

“Oh come on!”

It’s hard to say whether it’s at all possible for a city to sneak up on somebody, but nonetheless, that’s what happened. In the time it had taken Tinkermon to get her bearings, start running in the wrong direction, start running again in the right direction, remember she could fly, and then realise she couldn’t fly due to the whacking great bazooka over one shoulder, the falling city had done a remarkable job of catching up with her. She stumbled, scrambling over the rough cobbles, but the ground behind her was looming like a mangle, ready to grab her foot at any moment and pull her inside into a very sticky end.

“No! This is my chance for greatness; I can’t lose now!”

In one last ditch attempt, she unholstered the bazooka and threw it with all her might directly into the oncoming press.

The ground shifted. Glitched. Bursts of light flashed all around as Tinkermon’s tiny form was consumed by the city...

...which promptly ground to a halt. Buildings stopped mid-crush. The terrible rolling sound stopped, and the two cities hung there, well and truly locked together, and spinning gently in mid-air.

The fairy opened one eye, and stared around. She didn’t feel dead. Not that she was entirely sure what that would feel like. The bazooka was gone; torn to pieces alongside her. Her foot was wedged in between two rolled pieces of rock, and with a sharp movement, she pulled it out.

“Did...I do that?”

“No, I did.”

Tinkermon whirled around, fists raised, and found herself face to face with...her own face. Tinkermon stared back at Tinkermon; perfectly identical, right down to the pissed-off expression.

“You’re me.”

“And...you’re me.”

“And you’re both me as well.”

Both Tinkermons looked to one side, and saw their clones there as well. And then again. And again. The edge of the cities glittered as two physical entities took up the same space, momentarily and yet hanging in the air. And as two cities became one, so one being became two, to compensate. And two became four. Four became eight. And so on. And so on.

It was the kind of freak anomaly that would have made Yggdrasil crawl back underground and weep for ten thousand millennia, but then again, the Digital World was having a really bad week.

The many Tinkermons might have contemplated the magnitude of their current predicament, but their reasoning skills had never been that high level. Though not to say they were non-existent, since the several dozen fairies all sat down at once, and began to think in unison.

· One; she was the only scrapper left.

· Two; there were now over a hundred of her.

· Three; through the combination of one and two, she was now by default the head of the scrappers and could choose what to do.

· Four; that annoying freckled blonde kid had punched her in the face.

· Five; referring back to point two, she now outnumbered him and could finish the job she’d wanted to since the start

Any numbers above five were starting to wear thin on her patience, as the lust for wanton destruction entered all her heads at once. She realised she didn’t care really why or how she now inhabited one-hundred and twenty–eight different bodies; not when there were children out there with shiny metal stuff ready for stealing and at least three separate faces to punch repeatedly. She grinned, and all her wings began to flutter.

“Come on, scrappers! Let’s get’em!”

The three kids and the penguin ran through the streets as they began to tilt upwards, the going getting harder and harder. One by one they realised that carrying on was going to be impractical; already they were beginning to slip against the incline, and Martin was threatening to roll backwards at any moment.

In a quick move, Empermon pushed open the nearest door he could find and yanked the others through with such ferocity that they all fell backwards into the lower corner, piling up one by one with grunts and swearing.

Then, suddenly, the city came to a jarring halt, and the incline eased off slightly. For a moment the four hapless beings sat there, all in a tangle. It was Eleanor who decided to speak up first, in her usual delicate manner.

“Gerroff me you fucks!”

The three kids pushed themselves apart, and tried their best to right themselves. Eleanor was beside herself; if she’d had a temperamental disposition before, it had been even worse after a street-fight, followed by getting Callum’s shoe in her head.

“Nice plan, genius! Rugby-tackling; when the fuck has that ever failed to solve anything?”

Callum glared over at her. “Not in the mood, Eleanor! Not now!”

“In the mood for what?”

“For this. You know. For you. What you always do; flip off the handle and then start biting everyone’s heads off. I didn’t see you backing down anytime soon.”

Martin leant against a group of collapsed shelves. “Do we really have to do this?”

“Shut up!”

The Vietnamese boy raised both palms and just looked away as the other two spatted even more amongst themselves.

“We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t run off on your own!”

“And you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t run off after me, so don’t go pulling that shit!”

“We have a mission you know!” Callum placed his hand on his hip, staring out a broken window. “Though who knows Lorelie and Ursula have ended up now.”

“Well gee, maybe you’d know if you’d kept your arse with them rather than playing the hero.”

“I was worried about you. God knows why.”

“Get fucked.”

“You get fucked.” Callum turned away, trying to flip the girl off behind him, but he chose the wrong arm again and just sent the device careening wildly to one side, pulling him with it. “Ow!”

Eleanor smirked, but she turned away before he saw. “You are such a moron.”

“I’ve HAD IT WITH THIS THING!” Callum snapped, flinging his arm sideways and crashing it against a wall. “What is the point? What the bloody hell is it; a digivice? Everyone else gets cute little handheld pocket machines and I get stuck with a bloody wedge of metal that does absolutely fuck all? Whose idea was it to come here anyway?”

Martin and Eleanor looked at one another. The girl shrugged. “Yours, mainly.”

“Oh, piss off.”

“No, it was all our faults.” Martin wandered backwards, tapping the screen of his own nightmare in metal that surrounded his chest. “We all decided to come. Apparently we had a mission or something important we had to do, but that seems to have gone out the window from the beginning. We can’t even move around the city properly let alone travel halfway across the world.”

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were supposed to be the optimistic one.”

“I’m always optimistic. Consequently, I’m frequently disappointed.” Martin shrugged, the device on his chest bobbing up and down. “Hey, at least we’re not dead yet.”

“I’m so reassured.”

Callum sighed, and leaned against the nearest wall, knocking a few bits and pieces off what remained of the shelves. He glanced sideways, and saw Empermon polishing the end of his saxophone, and trying to give the impression that he didn’t want to be a part of the conversation. Callum didn’t pay any heed, and nudged him.

“You must be really confused right now.”

“What do you mean ‘right now’? I’ve been confused for the past several days. Humans are nothing new.” He squinted. “Though you do shout an awful lot more than I’ve heard.”

“That’s just her.”

Eleanor glared at him, but said nothing, feeling worn out from said shouting. Still, Callum was curious. “What have you heard about us? Have you seen humans before?”

“Not personally. But it’s hard to ignore what you’ve supposedly done; I’ve heard that you’re both great warriors and great warlords. Saviours and destroyers. Some people are gonna hate you, and some people just wanna take your stuff.”

“That’s nice of them.”

“It’s the way it goes.” Empermon sighed, and slung his instrument over his back. “Well, it was nice to see you, anyway.”

“Wait...you’re going?”

The penguin shrugged. “I wish you the best. But sorry, your business ain’t for me.” He ran his finger beneath his hat, and winked, “The world keeps turning. Everything’ll sort itself out somehow. Humans or no humans.”

He went towards the lopsided door, but Callum called out, “What about the scrappers? Or the city? Don’t you want to save them?”

“How?” Empermon turned, looking incredulously at the boy. “You? You were just yelling about how that thing in your arm doesn’t do anything. By the sound of it all this power your people supposedly have has gone AWOL.”

“Well it’s not my fault.”

“And it’s not my problem.”

“Wait...”

Callum’s shoulders slumped, and he looked forlornly at the bird. “Can’t you just...stay? Please? We just need some time.”

The penguin took a step towards the door, but something held him back. He glanced left and right, at Eleanor, who still had her arms folded, quietly seething, and at Martin, who had his fingers against his temples, knocking gently.

“You people really do need help.”

There was a shuffling as Empermon sat back down, and picked at the keys on his saxophone again. “There isn’t much I can do. I mean...I could play something, I guess. Might pass the time.”

Eleanor let off a huff. “If I hear one bar of Moldovan Euro-pop I swear that thing is going out the window.”

“I have no idea what that is. But whatever it is, it’s probably not my style anyway.”

Empermon raised the reed to his beak, and began to play.

The three hadn’t been the only ones to have felt the collision; the ripples had propagated through the streets, sending even the most hardened of citizens into a frenzy, followed by a sudden need to jettison themselves from the current situation. Digimon leapt from the edges of the city like rats from a ship, deciding to take their chances with whatever lay in the shifting biomes below rather than getting squashed where they lay.

Unfortunately, when one of you can’t really walk and the other can barely see, that becomes less of an option. Ursula and Lorelie had not much choice but to press on, trying to scope out their missing comrades. Ursula was taking the abandonment very well.

“Traitorous arseholes.”

Comparatively well.

There was a scuttling in front of the two as Aardmon pulled herself out of an alleyway, muttering under her breath, “I’m sure they’re around here somewhere...they must be...I can’t have lost them already...”

Lorelie looked forwards for a little while, her screen displaying no comment as she watched the aardvark’s fidgeting. Presently she tapped a few words on her keypad, and held it up slightly too close to Ursula’s face.

“Is she ok? :/”

Ursula’s gaze followed the aardvark as she scarpered over to the other side of the street, looking through a pair of shattered windows.

“Not really.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Like...not in any sense. She is not okay. Nothing about her is okay.”

“...”

They waited for Aardmon to come back, which she did, although she was pacing maniacally, her feet continually moving.

“This is all a very bad thing...”

Ursula raised a hand. “I have a question.”

“Uh...yes? Of course. How can I help?”

“When are you actually going to start doing something useful?”

Aardmon blinked, looked down at her feet, then up at Lorelie, who seemed to be covering her screen with her hands as she failed to stop herself displaying a distinct ‘¬_¬‘. Ursula flipped her palms up. “What? It’s a fair question.”

“I’m trying, alright!” Aardmon flapped wildly, her arms going multiple directions at once. “I’m trying my hardest to find the half of your little team that’s buggered off on their own. Get off my case!”

“I haven’t been on your case.”

“You have! You’ve been judging me since I first met you; I know that look.”

Ursula pointed at herself. “This is my normal face. I give it to everyone.”

Tap tap tap.

“This isn’t helping.”

The aardvark groaned. “And you are?”

Ursula felt the other girl’s shoulders flinch, and shot Aardmon a look. The Digimon thought about retorting, but decided against it, forcing herself to calm down. There was some more tapping, and Lorelie held up her pad, a little more slowly this time.

“Please tell me they’re alive.”

“I...”

Aardmon swallowed, and looked up at Ursula once again. The ginger-haired girl wasn’t paying attention, her focus on Lorelie.

“I...don’t...”

“They are fine.”

Ursula patted Lorelie gently on the arm, the corner of her mouth tilting up a little. “They’re all arseholes. Arseholes are always fine.”

Lorelie raised her head slowly, but her attention was suddenly caught by Aardmon getting into a tizzy again. “Look, she’s right! See? There they are now; I can see them.”

Tap tap. “I can’t. Where are they?”

“Just over there, next to the plaza.”

Ursula squinted, and put a hand over her eyes. “Are you sure that’s them?”

Lorelie stepped forwards, her head device tilting slightly to one side as she typed away.

“That’s not them. Those things are shorter. Thinner.”

“More attractive.”

“More ”

Lorelie paused mid-type, and turned sideways. Ursula just shrugged. “Am I wrong?”

Aardmon’s excitement had faded somewhat, as she stepped backwards and clutched Ursula’s free hand, much to her annoyance. “Those are Digimon. Tinkermon. But you don’t usually see them at all, let alone three at once.”

“There’s two more over there.” Ursula pointed, looking in all directions. “And there, and there, and...”

“Oh sweet! More humans”

The three watched, horrified, as one of the Tinkermon clapped her hands frantically, jumping up and down and fluttering her wings. With varying stages of delay, the clones all did the same, generating a high-pitched hum that seemed to echo all around as the throng of tiny adorable fairies shuffled closer, each member nearly exactly mimicking the moves of its neighbours. There was a pop, and one of the clones faded out of existence in a rush of pixels, only to be replaced by three more, still grinning maniacally.

Ursula felt Lorelie nudge her shoulder, and glanced down at the girl’s keypad. “I can see them. I don’t think they’re friendly.”

Ursula crouched slightly, and whispered in her ears, keeping an eye on the gaggle of sprites. “You can see what they are?”

“There are words. Running past my eyes. Probably the helmet.”

“Anything helpful?”

“Rookie. Fairy. Virus. Doesn’t like height jokes.”

“So...no then.”

“Give me the metal!”

Tinkermon thrust out her hands in unison, pointing at the two girls and snapping them both back to attention once again. Aardmon grinned, and held up her hands in a vain effort to pacify the situation.

“I’m sorry, ladies, but this metal isn’t up for grabs. We kind of need it.”

Ursula harrumphed. “Speak for yourself. If they want it they can take it, useless thing.”

Aardmon’s grin turned more than a little strained. “Don’t tempt them; they probably won’t be very gentle.” She forced a laugh, and thrust some hands over towards one of the less dilapidated buildings. “Look, lovely metal over there! Nice metal!”

Tinkermon shook her heads slowly and wickedly. “I want the shiny stuff! I want the digivice!”

Aardmon whirled round, panic in her eyes as she looked up at the girls. “Are we running?”

“Yes.”

“Are we capable of running?”

“No.”

“Okay. This is fine. Everything is fine. AACK!”

Aardmon nearly jumped out of her skin and threw her hand to the sky, her eyes wide in fear. “CITY!”

That caught the fairies’ attentions, as every single clone looked to the heavens, just for a brief moment. Aardmon grabbed Lorelie, and Lorelie grabbed Ursula, and in a bizarre conga they all barrelled forward into the nearest gap in the throng.

“Sand Lancer!”

The girls watched in wonder as a spiral of sand formed in Aardmon’s free claw, and she swung it wide, striking a bunch of the clones in the face.

It wasn’t particularly sharp, nor did it really seem to hurt them, but the thing about sand is that it gets everywhere. Eyes, ears, mouth, nose; the lot. And as one Tinkermon clone got a faceful of sand, they all of them felt it.

“BLARGH!”

As Aardmon, Ursula and Lorelie rushed in tandem down the nearly empty streets, a chorus of tiny, infuriated voices rose up behind them, coughing and spluttering, and soon accompanied by the terrible hum of a hundred wingbeats as the fairy clones took to the sky in a vast battalion, which would have been quite glorious to watch at any other time.

Not that any of the three on the ground were paying attention.

“RUUUN!”

The three hobbled, unevenly yet surprisingly quickly through the streets, with Aardmon doing most of the pulling as they ducked and weaved amongst the abandoned rubble. Lorelie held tightly onto Aardmon’s hand and Ursula onto Lorelie’s. The taller girl was feeling the burning in her legs as she ran awkwardly, the device on her back a massive burden.

But none of them dared look back, even as the droning hum grew ever closer. They knew that the fairies were catching up with them.

Soon the blows began; lightning fast jabs rushing past them, tearing the fabric of their clothes, and even their skin. And it soon became clear that the fairy clones had no need to hurry this.

“Speed Nightmare!”

“Ah!”

Aardmon ground her teeth as a tiny lance shot past her, striking her shoulder and drawing a tiny amount of blood. She yanked the other two sideways into an impossibly thin alleyway, losing their current pursuers, but the drone carried on as the swarm began to disperse. Aardmon rubbed her shoulder, the fur only slightly flecked with red.

Ursula was rubbing a similar wound on her face, popping her lips and frowning. “I can’t feel my cheek.”

“It’s poison. Paralytic.”

“Great.”

“Oh don’t worry, it won’t kill you. Or...at least a single one won’t.”

The girl leaned back against a wall, rolling her ankles and breathing heavily. “We can’t do this. It’s not going to work.”

Aardmon clenched her fists. “We have to...I need to keep you safe...”

“Well done with that!” Ursula groaned, and banged the back of her head against the wall. “We’re going to die. We’re all going to get stabbed with tiny sleep needles and they’re going to take us apart piece by piece and-“

Szzkt

There was a sudden noise from Lorelie, and she raised a finger skywards, tilting her head just slightly. Ursula opened her mouth to speak but Lorelie placed the finger to where her lips should have been. She shook her head, her screen showing three musical notes bobbing up and down.”

“Music?”

The taller girl glanced up and around, putting a hand to her ear.

“Jazz music?”

“I hear it too.” Aardmon looked behind her, further down the alleyway where the melancholic tones were coming from. “Must be somebody who hasn’t evacuated yet...but maybe...maybe they could help us.”

BZZZKTTT

This noise was far harsher as Lorelie went flailing back, one of the Tinkermon sprites flapping all up in her face and grinning maniacally as she waved her red lance.

“Shiny!”

“Get off her!”

The Tinkermon let out a yelp as Ursula grabbed it by the hair, swivelled round on one heel and slammed it, face first, into the wall behind her.

“I don’t believe in fairies!”

The Tinkermon twitched, and promptly vanished in a puff of data, causing a reactionary yowling from all the remaining fairies around them.

Ursula shook her hand, bits of stray data cascading off like glitter. She turned to the others, who merely stared at her. Lorelie held down a key on her pad.

“???”

“Well, I thought it was worth a try.”

“I don’t think it worked.” Aardmon bit her lip, and looked up at the sliver of sky, which was suddenly darkening with lots of miniscule figures. “They know where we are now. Leg it!”

The three ran as the fairies descended, a lot of them looking decidedly pissed at having been battered around so much, but even more of them smiling with a mad bloodlust quite unbecoming of their appearance.

They pursued the trio through the alleyways, catching up ever so slowly. Then the alley ended, and the two girls and the aardvark found themselves out on the open road again.

“Speed Nightmare!”

“Lights!”

Ursula pointed, but Aardmon didn’t even stop to verify; she cannonballed forwards as hundreds of tiny spears struck the cobbles behind them. She veered sideways as a couple of fairies attempted to cut them off, and threw another batch of sand forwards in a last ditch attempt. As they reeled back, she made a straight beeline towards the illuminated door.

“Please be open!”

It was. Callum, Martin, Eleanor and a rather put-off Empermon watched as the three runaways tumbled into the hut in a spray of sand, coughing and spluttering as they did so. Eleanor was on her feet in an instant. “Where the hell have you been?”

Aardmon poked her head out from the dogpile. “Door! Fairy! Clones! Army! Shut! Now!”

“What the...GEEZ FUCK!”

“Nightmare Pandemic!”

Eleanor had never moved so quickly; she sprinted across the room and slammed the door just in time to stop a volley of red spears from impaling them all where they stood. There was a clattering, and a few red pinpricks made their way through the beams, only to slide out once again. The giggling turned to cackling, and suddenly a bunch of the clones were rapping at the opposite window, pulling silly faces and taunting and insulting the people inside.

“All the shiny people in one spot? Nice...”

“Get out here, you cowards!”

“You! Punchy McTurd! I’m coming for you!”

The three at the window pointed at Callum, and simultaneously pulled their fingers across their necks. Callum looked at Martin. “Punchy?”

“Well you definitely punched one. I saw that much.” Martin’s gaze turned upwards as there came the sound of clattering footsteps on the roof. “This is a bit overkill though, isn’t it?”

Lorelie stood up, tapping one-handedly as she brushed the sand off her body with the other.

“You know these lovely children?”

“I know...one.” Callum grimaced. “I didn’t count on her having extended family.”

There was the sound of splintering wood, and Ursula yelped as a volley of tiny spears rushed through the cracks in the wall, twisting and opening things out even more. She stepped away, watching as hundreds of tiny little eyes jostled for space behind the solid wood. A murmur of little laughter went up around the building, soon replaced by the sound of yet more scrabbling. The light in the centre of the room swayed, and flickered, as the windows and roof were slowly smothered by adorable little gremlins.

Eleanor swallowed. “Suddenly I think I have a newfound respect for primary school teachers.”

“That’s all well and good, but what are we supposed to do now?” Martin thrust his hands open. “There’s no way out.”

Callum scratched his cheek. “Maybe we could run through them really quickly?”

Nobody answered. Nobody felt the need. Callum’s shoulders sagged. “Ah damnit.”

The scrabbling increased in tempo, and there was the worrying sound of something snapping in an upstairs room. Lorelie held her hands up to her chest and shuffled closer to Ursula, her screen showing several different faces at once, none of which spelt good news. In fact all of the children were keeping quiet, unable to do anything but listen to the killer fairies drawing ever closer.

It was Empermon who broke the silence, as he poked Aardmon in the shoulder. “I...guess these guys are yours? You taking them on a big save-the-world mission?”

Aardmon gave a desperate laugh. “That was the idea, yes. Before the point where we got mercilessly torn apart by –“ She frowned, and turned back to the penguin, who was scratching the tip of his beak.

“Who are you, anyway? Why are you with them?”

“Just an accident. I bumped into them. Pulled them to safety.” He glanced upwards, and pulled a face. “Sort of.”

No answer. The penguin looked down again to see Aardmon still staring at him. He rolled his claws nervously. “What are you giving me that look for?”

Aardmon raised a claw, but it was Lorelie who started first, fumbling with her keypad and typing frantically. “Aardmon, you are SURE we have partners somewhere...?”

Aardmon bit her lip. “I, uh...yes, but I said I don’t know where they are, or, who, or...”

Empermon leaned forwards, trying to get a glimpse of the screen. “What are you talking about?”

Ursula and Eleanor looked at one another. The taller girl gritted her teeth. “We don’t have many options...”

Eleanor folded her arms. “I still say we go with Aardmon. She needs to answer for something.”

Aardmon squeaked. “I can’t fight.”

“Oh.”

Empermon let out a squawk as he realised the room’s attention was slowly turning towards him. He grabbed his instrument and flung it over his back, pushing his way forwards.

“Nope. Nope nope nope, I’m not doing it, very sorry but I’m not getting involved any more, thank you very much-“

He reached out for the door, noticed several sharp red spikes sticking out of it, and promptly turned on his flippers, only to find everybody standing in front of him.

“I said no!”

Aardmon fell to her knees, clasping her hands. “We’re all gonna die if you don’t!”

“I am not partnering with a bloody human!” Empermon pointed at each of the group in turn. “Do you know how much of a mess they make of things? I never volunteered for anything like this; do you even realise what you’re asking of me?”

“I know, and I swear if there were any other option-“

“I’m not doing it!” Empermon seemed desperate now, his usual cool attitude replaced with utter horror. “I’m not joining your ridiculous quest!”

“Hey arsehole, if you don’t, you’re gonna die as well!” yelled Eleanor, knocking at her own head.

“There’s gotta be something else you can do; you’re humans for crap’s sake! You perform miracles all the time!”

“Really? Cause I thought we only made a mess of things.”

“That’s not what I meant! I’m no good to you; there’s nothing I can do for you!”

Callum pushed his way forwards, falling to one knee. “Then why did you help us in the first place?”

A frenzied scrabbling from up above made everybody jump, but Empermon was having none of it; he shook his head and backed away from the boy. “No, god no, you can’t pin this on me like that. I helped you; I don’t owe anything else to you, least of all giving up my life to you.”

Callum clenched his fists. “You think I don’t know how shitty this sounds...?”

“I barely even know you? You expect me to risk my life because you’ve decided to go on a quest? To fix something that’s happened to you? You can’t just depend on me like that; I’m only one Digimon.”

The penguin clutched his saxophone close to his chest, in a defensive manner. “You’re trying to grab onto me to save you? To help you save the world? As if I’d have any clue where to start?”

“Well how do you think WE feel?”

Callum’s voice echoed around the house with an immense ferocity, silencing everyone in their tracks. Even the Tinkermon seemed to stop. Briefly. Within moments they were scrabbling and scratching at the walls again, with sounds that were worryingly increasing in volume.

Empermon was silenced though. He stared at the boy in front of him, wide-eyed. Callum lowered his head, properly falling to his knees.

“We’re lost. We’re nearly helpless. We’re supposed to help your world but we don’t know where to begin, and without...someone...we really are just gonna die here.”

The boy glanced up, his eyes staring directly into Empermon’s. “I don’t want to drag you into this. And god, I will do everything I can. But we need your help, and you’re the only one around who can. So please...”

Callum closed his eyes, the lights on his metallic arm flashing wildly.

“I’m begging you here.”

Empermon stared at the boy, his beak opening and closing but no response coming out. There was the sound of splintering wood, and a maniacal cackling filled the room. Ursula glanced up.

“They’re inside.”

It happened in seconds, but they felt like hours. Empermon ducked for cover. Lorelie and Martin pulled back, close to the centre of the room. Ursula tensed, clenching her fists. Eleanor took a step forwards. Callum, closest to the trapdoor, looked up, as a murmur of thousands of tiny wings grew louder, and louder.

The door burst open, and the nightmare horde descended straight downwards.

“Get back!”

Ursula pushed the others back, save for Eleanor and Aardmon, who rushed forwards as best they could. Callum swung his arm with all his might, catching three of the swarm and making them disintegrate, but there were too many clones and he was pushed back onto the floor, tiny spears lashing out all around him.

“Sand Lancer!”

“Get off him, you leotard-wearing fucks!”

Callum could hear the others fighting back the steadily increasing swarm, and, in the midst of the chaos all around him, found himself wondering whether anybody else in this world would ever even know they were there. He could feel a dull pain on his arm, where the fairies were yanking and stabbing at it, trying to take the device for themselves.

“Well...saving the world was a nice thought, I guess.”

“Sing Sing Squall!”

An icy blast rushed over Callum’s body and he jolted awake as the fairies left him, several of them frozen in their tracks. They fell apart as more of the clones rushed forwards, but now there was something standing between them and the boy. Empermon held his arms wide, his saxophone glowing silver as he swiped at the torrent of tiny terrors. The penguin glanced back at Callum, looking decidedly unsure of what he was doing.

“So you do have a plan, right?”

“Uh...”

“Come on, dude, I’m heroically saving your lives here. Again. Don’t screw me over on this.”

“Watch out!”

Three Tinkermon clones leapt at once, their spears held over their heads as they hollered like animals. Empermon’s eyes snapped upwards, and he saw his own face reflected in their crimson points as they aimed downwards towards his eyes.

Callum raised his arm.

And, with a click, and a rush of cold, and a horrendous scraping sound, his arm opened up.

A bright blue light flooded the room, half-blinding everybody present. There was a crash as a bunch of the tamers fell back against the wall in an undignified heap, their vision still clouded with blue and their ears still ringing. Thankfully, the Tinkermon clones seemed to have been affected just as much, as they fluttered around, crashed into things (and each other) and swore repeatedly. Still, some of them were beginning to blink back to reality, and were even angrier than before. Plus yet more were waiting outside, still scrabbling and trying to squeeze through the opening in the roof.

Aardmon shivered, and held her head, feeling a distinct swelling. “What the ever-loving...”

“I can move!”

The aardvark turned to Eleanor, who was standing, twisting her metallised leg, with an expression of furious joy on her face. “It’s...light. I can move it. I can feel something.”

Martin and Ursula nodded, standing themselves. Indeed, the devices around their bodies seemed to be glowing, the metal shifting ever so slightly as patterns played on their skin. Lorelie was typing furiously, and thrust her keypad into Aardmon’s face.

“I can see properly. What’s going on? 0.0”

They all turned, and looked directly at Callum, who still lay on the ground, holding his left arm out into the air.

The device had opened up, revealing wires and pipes and joints like some kind of hideous, yet strangely admirable, blooming flower. Much like the other devices, it seemed to be light as a feather, yet an immense energy was dissipating from within, sending little specks of blue data fluttering around like snow. A stream of light was emanating from the screen where the palm had been, which twisted through the air like a river, before engulfing the first thing in its path.

Empermon.

Callum watched in awe, and held his shoulder as the device opened even more, moving jerkily but pumping bolts of energy through his body. The penguin was hovering before him, frozen in an orb of blue light. His eyes were white, and his form seemed to shimmer.

“Empermon...Psyche Synchronise!”

The arm shifted again. Callum could feel his muscles twisting as the joints within his arm shifted around like a puzzle, each movement exacerbating the light more and more. He was dimly aware of the Tinkermon all around him, starting to gather their bearings, moving in on him again. But oddly enough, he didn’t feel the threat. His entire focus was on the penguin before him.

“Evolution Activate!”

There was a pulse of blue down the arm, and the orb surrounding Empermon expanded, revealing itself to be etched with circuitry and symbols. They peeled away, embracing and piercing the penguin’s body like tiny factory arms, scraping away layers of feathers and skin and pulling at the very mainframe within. The penguin jolted, contorting his body more with each moment and growing in uneven jerks, the silhouette becoming more humanoid. Eventually he filled the orb entirely, with only the lights of his eyes intense against the shimmering blue.

The orb shattered, lights falling against the floor and staining it with glowing blue liquid. Callum felt the energy in his arm fading, followed by the weight returning as the great hunk of metal sealed itself up once again. The mutters of annoyance behind him seemed to indicate that the others’ brief relief was similarly fading away. Not that he was really paying attention. His digivice clattered to the floor as he stared at the new figure before him, as they shook off the last remnants of blue light.

Empermon’s new form stood tall, a good six and a half feet, with a look that was largely humanoid. He was smartly dressed in turned-up trousers, a pale waistcoat and red tie, but his feet were clearly avian, wide and webbed, and the short black cloak draped over his shoulders seemed to merge with feathers around his neck, and taper off into a simple, sharp tail. His face was largely obscured by a wide-brimmed trilby, with the only indication of his face being a few tufts of blonde feathers that stuck out beneath, and a long, grey beak, from which the bird could be heard to be humming ever so slightly. He held his saxophone in his hands once again, only that had changed too; a traditionally-curved golden instrument with a wide bell and silver keys and etchings.

“Saxophmon!”

The Tinkermon all around started to mutter again, wiggling their spears in unison. For a moment Callum was lost in the wonder of the sight before him, before reality began to settle in.

For all the pomp and circumstance, his saviour had turned from a small penguin with a saxophone into a moderately-sized penguin with a somewhat bigger saxophone and slightly better dress sense.

In the somewhat desperate situation they were in he couldn’t help but feel this was slightly like engaging a bunch of bloodthirsty machine-gun armed mercenaries, and deciding to swap out the ping-pong racket for the cricket bat.

Right on cue, Eleanor seemed to echo his sentiments exactly.

“Ah, fuck me, we’re still dead.”

“Nightmare Pandemic!”

Evidently the Tinkermon weren’t buying it either, as they rushed forwards, lashing out with spears and claws as Saxophmon held up his instrument, beating away as many as he could. He turned his head slightly, and whispered down to Callum.

“Get back.”

His voice was incredibly deep, and quiet, yet oddly commanding. Callum did as he said, joining the others as the penguin threw his arm backwards, knocking away the nearest fairies with a surprising strength. As they reeled back round, he adjusted his hold on the saxophone, his beak curving upwards ever so slightly.

“How about a song, ladies?”

“Midnight Blues!”

He brought the reed to his beak, and blew, sounding a powerful note, which evolved into a beautiful and tragic serenade. He stood still, seemingly out in the open, but with every bar and every chord the air around him seemed to fold and solidify. Callum looked up to see black crystalline sculptures forming out of thin air in front of him, expanding and tessellating and forming a wall. The fairies rushed forwards, stabbing and scratching at it, but it was reforming as fast as they could break it.

And Saxophmon wasn’t done yet. As Tinkermon turned on him, he adjusted his position, and upped the tempo. The fractals formed around him, only they were rougher, more jagged. He turned, and the crystals turned with him, lashing outwards and slicing into the nearest clones, who vanished in a puff of smoke.

“Get him!”

The Tinkermons upped their assault, lunging forwards in a torrent of wings and little swearing mouths, but Saxophmon kept turning and dodging, the fractals around him countering their moves. It was quite stunning for the onlookers, most of whom simply gawped, saying nothing. Aardmon allowed herself a little smile.

“I knew I could make this work.”

CRACK

The aardvark glanced up, and her smile faded. She raised a paw. “Um...”

It was too late. After taking such a beating, the house decided enough was enough and it was time to fall in on itself. The mesmerising display of Saxophmon’s fight suddenly gave way to a barrage of falling rubble and wood, revealing the sky outside...

...a sky now studded with hundreds of tiny fairies, all giggling like little schoolgirls.

This day was getting better and better.

Saxophmon finished a particularly tricky run of notes and wiped out the rest of the clones around him, but on looking upwards, he grimaced. “That’s...gonna be tricky.”

As cool as he felt doing this, it was his first time out, and as such, he could feel his stamina diminishing. And for all his movements, the fractals were still spawning very close to him and to the rest of the group. Keeping away a few angry pixies in a closed space was one thing, but an aerial assault from all sides was a completely different matter.

With a hum of a thousand wings and the chant of five hundred angry toddlers demanding flesh and steel (just a typical day at the nursery), the fairies began to descend. Saxophmon snapped out of his stupor.

“Midnight Blues!”

In the whirl of a jazz chromatic, the fractals burst into life once again, and the wall around the children expanded into a dome, just in time for a large group of fairies to dive-bomb right into it. Those that didn’t pop straight away instantly turned on the penguin himself, who quickly found himself hopping and dancing back faster than he ever thought he’d move that day, playing his saxophone like a maniac as the fractals spun around him.

Helpless inside the dome, the children could only watch as the fairies came at the penguin from all sides. Despite his skill, they could see him beginning to slip up, and as he did so, their temporary cage began to crack and sheets of ice fell away. They didn’t have long.

Lorelie tapped at her keypad and thrust it around in everyone’s faces. “Anyone have a plan? D8”

Eleanor shook her head vigorously. “As far as I understood it, the dapper penguin was our plan.”

Callum leaned back. “He’s doing his best out there!”

Aardmon stood up, thrusting her paws together. “He can do it! You just need to believe!”

Both teenagers turned on her at once. “Shut up!”

Aardmon shrank back. “But...”

“What’s that gonna matter? There’s nothing he can do anyway.”

“He’s doing more than you are.”

Eleanor reached over and grabbed Callum by the collar. “Say that again...”

Martin stood up himself. “Can all of you be quiet for one second? I’m trying to concentrate!”

Eleanor glanced up. “What? On the music? On the hundreds of fairies? You’re only now realising how screwed we are?”

“No, but I’ve realised that they’re all copies.”

He stepped back as another bunch of said copies banged into the dome, cracking it further. Martin turned to the others. “So if we get the original, hopefully they’ll all disappear?”

He looked at Aardmon, who in turn looked at her feet. “Maybe...?”

“Where the hell are we gonna find the original, smartarse?”

Martin allowed himself a smirk, and pushed his glasses up. “Everything’s data, remember? So if they are copies, that means that the world’s running her program hundreds of times one after the other for...some...reason...” He shook his head. “But even an entire Digital World has to have some problems with doing that, no matter how screwed it is.”

Eleanor was about to comment, but closed her mouth instead, and looked again at the hordes above. “Huh...I guess they are all moving in patterns.”

It was true. Now they had the entire sky as a backdrop, the Tinkermon’s movements were clearly swirling and rippling, definitely following an original source.

Callum leaned backwards. “But how does that help us?”

“Lag.”

“What?”

“Delay. A tiny wait between one clone moving and the next one moving.” Martin pointed upwards. “Whichever one’s moving first has to be the original.”

Aardmon blinked. “That’s...kind of brilliant.”

“So now all we need to do is find whichever one’s moving first.” The boy’s smile faded slightly. “I, uh, don’t have very good eyesight.”

Ursula stood up, pressing her hands against the glass dome as she peered upwards. “Let me.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a better idea.” Eleanor rolled up her sleeves as she looked down at Callum. “Tell your penguin to ditch the dome, will you?”

“Isn’t that...?”

“Trust me, I’ve got this.”

Callum sighed, and banged against the side of the fractal cage. A pulse went through his digital arm, catching Saxophmon’s attention. He watched as the boy tapped the ice, and made a gesture with his hands.

“Seriously?”

Saxophmon looked at the fairies around him, sighed, and made his decision. With a descending scale, the icy dome came down, the energy returning to Saxophmon and allowing him to blow away the dozen or so fairies around him. He slowed down, just temporarily, and looked up at the hordes above.

“This is gonna suck.”

“OI, PIXIE-STICKS!”

The giggling stopped as Eleanor’s voice carried up into the air above, and they all looked down towards her. The girl stood, legs apart and hair blowing in the wind, with her digital leg shining for all to see. She gestured downwards.

“FIRST ONE DOWN HERE GETS THE SHINY THING, YOU PRICKS!” She grinned, and flipped the birds at the sky. “WHO’S IT GONNA BE?”

I mean, it wasn’t a sophisticated plan, but when dealing with hundreds of bolshie children, sometimes you’ve got to go with the simple stuff.

It worked. The fairies spun round, all the waves and patterns merging into a single torrent of wings and grinning little mouths as they all dived at speed towards Eleanor. The girl looked backwards at the others, standing just behind her. “Any time now, Ursula!”

“Wait...wait...” The redhead’s eyes scanned the sky, watching the very head of the tsunami as it got closer and closer.

“URSULA!”

“That one!” The girl pointed to the left, at one fairy ever so slightly ahead of the others. Eleanor didn’t wait; she turned on her heels and dived backwards. “GET HER NOW!”

“She’s going too fast! You won’t hit her!”

“Saxophmon!”

“Harmony Frost!”

The penguin raised his saxophone and blew a single, discordant note, which echoed through the streets and blasted through the air, hitting the head of the pack head on. The effect was instant, as the row of leading fairies suddenly found their bodies refusing to move, their wings frozen in place as they plummeted earthwards.

“Oh crap-“

The frozen fairies hit the ground, and several shattered in an instant. But the ones behind, ever so slightly behind, still felt the movements in their muscles. They banked. They veered. Not as one, but all in different directions, avoiding the catastrophic divebombs of the original ones. They pulled away, all ready to regroup and dive again, at the command of the first.

But no command came. They all hung in the air, confused.

All except for one frozen fairy left on the streets, dazed, confused, and alone.

She looked up as Saxophmon stood over her, holding his saxophone with both hands. The fairy let out a childish giggle. “I was promised a shiny thing.”

“I think it’s your bedtime.”

The penguin raised his saxophone, and clonked her on the head. Hard.

Donk.

“Ow.”

Her body stiffened, turned white, and disintegrated, leaving only a little white Cupimon rolling on the ground, groaning.

“That hurt.”

With a murmur, the clones above all looked at each other, with confusion on their faces. Then, like some morbid fireworks display, they all exploded at once, sending fragments of data fluttering away into the breeze.

Saxophmon placed his instrument over his back, and sighed, running his palms down his face. “I’m...not...doing that again.”

Callum stood up, placing one hand on his hip. “I think that went very well, all things considered. Thanks for that.”

The penguin chuckled. “Don’t mention it.”

“And what about us?”

Callum turned to see the rest of the group, arms folded (as best they could) and staring at him. Martin scratched his nose. “We saved the day as well, you know.”

Aardmon exhaled heavily. “Whatever. At least we’re all together we can finally-“

She never finished that sentence, as the ground beneath them suddenly began to vibrate once again. The wind started up again, only it seemed different. More vocal. More throaty.

Actually, come to think of it, it sounded an awful lot like laughter.

hey guys

TO BE CONTINUED...