A kaleidoscopic cacophony of colour rushed past Martin’s face, spreading outwards and burrowing into his brain. He clung onto whatever he could, but his fingers were slipping, colours dancing over his knuckles. He shut his eyes tight, and felt himself being lost in the vortex.

Then suddenly, clunk. He knocked against something and jerked back to reality. He scrabbled wildly, not even daring to breathe as he tried to find any kind of clue as to where he was, or where the others were, or even which way was up.

Clunk.

The boy was knocked aside again, and felt himself listing sideways. Then again, and now whatever was hitting him was turning him over as he slowly shifted from falling to rolling.

Now this was at least a clue as to which way he was going. Unfortunately, at the speed he was going he realised it was still likely to be a bit of a rough landing. He tucked his arms and legs in as best as he could, and waited for the whole ordeal to be over.

In fairness, the landing wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The swirling colours all congregated to one side, and Martin could just about make out the great wall of glass which he was currently rolling down, even as it flew past his head about ten times a second. He rolled and rolled, getting even more nauseous as he did so, and as he rolled the glass wall began to curve downwards, flattening out into a vast plateau. Given his current physical state he kept rolling regardless, shooting out into the centre of a vast rink of glass.

Eventually the rolling stopped, at the very least, though Martin still had to wait for a little bit. For one thing, his head, legs and – frankly – body in general were in no state to try and stand up. For another thing, he was still moving, his momentum carrying him along like a toboggan. At last, after a good ten seconds, he squeaked to a stop on the glassy plain, and his body relaxed.

There he lay, staring at the twinkling lights above. There didn’t seem to be a ceiling. Or maybe there was and he just couldn’t see it. The air around him was cold, but on resting his palm on the floor beneath him he yelped and pulled it away, the smooth surface being too hot to be comfortable. He exhaled, and waited for the next impossible thing to happen. All he could hear for the longest time was the constant slight tick-tick-tick of his own D-Psyche, matching time with his own breath.

“Dad, if you could see me now, you’d have so many questions...”

Finally, some movement, as a pointed blue head hovered over him, letting off little pink flashes into the dark chamber. Manowarmon nodded in an awkward upside-down fashion.

“What are you doing over here?”

Martin clasped his hands over his chest. “Frankly, I’m having the time of my life. How about you?”

“Not bad, considering. A little bitten. But this place has a good gliding surface on the floor. So smooth. I can drift. I’ve never been able to drift. It’s awesome.”

“That is awesome indeed.”

Manowarmon blinked. “So...are we gonna get moving?”

“I can’t right myself.”

“Oh yeah...”

The boy pouted playfully, and held his arms up.

“Please carry me.”

The jellyfish would only go so far. Martin reluctantly resigned himself to returning to the mission, as his partner gracefully reached beneath him and pulled him gently to his feet, using their tentacle hands expertly to provide support on the slippery surface. Martin could help notice that his partner had been stinging less of late; now the slight brush of his tentacles only left a small chill across his bare flesh. He wondered if it was something to do with their growing bond, or whether it was simple overexposure.

He shrugged. That was Martin’s problem in the future. Treatment for repeated jellyfish stings could wait; he had a Digital World to save.

“Right then. Let’s get going.”

The boy plonked his hands on his sides, and promptly went over again, his feet giving way beneath him. Manowarmon just held their arms by their sides, letting out a groan.

“I’m still not gonna carry you...”

“Hey!”

Boy and partner looked up, and saw Aardmon, Callum and Saxophmon over the other side of the vast rink, slowly edging their way towards them. Callum was holding onto Aardmon’s paw, and the two were gently edging forwards over the steel plain. Saxophmon was having a far more jolly time of it, as he moonwalked alongside them with dexterity and finesse, all the while whistling to himself and offering absolutely no help at all.

Callum stumbled, and swore in the distance as he nearly pulled Aardmon over as well. The penguin performed a twirl, and waved at the boy and the jellyfish in the distance.

“Come along! We’re having a blast!”

Manowarmon huffed to themselves, and folded their arms. “I’ve never seen that guy look so happy.”

“Manowarmon? Please?”

“Ugh...fine. I’ll pull you, but if you start falling over on me I will leave you.”

“You said that in the forest.”

“I mean it this time. Dark Area promise.”

Martin tilted his head as he was pulled up from the floor. “Is that a thing?”

“Not really. We don’t do promises.”

A couple of minutes later, Martin skidded over to the other three being towed by his gelatinous flying chariot (as you do). He looked around, and frowned. “No sign of the girls then?”

Aardmon put a hand behind her head. “They...could be anywhere, honestly. I’m sure I saw two different places flashing before my eyes as we got down here.”

There was a whistle as Saxophmon skidded backwards into the conversation, blowing a little riff on his saxophone. Callum reached out and pulled it out of his mouth, before raising a finger. “Stop it.”

The penguin looked almost hurt, and pulled his instrument away, slinging it over his back.

“I’m gonna let you off this time ‘cause you’re my partner, but if you put your grubby mitts on Selma again I will pull your fingers off.”

Callum stuck his tongue out, while Martin looked up at Manowarmon. “I thought you were supposed to be the evil one.”

“Guys?”

Aardmon flounced, throwing her arms out in an overdramatic manner. Saxophmon clicked his beak. “Alright. What’s the plan then? Where are we going?”

Manowarmon looked around. They pointed upwards, at the almost vertical precipice of glass which they’d all managed to fall down.

“I’m guessing that way’s not an option.” They turned around. “Nor that way. The rink seems to just drop off into nothing.”

Aardmon folded her arms, and shuffled forwards towards the edge. “I wouldn’t be so sure...come and have a look at this.”

The others edged forwards, slightly wary of the sheer drop not thirty metres away from them. But when they got there, they gasped in unison. Callum rubbed his chin.

“Well there’s something you don’t see every day.”

The edge of the rink did give way to a vertical drop...of sorts. The drop itself was actually made of a series of tiles; the same glass material of the rink, but in metre square sections. As the group’s eyes followed the pattern of the tiles down, they saw the pathway tilt up, sideways, back and forth in various different ways, until the whole route led to a vast structure of metal and glass, seemingly hanging in the free black void. It was quite beautiful, and almost painful to look at as the little lights converged through the labyrinth, dancing through it and reflecting off every surface.

Martin shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get the hang of this world.”

Aardmon folded her arms, looking uncharacteristically smug. “Come on then, doesn’t that look like a far more interesting place?”

“I guess...?” Callum pushed his head a few inches forwards, and swallowed. “Though there’s still the slight problem of getting down there in the first place.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”

Before anybody could stop her, Aardmon stuck a foot out and practically bent ninety-degrees forwards over the edge. The boys rushed forwards, but she waved up at them, standing on the vertical edge with no problems whatsoever.

“You’re impressed, aren’t you...”

Nobody else answered. The aardvark winked, and turned on her heels, walking downwards in the most casual manner in the world. “Come on then, let’s go exploring.”

Martin looked up at Callum. “How the eff did she know she could do that?”

Callum raised a finger to his lips, “Ssh. Think of it as a blessing; she’s actually guiding us for once.”

“I’m guessing it’s safe then.”

“Yeah...”

The two boys slowly looked over the edge at the twisting structure. Then they looked at each other.

“You first,” they said in unison.

Eventually Aardmon managed to coax them all over the edge, and they all descended as a unit into the mirror maze below. It was far bigger than it had seemed from that high up, to the point where they weren’t even one hundred metres in and already they felt immersed in the shining cubes.

Martin tried not to look directly at the walls as they shifted and twisted all around him, forming admittedly beautiful but also painful patterns like sand travelling over glass. Occasionally they would let out the same little pockets of light which danced through the air; some of them even travelled through their bodies with a distinct tingling feeling. Manowarmon was already carrying at least three, and they were showing serious concern as to whether these things were going to poison them or burn them from the inside.

Callum, Saxophmon and Aardmon wandered ahead, with Aardmon leading the way as best she could. It wasn’t easy going, as with every step the mirrored walls were getting more active, as if they could sense their very presence. Also they appeared to be going downwards, although their feet were constantly planted firmly on the ground. Every time the floor curved, they curved with it. It was all very disorientating.

Eventually they stopped, just to try and gather their bearings. Martin took off his glasses and held the bridge of his nose, shivering.

“I didn’t expect it to be smooth sailing but this is a bit weird for my liking.”

Manowarmon descended to just a few inches from the floor, and nudged the boy. “In all seriousness, I can give you a lift if you want.”

Martin smiled. “Thanks, but I really ought to do some walking.”

He looked ahead, and sighed when he saw himself in the mirrored wall. The jellyfish looked into his eyes. “You...really look out of it. I’m just a bit worried, that’s all.”

The boy smirked, and gestured to his own reflection. “Look at that, Manowarmon. Is that really the face of the hero who’s here to liberate the world? Or the body of a hero? I look like I’ve gotten stuck in a toaster.”

Manowarmon shook their head, and they held their arms out. “You all look weird to me, and yet Yggdrasil keeps summoning you. I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about.”

“It’s not just that.” Martin looked up at the jellyfish, with a guilty look in his eyes. “You’ve done a lot for me for no real reward. How can you believe in me when I don’t even believe in myself half the time?”

The jellyfish blinked, and a couple of lights flickered along their flank. “You’re asking the wrong Digimon. But you know, I’m not cut out to be a hero and yet I’m here anyway.”

“You’re good at this though.”

“I am literally a demon spawn from the Dark Area. I know that doesn’t mean much to you or the others but it’s a pretty big deal.”

“Touché.”

The jellyfish giggled, and prodded Martin on the head. “Don’t look so confused. It doesn’t suit you.”

Up ahead, Aardmon stared upwards as the terrain curved in a concave manner, showing the full extent of the mirror maze they’d found themselves in. She grimaced.

“Yeesh. This could get tricky.”

Saxophmon huffed, and pointed behind him. “Can’t the jelly...y’know...fly?”

Aardmon pointed upwards, and Callum and the penguin followed her gaze.

“Ah.”

Somehow the maze was everywhere. Every dimension, every surface, bending back on itself and transcending the laws of space. Saxophmon placed his hands on his hips. “So how did we get here exactly? I don’t remember us walking for that long, and yet we’re right in the middle of this damn thing.”

“The core likes to shift itself around even under normal management. I guess the Funnyman is just playing around.”

Martin whistled as he looked around, the structure quite mesmerizing to behold. He smiled at Callum, but noticed the other boy looking away, holding his D-Psyche.

“You okay man?”

“It’s a bit much. There’s a weird feeling round here; I dunno, it just feels like something’s pulling against me.” He nodded at the other boy. “You can feel it too, right?”

“Well our partners are evolved.” Martin held his palm against his own screen, which felt warm. “All of that’s work on us as well. Can you manage it?”

Callum pressed his lips together, and stood up, shaking out his free arm.

“I’ll have to.”

The group advanced downwards, becoming more and more engrained in the labyrinth. Pretty soon even simple navigation became a chore as the walls became entirely geometric, every surface perfectly reflecting back the five explorers. More than once they walked straight into one wall and fell through another off to one side. And all the while the little lights glittered all around, and the atmosphere became hazy and artificial.

Callum shuffled closer to his partner. “Be careful guys. It’s gonna be easy to get lost in here.”

“You don’t say...” Martin shivered, and reached back to hold onto Manowarmon’s dome. “I think I might ride with you after all...”

His hand hit glass. He turned around, and saw himself staring back. The boy turned around, but three surfaces were just his own figure, swirling around in the mysterious metal. The other led to a long corridor.

“Guys...”

“What was that?”

Aardmon looked over her shoulder, stopping in her tracks as she looked at the group around her. There they all were, reflected tenfold, with her included. But there was one missing.

“Martin’s gone.”

Manowarmon whirled round, heading back a few feet. “Martin?”

“Hello?”

“Don’t go backwards!”

It was too late; Manowarmon turned a corner, and vanished, the mirror maze changing in an instant. Aardmon turned back to the other two, but they were no longer there. Only she was, her fur dishevelled and her eyes wide.

“Oh no...I’ve done it again.”

She raised her palms up, trying desperately to search for another hidden door, a hidden panel or anything. It was no use. She was isolated. Although all around her she could hear the sounds of disorientation from the tamers.

“Callum?”

“Martin, is that you?”

“Manowarmon!”

“Where are you?”

“Where are you? Where am I?”

Callum clutched Saxophmon’s jacket tightly and stayed as close as he could to the bird, the silence deafening in the reflective prison.

“Don’t...move...anywhere...”

Saxophmon hummed to himself as he stared around.

“This...could be a problem...”

After what seemed like hours walking in circles, there wasn’t much to do except to proceed. Callum and Saxophmon didn’t take any chances; they held each other’s hands, and felt around every corner, making sure they knew exactly where the path went and what it was going to lead to.

Around them, the mirrors had changed yet again. No longer swirling colours and hypnotic patterns, now they showed long, dark streaks that slowly edged downwards, forming almost bloody patterns as Callum and Saxophmon edged forwards, staying as close as they possibly could to one another.

Saxophmon grimaced as they turned a corner slowly, seeing a flurry of red and orange before them. “This place really has its own ideas about aesthetic, doesn’t it...”

Callum didn’t answer; he just stayed incredibly focused as he walked just within his partner’s shadow. The penguin glanced over his shoulder, and huffed. “I hope you appreciate my dry sarcasm.”

“Yeah. It’s cool.”

“Okay, no it isn’t, so something’s up with you.”

Callum jumped as one of the walls flickered violently, and he caught his breath. “Y’think? This is a bit freaky, you know.”

Saxophmon blinked. “I can see kinda how you feel. You feeling okay? I’m guessing not.”

“You’re guessing right. We’ve lost everyone. We’re supposed to be finding the Funnyman and instead we’re...fucking lost.Again.”

The boy kept his voice down, but even so his words echoed around, seeming to bounce off the mirror surfaces and back at him. Saxophmon knelt down, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I know it’s hard, but relax. We haven’t lost yet.”

Callum raised his eyebrows, exasperated. “It’s easy for you to say. You never panic.”

“Oh I do. I just internalise it all.”

“Look out!”

The penguin whipped his head round, a couple of icicles forming behind him. For the briefest of seconds he thought he could see something disappearing; a spiny limb of some sort. He held his breath, but it didn’t reappear.

He and the boy stood up, and they shuffled forwards even more slowly than before. Saxophmon shrugged. “Look on the bright side. At least we can still hear everyone. Come on; it’s a bit lighter over here.”

Callum looked rapidly behind his shoulder, hearing something that he really didn’t want to.

The something leapt up onto its vantage point, and gently tiptoed across the top of the maze, its claws gripping the mirrors with ease as it kept perfect balance. Its intelligence was limited, but even so it could still glean some sense of sport in this whole affair. Its long tail swished from side to side, signalling the presence of somebody in another part of the labyrinth.

This one was going to be a fun one. This one had anxiety. They were always the most fun to drag out into the open.

It gurgled, and tiptoed forwards, beginning its hunt anew.

Martin could hear the mysterious creaking of the panels all around, in tune with his own footsteps and, somehow, his own breathing. He edged around a corner, only to be confronted by yet more mirrors. Yet more visions of himself.

He stopped, and stared at one of them, his own disappointing figure staring back. He could vaguely hear a whispered clicking behind him, but on turning round there was nothing. Perhaps the flick of a spiny leg vanishing from sight.

“Manowarmon? Are you still there?”

“Martin?”

The boy sighed. “Yeah.”

“I can hear you. Where are you?”

“Could be anywhere. I have no idea.”

“I see a light.”

The boy looked to one side, and frowned. “I can see one too.”

A few metres away, a mirror was flashing, slowly turning white and then back again. The boy walked towards it, and stared inside, looking himself all over.

His reflection smiled, and pointed to one side. Another mirror. Another light.

The boy kept walking.

“I wish I could find you.”

Martin laughed. “You wish you could find me? Really? I’m not worth that kind of attention.”

Manowarmon didn’t answer. The boy tilted his head, and his reflection did the same.

“It’s silly really. I thought I could keep us all together. That we could all be heroes together.”

“Is that silly?”

“I don’t know. It seems like it.”

Martin stared sadly at his own face, the mirror pulsing gently. Manowarmon’s voice drifted over, sounding hurt.

“You are a hero.”

Martin’s reflection shook his head, and pointed again.

Martin frowned, and turned around to head back, only to be confronted by his own face in place of the path he’d walked down. He hung his head. Or at least, he would have, but a nagging pain in his neck caused him to straighten up.

“I’m not good enough.”

“I believe in you though.”

Another shake of the head. Martin’s reflection pointed again, straight outwards this time. Towards him. Right at his chest. The boy was dimly aware of his D-Psyche screeching, sending bolt after painful bolt into his body. Get out. Get out now. Danger.

“You ever feel like you’re being played?”

“A lot.” Manowarmon made an inquisitive noise. “Why do you ask?”

“I just worry. I worry more than you see.”

Martin turned, and walked down the corridor of mirrors. His reflections were clear, pointing the way to go. He turned a corner, then another, then towards his own body at the end of the pathway. He held his hands up, running them over his own chest. The D-Psyche was gone, leaving only his own body. The one he’d seen every morning for as long as he could remember. The one he’d hoped beyond hope would be different the next time he saw it.

“You act all calm and stable and inside you just want to scream.”

The jellyfish laughed. “Yeah, but I never act calm and stable in the first place. You know that.”

Martin’s hand moved downwards, resting on his stomach. He clenched his hand, and pulled it away.

“And then everyone expects you to carry on just fine. They think you’re doing great. They’re so impressed.”

His body felt stiff. He glanced up, and noticed a thin trail of thread sticking up behind his head. Waving in the wind. Even though there was no wind.

“Why? What have I...have I ever done that’s so great? I could be doing so much...better...”

The boy reached out, and gently placed his hand on the mirror ahead of him, just where his own face reflected back at him. The nagging pain in his neck continued, like something digging even further in. A barb or a hook, pulling at his spine.

“You’re doing just fine. You don’t need to do any more.”

Martin’s reflection smiled as a shadow passed over it.

“You don’t need to do anything else.”

Martin glanced up, and the thread went taut.

“You’re doing just fine.”

Aardmon rushed through the maze, turning every which way she could think of, but every path just led to more impossible choices. She cursed herself for losing the others, trying to retrace her steps, but she couldn’t even be sure that she was doing that right.

“Stop taunting me! Haven’t you had enough fun?”

The mirrors chimed, vibrating one by one with a sound that could very easily have been laughter.

“You’re a little lost...”

Aardmon whirled round, catching sight of herself. Her reflection glared at her; matted hair, bloodied arms, and sunken-in eyes. It thrust out an arm, pointing at a glimmering mirror down the corridor.

“No! Sand Lancer!”

Aardmon yelled, and stabbed outwards angrily. The mirror shattered, leaving just a blank canvas behind.

“Now what did you do that for?”

Aardmon took off again, but all around her reflections followed her movements, still pointing in the same direction. She turned again, and found herself looking at a single mirror. Only she wasn’t there. She stared at nothing, shoulders hunched as she glared upwards.

“I’m not afraid of you! I’m not falling for your tricks!” Aardmon grinned. “I know what you really are, and trust me, you’re going down.”

The mirror shimmered in front of her, and something large flew past. She jumped, falling back on herself.

“You do, don’t you...”

Aardmon watched in horror as the panel shimmered, the centre splitting open into a huge eye, domed and bloodshot. It swivelled left and right, before focusing on her, the pupil shrinking. Below the eye, the mirror opened up again, the glass peeling back and cracking as wires tumbled out.

you know exactly what i am and i know exactly what you did

“Sh...shut up!”

i wonder how the others will react when they find out

“Sand Lancer!”

Aardmon lunged forwards, but she missed her footing in a panic, her blade crumbling in her hands. The Funnyman laughed; a horrific screeching noise that splintered the glass even more.

or maybe they won’t find out

A shadow passed over her, and her eyes widened. She whirled around, and looked up. Behind her, the Funnyman kept laughing, the glass splintering with every movement.

maybe you’ll just die here with them

Aardmon didn’t answer. She just stared at the abomination hanging above her, staring down. It was almost insectoid, but not quite, with two long spiny legs that balanced atop the mirrors above, and several tiny ones that hung in front of it, scraping against its chin. It didn’t have a torso and appeared to be all head, with one vast set of toothy jaws that remained clamped shut, fastened by a set of long hooked teeth. Its eyes were bulbous, and they moved independently, constantly shifting positions before focusing back on her. Adding to the normal insanity, the top of its head was covered by a pale green coloured piece of fabric, which looked very much like a fishing hat.

The beast was ugly, certainly, but no more so than the group had come across before. Slightly more sinister however were the creature’s long, swaying tails; at least four times as long as its body. One of them bent as it swayed, dangling a length of ultra-thin thread from the end, tipped with an arrow-like hook.

The other two tails were parts of a bundle, splaying out to one side each. They too held threads, but these ones had victims. Aardmon gasped as she saw Manowarmon and Martin struggling in each one, both of them entangled in a mass of wire, and both of them bleeding from the very same hooks digging into their bodies.

The fisherman laughed gutturally, and its tails jiggled, causing both its current captives to scream in pain. The beast didn’t pay any heed to them; it bent down, twisting its head back and forth as it tried to gauge the best way to tackle its new victim.

Aardmon didn’t respond. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, although she could clearly feel the horrific beast’s breath upon her. Her hands were shaking.

“I’m...I’m not afraid of you...”

Without warning, she swung her head up and glared at the beast directly in the eyes, screaming out as sand swirled around her.

“I’m not afraid of you!”

The fisherman reared up, grunting as its third tail swished dangerously around, the arrowhead shattering several mirrors in the vicinity. Aardmon responded in kind, tensing her legs and clutching sand in her palms.

“Sand Lancer!”

She ran left and right, launching blade after blade upwards at the fisherman. It gurgled, running across the top of the mirror maze as it swung its new tail around its head, before lashing downwards.

“Sand LANCER!”

The aardvark thrust up a wall of sand as the arrowhead connected, but it still burst through it, knocking her to one side and into one of the mirrors. The fisherman laughed and leapt over the top, of her, spinning itself around effortlessly. Aardmon heard the mirrors shifting again and she tried to run, but all of a sudden there were no places to hide. Only a single, impossibly straight run. She was completely exposed.

The fisherman laughed, and its poles jiggled, causing Manowarmon and Martin to cry out as the wires dug deeper. It paid no heed to them, instead spinning its third line and throwing it forwards with pinpoint precision.

Aardmon saw the wire dancing before her too late. Desperately she threw herself forwards, but the wire tightened. A sharp pain caught her in the side, and suddenly she was being dragged backwards, the wire wrapping itself around her. Her fur was bloodied as she was hoisted off the ground, and dangled in front of the fisherman’s jagged maw. She struggled, but the wires only got tighter.

“You pull some dirty tricks...”

The monster shifted, seeming to shrug, and it reached out to pull her closer, when all of a sudden it stopped. Its front legs twitched, and it turned around, its eyes twitching as it tried to focus on another part of the maze.

All was silent for a minute. Aardmon, Martin and Manowarmon stopped struggling, wondering what had happened.

There was the distant sound of shattering glass. A howling wind. And, growing ever louder, the keening tones of a bass horn, expertly curving the air into a rushing storm.

“Night in Antarctica!”

The fisherman leapt sideways as the mirrors disintegrated beneath it, the glass being caught up in a whirlwind of ice and snow. Some shards shot upwards, glancing off the fisherman’s face. It growled angrily, repositioning itself again as Ophicleimon stepped into view, his very presence causing the mirrors to frost up.

Callum walked just behind him, the storm curling around him and his arm twitching with blue lights. He stared with a coldness that could rival his partner’s.

“Let...them...GO!”

The fisherman summarily ignored him, instead bundling its three captives together and releasing two of its poles. It growled, swinging them wildly; the arrowheads making little whistling sounds in the air.

“Mercy Melody!”

Ophicleimon fired a black beam directly into its face, but the fisherman shrugged it off, burrowing its way down into the maze and lashing out at the great auk with both weapons. Ophicleimon shrugged them off, though one of them left a gash along his cheek.

“Look out!”

Martin braced himself as the fisherman slammed him against one wall, but it still hurt like hell, particularly when Aardmon crashed against him and crushed him up against the shattered glass. She gave a sarcastic laugh. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

The boy shrugged. “Thanks for stepping in.”

“Please. I’m next to useless. We should know that by now.”

Martin looked down at the ground from his vantage point. “You were fighting to get us out. I just got distracted with my own worries and got stuck up here.”

There was a woof as Manowarmon bobbed around above, trying to pull themselves away but failing.

“Once you’ve finished feeling sorry for yourself can we try and figure a way out of this? I don’t think Ophicleimon’s gonna manage this on his own.”

The three looked down, and caught Callum’s eyes. The boy placed a hand on his D-Psyche, feeling the now-familiar twinge of cold coursing through his flesh.

“Come on, you’ve got this...”

“Night in Antarctica!”

Ophicleimon’s body hummed, and the storm grew in intensity yet again, sending shard of ice out at the fisherman. It stepped back, and the rods flicked upwards, sending the arrowheads over the path of the attack and clattering along the smooth floor behind. Callum noticed them too late.

“Watch out!”

The fisherman leapt backwards and pulled, causing both barbs to leap up and dig themselves into Ophicleimon’s flesh, right at the base of his wings. The auk jolted, feeling the pain as the wires dug in, but he remained standing, and pulling against the fisherman as the wires went taut. The two growled at each other, locked in a tug-of-war from which neither was willing to back down. Ophicleimon shifted from side to side, his feet slipping a little, and he screamed again, a storm whirling towards the fisherman’s face.

It was a direct hit, and the creature faltered a little, shards leaving scrapes in one of its eyes and knocking out two of its teeth. But its determination was admirable. It leant back, opened its mouth and screeched; a horrific, sonic sound that blocked out Ophicleimon’s attack temporarily. Slowly, it began to edge backwards, bit by bit overpowering the auk, although it was close.

“Come on, you’ve gotta get out of this!”

Callum leapt up onto his partner’s back and climbed up; reaching for one of the barbs, but it was already dug deep into the smooth flesh of the wing. He tried to focus on the wire, holding it as tight as he dared and pulling it. The fisherman reacted, jerking backwards and causing the wire to ripple. Callum yelled as it dug into his palm, slashing it open.

Ophicleimon glanced down, gritting his beak. “Get off...I can handle this joker...”

Callum shook his head. “I’m not abandoning you. Not this time!”

CRACK

“Argh!”

The wire rippled as the fisherman pulled it taut, sending it into Callum’s arm and biting into the skin again. The boy tried to hold on, but his grip loosened and he tumbled back down to the ground, landing awkwardly. Ophicleimon was distracted, and stumbled forwards as the fisherman yanked him hard, drawing even more blood from his wings.

Up above, Martin watched it unfold. He saw his friend struggling to stand up, but managing all the same, even though there was nothing he could do to help.

“That’s it! I’ve had it with this bullshit!”

Martin nudged his glasses up, and grabbed hold of the wires holding him, his D-Psyche letting off sparks. He pulled, the wires biting into him and the arrowhead burrowing deeper. Still he didn’t let up, pushing his bindings outwards even as they tried to contract. The fisherman became aware of the disturbance, and growled upwards in an irritated fashion. Martin glared back at him, pushing all the harder.

“I’m not lying around being your happy little souvenir!”

The fisherman yanked the rod inwards, tightening the wires even more. But something was up. Martin’s D-Psyche took offense to the move and expanded outwards, opening up in an odd lattice and pressing against the wires. It sent rings down his arms and legs, and unfolded like a parcel, until the boy was suspended inside a hollow orb, with bolts coursing around the light that smothered his chest.

“You play dirty! You found my lowest point and you tried to exploit that. But that’s not gonna work on us!”

The boy pointed down at Callum, as sparks danced around his eyes.

“We’re so much stronger than you think we are! We have so much more to give than you could ever imagine!”

His voice carried over the tops of the mirrors, causing them to resonate and amplify his words even more, as the fisherman stared up at him, bewildered and utterly irritated. But Martin didn’t stop.

“We’re gonna be heroes, goddamnit! We’re gonna be the best damn heroes you’ve ever seen; the best damn people!”

The fisherman snarled, and threw the bolus to one side, but the movement finally dislodged the wires around Martin and he fell towards the ground. He cried out as the arrowhead yanked itself from the back of his D-Psyche, trailing blood as it did so. But he landed cleanly, managing to stand up and pointing a finger up the creature.

“Let my partner go right now, you bandy-legged arsehole!”

“Toxic Shocker!”

The fisherman jumped as a volley of sparks came from the bolus, and it looked aside to see Manowarmon pressing against their own bindings, a new light in their eyes. The jellyfish looked down at Martin, as trails of lightning began to course around their body.

“Is now a good time?”

Martin held his hand to his chest, feeling the light coursing from his heart. It tingled, and ran all through his body. He pushed his glasses up, and nodded.

“Never better, my friend!”

“Manowarmon, Psyche Synergise!”

The energy finally became too much, breaking the fisherman’s wires and sending Aardmon crashing to the ground. Manowarmon didn’t move though; they just curled up as the lights across their body brightened, eventually forming a kaleidoscope on their skin. The electricity was so thick that it darted out in bolts, cracking the mirrors all around in iridescent spider threads.

“Evolution Activate!”

The atmosphere darkened as purple bolts of lightning exploded out from Martin’s D-Psyche, catching Manowarmon and orbiting around them with immense hums. The jellyfish pressed themselves in even further, the lights around their body now blinding and obscuring their form. They pulsed, their figure getting less defined, and growing significantly. Down below, the fisherman backed away as bolts lashed out at it, leaving great black marks on its skin. The bolts converged, and grew in intensity, a huge electronic whistling sound emanating from the centre. Then they exploded outwards, sending sparks raining down on the spectators below.

Slowly the jellyfish’s new form unfurled itself, revealing itself to be far bigger than before, only rivalled by Minogamemon for sheer size. It was more serpentine than before, with the main ‘tail’ consisting of a series of long tendrils that were bound together by large iron rings, coiling around behind the main head, and shimmering slightly from the strength of the magnetic field they were encased in. Two more long tentacles reached down from the head, flicking back and forth like flexible arms.

The head itself was a spectacular display of colour and light; a single six-sided frill covering a mane of small tentacles, and six half-moon rings that shone like kaleidoscopes. At the centre of the frill was a segmented mouth, with a bright pink glowing eye on each jaw, and smaller lights scattered all around.

The creature’s frill flexed, and they bent themselves around, moving through the sky with the elegance of a kite.

“Siphonamon!”

The fisherman burst forth, lunging out with all both its remaining poles which flew through the air, ready to ensnare its new foe. They wrapped around Siphonamon’s frill and dug in, stopping them in their tracks. The fisherman laughed, but its laugh died out as Siphonamon – completely unprovoked – joined in the mirth.

“Bad move...”

The jellyfish reached out and coiled their front tentacles around the wires that bound them. There was a flash of purple energy, and bolts coursed down the wires’ length and straight into the fisherman’s body. It juddered, and both its poles snapped off, leaving sparking wires in their wake. The beast hissed, and backed away, but Siphonamon wasn’t finished yet; they rushed down with the speed of a viper.

“How do you like it, huh?”

The jellyfish twisted back and forth, sending their tentacles whipping outwards at the fisherman, with orbs of sparks that exploded on contact.

The monster turned and ran, tapping the top of the labyrinth as it scuttled away. Siphonamon took pursuit, as Martin and Aardmon joined Callum beside his partner. Callum was nodding, barely hiding his smile.

“That’s rather impressive.”

Martin watched as his partner twirled gracefully in the air, occasionally reaching out to zap the fisherman below. He rolled his fingers. “They may still need our help. Can we have a lift?”

Ophicleimon nodded, and leant down, holding out his wings as the two tamers and Aardmon climbed on.

Siphonamon was unaware of the others’ presence; they just kept chasing the fisherman, trying to corner it. All of a sudden the beast turned around, and tapped heavily on the maze walls with one rear leg. The sound resonated, causing Siphonamon to pause, their vision distorting ever so slightly.

“What the hell are you doing now...?”

Soon the distortion wasn’t so slight, as the mirrors all around began to shift, pointing directly at the jellyfish and dazzling them with their own colours. Siphonamon recoiled, trying to block the display, but the fisherman’s rods had healed and it threw them all out in a bundle, catching the jellyfish’s neck in a wiry bolus.

Martin saw the move, and pushed himself up, looking all around as the labyrinth shifted erratically. “It’s these damn mirrors! That arsehole is using the maze against us.”

Callum blinked as he looked aside at the other boy. “I’ve never heard you swear so much.”

“Callum!”

“Well is there a way we can wreck it?” Callum gestured with his free arm. “They’re only mirrors after all.”

Martin thought for a moment, before looking up at his partner again.

“Maybe. But we need to free my partner first.”

Ophicleimon nodded, and sped up, barrelling through the walls as he aimed towards the fisherman, who was so focused on its catch above that it wasn’t looking below.

“Surprise, ya bastard!”

Ophicleimon leapt up and thrust his head square into the back of the fisherman, knocking it off balance. Siphonamon took their opportunity and spun, pulling the fisherman from its perch and freeing themselves from the wires. They looked around, still blinking from the dazzling lights, but through the confusion they heard Martin calling up to them.

“Take out the mirrors! Give it nothing to work with!”

“Watch out!”

Ophicleimon raised his beak as the fisherman lunged towards them, stabbing with its hind legs and roaring with irritation. Ophicleimon took a glancing blow, before reaching forwards and pecking it right in the eye. The sphere popped, and deflated, sending ooze all over the floor. But the creature wasn’t deterred; swinging its tail and wrapping a wire around the bird’s neck.

It laughed, but its laughter was short-lived as – in a series of explosions – the mirrors around it shattered into thousands of shards, leaving nothing but pitch-black walls. A shadow passed overhead as Siphonamon reached out, sending bolt after bolt into the walls and knocking them out one by one. Soon the area was dark, with only Siphonamon’s magnificent bioluminescense lighting up the area. It was like a fireworks display, only almost liquid, and constantly shifting in patterns and colours.

The fisherman roared, and made to run, but to its surprise it didn’t move. The creature looked down with its remaining eye, and saw that its feet had been frozen in place. Its joints were frosted up, and its remaining vision was whiting out as ice crystals pummelled it in the face. Ophicleimon reared up and bent his head back sharply, snapping the wire around his neck. He smirked as the creature struggled, muttering and gurgling. Its eye snapped up towards Ophicleimon, and it screamed in his face.

“Yeesh. Let me just balance this out a bit.”

The great auk stabbed forwards again, bursting the creature’s other eye, before turning and sprinting away. Martin looked up at Siphonamon, who was coiling around overhead, his light display growing in intensity.

“Take him down!”

“Tesla Tsunami!”

The jellyfish’s tentacles lunged out, carrying millions of volts at their tips, and they cracked them forwards like whips, one after the other. The movements created arcs that spiralled down, each one striking the fisherman in turn and sending electricity coursing through the labyrinth, smashing dozens of mirrors in the process. The fisherman was lost, the immense energy destroying it from the inside out.

The attack did even more; with the mirrors gone, the labyrinth itself seems to collapse in on itself, with the walls toppling like dominoes. Something caught Siphonamon’s eyes from their vantage point up above, and they slithered down towards Ophicleimon and the others, pointing with an illuminated tentacle.

“I’ve found the centre of the maze. There’s a big hole there. Think it could be a way out?”

They rushed over, standing in the centre of the once beautiful mirror maze. Now that it had been utterly wrecked, it was clear that the geometry wasn’t quite as spectacular as it had let on; merely another illusion of this place. Only a large hall remained, with a few shards of glass that reflected very little.

And indeed, in the middle of the great chamber there was a large chasm, with a strange glow emanating from the bottom. Callum looked over at Martin. “Do you think it’s a good idea to jump down there?”

“No.” Martin scratched behind his head. “But I guess it’s no worse than any of our other ideas.”

Aardmon clutched tightly onto Ophicleimon’s pipes, biting her lip. “We can’t keep rushing around. Sooner or later we have to find the Funnyman. We just have to.”

Siphonamon curled around. “Welp, I guess it’s now or never.” They chirruped, and bent double on themselves, disappearing into the abyss below. The boys looked at each other, and smiled.

“See you on the other side.”

There was a massive boom as the storm opened up and a flurry of high-energy data entered the main core, followed by a lone figure, trundling along on a pair of rickety-looking wheels. He stopped, and stared up at the messed-up fortress in the centre of the core.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He twitched, and a low trilling caught his attention. He turned, and cocked his head to one side as a swarm of monstrous wyrms slithered towards him, aggressive and bloodthirsty.

The figure sighed, and reached behind one shoulder, plucking out a crowbar and flexing his neck, his permanent smile betraying nothing of the weariness and dissatisfaction that made up his everyday life.

“Come on then, let’s get this over with.”

The wyrms bunched together, and jumped as one, swarming the figure in seconds.

“Geez!”

Ophicleimon landed with a thud below, the portal having jettisoned him upside-down. The boys and Aardmon rolled away all around him, each of them shouting their own expletives. There was a buzz of static as Siphonamon hovered down gingerly, their eyes darting between them.

“This might have been easier if I’d flown you through, mightn’t it...”

Martin sat up, and cricked his neck, his eyes widening as he did so. He grinned upwards, looking slightly dazed.

“Well, maybe, but then again what’s the fun in that? Or something like that.” He beamed at the jellyfish. “Thanks, by the way. You were really cool back there.”

The vast jelly seemed to go over all coy, tapping their front tentacles together in exactly the way that Polypmon would.

“...you really think I look cool...?”

There was a shuffling beside them as Aardmon stood up, holding a side of her head.

“Is it just me or can anyone hear something rumbling?”

Everybody went quiet, listening to the new cavern around them. Indeed, there seemed to be something large and heavy coming towards them. Callum squinted, placing a hand to his ear.

“Honestly, I can definitely hear overexcited German shouting...”

As if by magic (of the very loud and explosive kind) a wall blew open and Sindrimon burst through, carrying Lorelie and Ursula on his cart and laughing wildly. He skidded to a halt, and his face burst open into a wide smile as he caught sight of the others.

“Yes! Progress! Discovery! The best kind of excavation!”

Martin raised a hand. “Hi. You timed that well. Have you been following us?”

Ursula shook her head, and pointed at the wriggling tendril in her partner’s hand. “We’ve been following this.”

“...where did you get that?”

“It’s not important.”

The wall creaked open further as Minogamemon pushed herself through, leaping and landing beside the far smaller Sindrimon. Eleanor was knelt in her partner’s shell, her hands clasped over her ears.

“This damn goblin has been singing all fucking journey!”

“Good to see you too.”

As the group reunited and admired the new upgrades, Aardmon wandered over and poked at the little tendril in Sindrimon’s hand. He looked down at her, and let it go, where it fell limply to the floor.

“I think it’s sleeping now. It’s been wiggling around all this time.”

Aardmon looked up. “Why were you following this?”

Lorelie leaned over, and tapped at her keypad. “It was the same thing as on the wyrms. We thought it might be connected to the Funnyman. Or something.”

Aardmon bent down, and prodded the prone tendril.

“If you’re right...and we’re now here...does that mean-“

The tendril burst into life again, and slithered away, scraping along the walls of the mysterious cavern and into the darkness. Aardmon stood up, and swallowed, her heart in her mouth.

“Um...guys...I think we might have reached the centre of the core...”

The excited chatter calmed down as the others looked out into the cavern. On the far side, a blue light appeared as a screen lit up. Then another. Then a control panel. One by one, a series of lights came on, revealing what looked like a huge control room; large chrome pipes, buttons, wires and curved screens facing inwards. Most of it seemed pristine. Other parts looked as if they’d been ripped open and haphazardly connected together. The screens flicked on and off, broken into segments that showed different parts of the digital world. Places they’d been to. Places they recognised. The remnants of the floating cities, the underground catacombs, the floating ocean and Motimon’s half-rebuilt ship. The whole Digital world, all over again.

Ophicleimon whistled. “This place certainly looks very core-ish to me.”

Shrewmon peered up from her position in Lorelie’s arms. “But if this is the core...then where is...”

ladies gentleman and others, shall we get started?

The voice resonated all around the chamber, and the five tamers and six Digimon watched as, slowly, like a ship descending down from above, a large biomechanical mass came into view. The lights flicked off, then back on, bathing the whole area in a saturated blue hue.

And the warriors found themselves staring into the laughing face – scratch that – the many laughing faces, of the Funnyman himself.

welcome to the end of your fucking lives

Outside, the figure was again stood alone. Absentmindedly, he brushed off a bit of twitching wyrm flesh from his shoulder. All around him lay the various dismantled and dormant spirals of the Funnyman’s beasts.

He rapped at the door to the fortress, but nobody answered. He sighed.

“Guess I’ll just let myself in.”

TO BE CONTINUED...