Chapter Text
Within the Digital World, the plush, quilted fields of The Primary Village are stained red by pools of shimmering binary code and littered with the disintegrating bodies of slain baby digimon. The air is filled with the hate-filled lamentations of a furious beast that turns to death throes and is suddenly cut short as a mysterious black digimon cuts them down. "Such a waste." All that is left is a small, white, and silver Digimon. As the black digimon reaches for its morsel, a large tear in space opens up and pulls the small digimon through it. "WAIT!" The tear closes before the black digimon can grab them.
The tear in space spat the small digimon into a puddle of dirty water. The digimon was splattered with mud and grime. "Wh-where am I?" the Digimon found himself in a large, unfamiliar city in a world he did not know. "Who am I?"
In a dark bedroom in an apartment, a young man named Travis slept in his bed. The bed rests in the top left-hand corner of the room, parallel to his desk in the lower left corner. Between the desk and bed is a single window, with a bright red acoustic guitar resting on a stand underneath. Several posters hang on the walls of the room. All the posters were of the same person, an older man named Rufus McKnight, Travis's favorite musician. Some depict him playing a bright electric blue guitar, while others show him singing into a microphone. A door that leads to the bathroom is at the far end of the room, between his closet and dresser. Travis was peacefully sleeping when he was suddenly roused by the sound of his phone playing the loud opening percussion riff of 'Believer' by Imagine Dragons as his alarm. On the highest volume, no less. The time on his phone read 5:00 am. On a Friday. "All right, all right, I'm up!" Travis palms around for his phone before tapping the button to turn off the alarm. Still groggy, Travis picks himself up and shuffles to the bathroom door.
In the bathroom, Travis washes his face. Once he finishes washing, he examines himself in the mirror. Travis is a young man with messy black hair reaching his shoulders and bangs that hang low on his forehead. He has blue eyes, though that is because he hasn't combed them yet. Travis runs his hand down his stubble-covered face, wondering if he should shave today. He chooses not to, and after washing up in the bathroom, Travis leaves and changes out of his nightwear, putting on a dark gray shirt, a black hooded jacket, dark navy blue jeans, and white socks.
Travis leaves his room and enters the main apartment room, making his way over to the kitchen, where he starts to brew a pot of coffee. Once the coffee maker turns on, Travis opens the refrigerator and pulls out the eggs, milk, and other ingredients for the omelet. While mixing everything, he hummed the song that played on his alarm. After thoroughly beating the eggs, he poured some of the mixture into the pan, filling the empty room with the scintillating sizzling sound of the eggs cooking against the hot skillet. The sound was like music to his ears, the smells of the eggs cooking and the brewing coffee complementing each other like a well-orchestrated symphony. As time passed, Travis completed three omelets and set two on the kitchen island, leaving a cup of black coffee next to one and a glass of orange juice by the other.
Within moments of setting the table, Travis was joined by those for whom the breakfast was made: his mother, Monica, and his younger brother, Christopher. Travis's mom was a slightly older woman with brown hair and bright green eyes. Her hair was tied into a tight bun at the base of her head, and she wore a very professional-looking pantsuit. Christopher looks like their mom, and Travis takes more after his dearest father. Christopher's hair was a darker shade of brown, Monica's was a chestnut color, and Christopher's was more earthy, and Christopher had brown eyes. Travis didn't sit with his family; he stood by the stove and enjoyed his meal from a distance.
"Oh, thank you, sweetie," his mom thanked him as she and his brother sat down. Travis knew the morning routine by heart: wake up at 5:00 to get breakfast ready, mom leaves for work by 5:30, Christopher then has an hour and a half to get prepared to go to school, leave the apartment by 7:00, and drop Christopher off by 8:00, which gives Travis enough time to get to school by 9:00. It was like clockwork. Monica works hard for Travis and Christopher and usually stays very late. So, Travis chose to take care of most of the morning tasks, such as preparing breakfast and walking Christopher to school. As Monica finished her food, she grabbed her purse. "Okay, I'm going now. Be careful today; I heard it will rain, so take an Umbrella." She warned both of them, but especially Travis. He has a habit of forgoing an umbrella and walking home in the rain; then, he needs clarification about why he gets sick so often.
Travis smirked and chuckled as he took the plate and put it in the sink. "I'll be fine, don't worry," he said confidently as he washed the dishes. Monica thought otherwise, but had to be on her way. After Travis had made sure Christopher was dressed, Christopher decided to watch TV until it was time to go. Travis will never understand why he likes these 'Digimon' so much. The writing could be more robust, but the animation doesn't help. With his brother occupied for the time being, Travis decided to review his homework until it was time to go.
Once it was time to go, Travis and Christopher gathered their school bags and descended the elevator. No force on earth could convince either of them to walk down eighteen flights of stairs at 7:00 in the morning. Once they reached the lobby, the brothers headed out the front door, passing the doorman. "Hi, Ricky. Bye, Ricky." Travis gave him a courtesy wave, and in return, Ricky tipped his hat. The brothers crossed the enclosed courtyard of their apartment building, the Belnord, a luxury apartment on Broadway Avenue. Travis felt extremely lucky to live on a famous stretch of the city, within walking distance of numerous fantastic stage performances. He also found solace in the layout of Manhattan; the city is arranged into a grid, and every street is numbered. As long as you can see which street you're on, you know how many blocks you must walk to get where you need to go. It baffles him that some people get lost in the city, and some of the older parts of the town are more challenging to navigate, but still.
Travis never felt bothered by walking Christopher to school; he's twelve years old, and someone that young shouldn't be walking around New York alone. However, it was inconvenient that Travis had to make a massive detour for Christopher. Travis and Christopher attend different schools, and Travis's school is located nine blocks east of Christopher's. So, when the day comes that Travis doesn't have to escort him to school every day, he won't be disappointed.
After taking Christopher to school, Travis started walking at a faster pace. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his earbuds. Once he had put them in, he opened Spotify and listened to music. Music is also something that comes naturally to Travis, as is the arrangement of notes and scores, the tones, and the ensemble of instruments. Different sounds that shouldn't work together create the most beautiful melodies; it's inspiring! While listening to his music, Travis walks with a slight hop in his step and the hint of a smile emerging from hiding on his face. But this bliss was relatively short-lived. Once he reached the entrance of his school's courtyard, he put his earbuds away. And now, his head was filled with his schoolmates' dissonant chatter and meaningless gossip. Travis is not a popular student; he has yet to find his group of like-minded people to hang out with and has few friends. He's not upset about it; it means he can focus on more important things like his classwork and caring for his family. It isn't that Travis doesn't want friends; people choose to avoid him. When you're well over six and a half feet tall and loom over most of the student body, plus a handful of teachers, that tends to intimidate people, so he can't be too mad about it. Travis wishes people would stop cowering when he walks by. He's not that scary, is he?
As Travis placed his bag in his locker, the arrival of the only student who bothered to talk to him ruined his internal peace of mind. It was none other than Elliott Kavanaugh, the President of the Drama Club, the Head Reporter for the School News, and an absolute horse's ass. Elliott is a young man in the same grade as Travis, but a year younger than him, and nearly half his size. Elliott stood at 5'4" and weighed 105 lbs, soaking wet, on a good day, so Travis has over a foot and at least 200 lbs on him. Elliott had short brown hair, sickly pale green eyes, and circular-rimmed glasses. Travis is almost sure they're fake, and he's wearing them to seem more intelligent. Elliott wears a short-sleeved white button shirt, an open brown vest, blue jeans, and obnoxiously green and white high-top sneakers. Travis always noticed that the soles of those shoes were mainly raised, so Elliott appeared slightly taller. I'm curious if he's compensating for something. Everyone in Travis's class knows that Elliott's parents run the PTA, which means he can practically get away with murder. Anyone who looked at him funny would get suspended faster than they could blink.
The good thing about not having many friends is that you keep many things to yourself, which means Elliott has to try harder to dig up dirt on him. Travis still needs to learn what he did to garner Elliott's attention, but he has yet to give Travis peace throughout the school year. Maybe he picked up on Travis's 'I could honestly give less of a fuck' vibes and wanted to see what makes him tick. "Well, well, well, Travis Campbell! Still thinking about applying for the school radio? Or have you finally realized you're a talentless hack and given up!" The school's previous radio host moved last week, and the faculty posted a signup sheet for applicants. "I don't understand why we still have that dingy old thing. Radio is old news." Travis likes radio programs; they require much less effort, and you only need a nice-sounding voice, such as pure simplicity. Elliott must have seen Travis lingering near the signup sheet at the end of school yesterday.
When Elliott called him talentless, Travis snapped. "Shut up, Elliott! I don't wanna hear it." Travis slammed his locker shut and walked off to class. As he stormed down the hall, he brushed shoulders with a young girl with cropped light brown hair and green eyes. The girl locked eyes with him as he passed her. "What do you want?" Travis was particularly nasty, looking at her with a hurt expression. She could have sworn she saw a tear in his eye. What could she have done to him?
The young girl stood in place, watching Travis trudge down the hall. As she watched him, two more girls approached her. Both girls took her by the shoulders and were concerned for her, but they also talked about how intimidating Travis was. "Oh my god, Alice, are you okay?"
"I was so worried about you. He's kinda scary." The first girl, Alice, did not respond; she just kept looking in the direction Travis was walking as he slowly disappeared from view.
After school, Travis stands at the bus stop, waiting for the bus so he can go home, finish his homework, and start dinner. He looks up at the dark gray sky and instead decides to walk, not wanting to stand around. Since the bus is taking its sweet time, this will be faster. Of course, his bus passed by just as he left the bus stop. Then the rain started in full force, leaving him soaking wet. "Well. That figures," he said in a huff. Travis remains apathetic to the deluge, pulls up his hood, puts his hands in his pockets, and continues walking. He has a long way to go, after all.
As Travis walks, the rain comes down harder. His mom was right; he should have brought an umbrella. She was always right, after all. While walking down the sidewalk, Travis approaches an alley. Even in the heavy rain, he heard some faint whimpering. Travis looked around the alley but saw nothing. He could still hear the whimpering, much more evident now. It almost sounded like a cry for help. He looked down, and a creature was small enough to hold in both hands. Despite the dirt, the creature's fur was a mix of white and silver, with a small tuft of yellow at the back of its head, resembling a mohawk. The best way Travis could describe it was that it looked like a hamster or a guinea pig the size of a large football. Its body was very compact, lacking a distinct separation between its head and body, and featuring only tiny nubs for its front and rear limbs. Poor thing must be freezing; who knows how long it was out here? Travis knelt to get a closer look at it and examined the creature more closely. It was cold to the touch and shaking! Some primal instinct in his lizard brain made Travis want to protect it. He quickly unzipped his jacket and picked it up, sheltering it from the rain by putting it inside his coat. He could feel its cold, wet paws seeping through his shirt. "You'll be okay. I promise!" The way Travis holds the creature under his jacket makes it appear like he has a plump belly.
As Travis stands up, he hears a heavy boot splash in a puddle of water. A tall, imposing man stands before us. He was wearing a long brown trench coat and a fedora like a detective from a noir film. Unfortunately, Travis can't provide any other details about how the man stands. "Hold it right there!" A million thoughts surge through Travis's mind. Who is this Man? Where did he come from? What does he want? "Son, just hand it over. I don't want to hurt you." Travis saw the man reach into his coat pocket; Travis panicked and reacted by charging at the man.
Travis shoulder-checked and punched the man in the stomach. Once he knew the man was down, Travis bolted down the sidewalk, holding the creature tightly in his jacket pockets. 'What the hell just happened! Was he seriously about to shoot me? Travis thought to himself as he raced down the sidewalk.
Later, Travis quickly hid behind the arch to the Belnord courtyard. Panting heavily, he peeked to see if he was being followed. Thankfully, he wasn't, and hopefully, Travis would never have to see that man again. Travis carefully walked to the front door, keeping his hands in his pockets to hold the creature up. When he arrived at the door, He quickly shuffled past Ricky. "Hi, Ricky. Bye, Ricky." Travis barely made eye contact with the older man as he walked to the elevator. After entering the elevator, he pressed the button for the ninth floor. Thankfully, he was the only person in the elevator. Once the elevator started going up, Travis slumped against the wall and slid down to rest on the floor. "What am I even doing?" Travis thought out loud to himself.
Once the elevator reached the ninth floor, Travis walked down to the opposite end of the hallway to the apartment. After closing the door, Travis struggled to remove his sopping-wet boots while holding the creature under his jacket. "Ho-Okay, I can't believe I'm doing this." Travis briefly examined the apartment; thankfully, his mom was still at work, and his brother hadn't come home from school yet. He wouldn't know where to begin with an explanation since he doesn't fully understand what this is. Travis walks into the bathroom from his bedroom and wets a washcloth under the warm faucet. He gently cleans off the creature's short white fur with light strokes. "There we go." A smile crept along his face. After washing away the mud, Travis dries it with a different towel. He wraps the creature in the towel and moves it to his bed.
Just as Travis was about to leave the room, he heard a high, weak voice speak up. 'Thank… you.' Alarmed, Travis turned sharply around. He thought he was alone, but, of course, the only… 'person' in the room was the tiny creature. "Thank you for saving me." The voice was coming from the beast.
Startled by this creature's speaking ability, Travis backed up against his bedroom door. "Ah! Y-you can talk!" He takes a deep breath and composes himself. "Okay, I'm fine, this is fine. Alright, no, this is not fine! What exactly are you?" He asked, confusedly and alarmed. The creature identified itself as Pusurimon, a Digimon or Digital Monster. Travis had heard of digimon but thought they were a children's TV show. "Okay. That's it. I'm finally going crazy, GREAT!" Travis took a few more deep breaths to keep himself calm. "Okay, Pusurimon. If you're a 'Digital Monster' as you claim. How exactly did you get here?" Travis asked. Pusurimon tried to answer, but found that he was unable to. Travis tried asking a few more questions, but Pusurimon couldn't answer them either. With this in mind, Travis concluded that Pusurimon must have Amnesia. As if his day wasn't weird enough, he has a self-proclaimed amnesiac Digimon in his room! While Travis was sorting things out in his head, Pusurimon wanted to know about Travis, like his name. But before he could answer Pusurimon's questions, he was interrupted by Monica calling for him from the living room. "Uh oh!"
"Travis? Travis, are you home?" Monica called out from outside Travis's room. "The floor is all wet!"
Travis started to panic; he hadn't expected his mom to get home so early today. Travis turned to Pusurimon. "Don't say a word! If anyone asks, you're a stuffed animal!" Pusurimon agreed to the plan but found a logical facility in his claim. If Pusurimon is supposed to pretend to be a stuffed animal, why would someone ask him if he was one? "Err, you know what I mean! Just don't move!" Travis walks out of his room, closing his door behind him. "Mom! You're home earlier than normal." Travis tried to act as if he wasn't hiding a small digital rodent in his room. For as good an actor as he is, he doesn't like lying to his mom.
"Yeah, the office building lost power after the rain started." Monica was too preoccupied with taking off her wet coat to notice that Travis was soaked. "Travis! You're soaking wet!" She seemed upset. I told you to take an umbrella with you, -Jacket. Travis hands her his sopping wet jacket. Travis retorted that he liked walking in the rain. Monica rolled her eyes at the statement. "Did you at least take a shower?" Of course, she was worried about him catching a cold or pneumonia after walking in that deluge for forty-five minutes.
"I was going to, but then you came in and started interrogating me," Travis mentioned as he casually tried to walk back to his room.
"Well, just leave your clothes by the door, and I'll wash them," she said as she hung up her coat and purse. As Travis entered his room, he exclaimed that he could do his laundry.
As Travis walks back to his room, closing the door behind him, Pusurimon remains on the bed, just as Travis told him to. Travis lifts his dark gray shirt and makes his way to the bathroom. "Your mom sounds like a nice lady," Pusurimon said.
Travis looks slightly upset as he leaves his shirt in a heap by the bathroom door. "More than you'll ever know, " he says, entering the bathroom and more forcefully closing the door.
While Travis was showering, Monica entered his room to collect his wet clothes. She bent down to pick up his shirt and noticed Pusurimon sitting on his bed, pretending to be a stuffed animal. "Oh! What are you? You're so cute!" she commented, rubbing her pointer finger on Pusurimon's head. "Hmm. A little prickly, though."
As she began to leave the room, she heard Pusurimon sneeze. "Gesundheit," she spoke without thinking. And Pusurimon also thanked her without thinking. She slowly turns back to look at Pusurimon and then screams.
After hearing his mom shriek, Travis immediately opened the door. Thankfully, he was still wearing his pants. "What happened? What's going on? Oh, what?!"
Monica stood in the room, snuggling Pusurimon very close to her face. "Travis! He's adorable!" Travis was left dumbfounded. How did his plan fall apart so quickly? It's only been five minutes! But she was also handling this much better than he had anticipated. It probably helps that Pusurimon is very small and huggable. "You have so much explaining to do!" she scowled at him. She spoke too soon.
"Can I put a shirt on first?"
Travis, Monica, and Pusurimon moved into the living room. Travis and Pusurimon sat in separate armchairs while Monica sat on the couch across from Travis. Travis tried his best to explain what had happened, finding Pusurimon and returning him to the house while leaving out the encounter with the strange man. "I see. So he doesn't remember anything?" She quickly glanced at Pusurimon nervously. "And he's staying here?"
"Don't worry! I promise not to be a bother!" Pusurimon declared, trying to put Monica at ease marginally.
Monica got up from her seat and made her way over to the door. "I have to pick up Chris. We'll finish talking later." Before she left, Travis asked if she planned to tell Christopher about Pusurimon. "It wouldn't be fair not to. We do everything as a family, remember?" She checked her watch. "I have to go. I'll be back soon."
Travis followed her with his gaze until she left the apartment. He wasn't sure what today would be like when he woke up, but he didn't expect this. Never in his wildest dreams. "This is so weird."
"Tell me about it," Pusurimon Commented. Travis slowly turned his head to look at Pusurimon. The comment amused him, but he was unsure why Pusurimon had said it. Their silence was then broken by the sound of Pusurimon's stomach growling. "Oops, hehe!"
Travis understood what Pusurimon needed; who knows how long he had been in that alley, for after all, he must be starving. Travis stood up and picked Pusurimon up, carrying him to the kitchen island. "All right, here we go." Travis brought Pusurimon over to the kitchen and set him on the island. He went to the fridge and paused. "So… what do Digimon eat exactly?" It sounded like an appropriate question to ask. The Digimon have drastically different anatomy from humans, so who knows what human food could do to them? Pusurimon told Travis that digimon could eat the same foods as humans. While listening, Travis examined what was left in the fridge and made mental notes of what needed to be added to the grocery list later. "Gotcha." He took out the eggs, milk, and other ingredients. Travis cracked some eggs into a bowl, adding a tablespoon of milk before whipping the eggs together. He minced some ham slices and mixed them with some shredded cheese. Once everything was mixed, Travis moved the eggs to a skillet. After cooking for a few minutes, Travis folds the egg over itself and transfers it to a plate. "Here ya go," he said, offering the plate to Pusurimon.
"Thank you! *sniff, sniff* What is it?" Travis was flabbergasted, forgetting that Pusurimon had probably never had an omelet. "Well, it smells good." Pusurimon struggled to bite the food, and Travis needed to help him. Travis picked up a small piece of the egg with a fork and held it to Pusurimon's mouth. The small digimon took the whole bite from the omelet and was ecstatic. "It tastes even better!! It's so good!"
Travis smiled warmly. "Thanks. So, do you remember anything?" Travis could never imagine not remembering anything; it came naturally to him.
Pusurimon shook his head no. "No, nothing. All I can remember is my name and the fact that I'm a Digimon." He paused, then spoke again. "I can remember general information about Digimon, but I need to find out who I used to be." Travis was surprised at Pusurimon's articulation of vocabulary, but it sounded unusual, coming from someone with such a high, squeaky voice.
Nevertheless, Pusurimons' answer was different from what he wanted to hear. "Well, I can't do much about that. Any idea how you got here?" Pusurimon had more bad news; he didn't know what had brought him to the real world. Travis sighed and hung his head. "...great." Travis straightened up and started walking away. Pusurimon asked where he was going, excitedly hopping on the island to try and follow him. "My room. To do my homework. In silence. I haven't even started it because I've been too preoccupied dealing with you!" When he heard Travis raise his voice, Pusurimon retreated slightly and let Travis do his homework peacefully.
Travis finished his homework in record time; he reviewed his work to ensure he got the correct answers while listening to music. Once he had double-checked the last question, his mind began to wander, and he found himself searching for information about Digimon on the Internet. As he expected, Travis mostly found links to episodes from the TV show, gameplay videos from numerous video games, and videos reviewing the card game. He was almost impressed by the volume of merchandise this franchise had to offer. During his search, he found himself scrolling through a Subreddit about Digimon. Again, it was the same stuff he had already seen; sometimes, it was the same videos shared on different platforms. But the deeper he went, the more he eventually found posts of people discussing meeting real digimon. Of course, most comments are from people who deny that such a thing could happen, but Travis was now inclined to believe the original poster. He'd seen it with his own eyes.
About half an hour later, Monica arrived with Travis's younger brother, Christopher. Christopher immediately approached Pusurimon. "Oh my god! Mom was telling the truth!" Christopher grabbed Pusurimon, who was comparatively much larger than Christopher. He held Pusurimon in the tightest death grip of a hug you could imagine.
"Travis, help? Travis!" Pusurimon tried desperately to escape and call out for help, as weak as his voice was after having the air squeezed out of his lungs—if he even had lungs anymore.
Travis couldn't hear Pusurimon because his door was closed, his music was loud, and Pusurimon wasn't loud enough. About a minute into Christopher's death hug, Travis came out. "What's all the noise out here?- Chris! Let go and put him down!" Travis was suddenly very defensive about Pusurimon, insisting that Christopher let him go. Christopher tried to argue that he was only hugging Pusurimon. "No, look, you're hurting him!" Travis pointed out that Pusurimons' tiny limbs were flailing about, desperately trying to escape. Christopher handed Pusurimon over to Travis. Once he changed hands, Pusurimon gasped for air, taking deep, heavy breaths. Christopher apologized for being too rough with him, saying he didn't mean to hurt Pusurimon. "I know. But he's not a toy; you have to be careful."
"We're not… keeping him, right?" As cute as Monica thought Pusurimon was, she wasn't too excited about the idea of Pusurimon staying. Aside from the apparent confusion of a digimon living in their apartment. How would they explain him to anyone, like Travis and Christopher's grandparents? If they saw Pusurimon, they would call an exterminator or try to dispose of him themselves. Travis put her at ease, saying he would try to find out how to send Pusurimon to his home tomorrow.
"What! Why?" Christopher objected. Because he's a big fan of digimon, and this is an ideal scenario for him.
"Chris, he doesn't belong here. This world isn't his home. I'm sorry, that's just how it is." Travis wasn't doing this because he disliked Pusurimon. Obviously, why would he help him if he didn't? But Pusurimon naturally feels uncomfortable being held in Travis's arms after being told he doesn't belong there.
The family, with Pusurimon, sat down for a brief pasta dinner. But, of course, Pusurimon only wanted an omelet. Thankfully, it took a little convincing to have Pusurimon try the pasta. After dinner, Travis picked up Pusurimon and brought him to the bathroom, where he bathed him in the sink. "Didn't you just bathe me earlier? Why do I need another?" Pusurimon complained about the bath but didn't resist the washing.
"I'm not letting you sleep in my bed, being as dirty as you are. Do you have any idea what kind of bacteria you might be carrying? Also, the floor is dirty, and I saw you walking all over it tonight." Travis wasn't being rough with Pusurimon, just a light scrub with a dab of shampoo. Now he knows what Monica meant earlier when she said Pusurimon was prickly. What Travis thought was matted fur was small, keratinous quills, similar to those of a hedgehog.
After washing Pusurimon and drying him off, Travis left him on the bed so he could shower and change. Pusurimon was practically sparkling with how clean his coat was. "I'm so shiny!" He sniffed himself. "And I smell so nice now!" Pusurimon finally understands the beauty of basic hygiene.
After his shower, Travis stepped out of the bathroom wearing his night clothes. Before climbing into bed, he plugged in his phone and left it on his desk. "G'night." Travis fell asleep almost immediately, facing the wall.
Pusurimon found a rather awkward spot on the bed to sleep, trying not to disturb Travis. After Pusurimon drifted to sleep, his mind was filled with broken, disjointed images and sounds he couldn't understand. Visions tinged purple of a baby Digimon being slaughtered by a massive black Digimon. From the perspective he was lying at, he couldn't fully determine what the digimon was, only that it had a sizable black limb with red claws—An overwhelming sense of rage welling up inside Pusurimon. The visions were so intense that they shocked Pusurimon awake! "Gah!" He yelped.
Travis shifted and sat up, bleary-eyed. "What's up?" He asked, half asleep. Pusurimon didn't answer or move; the poor thing was terrified. Travis could reasonably assume that Pusurimon had a bad dream or nightmare. Travis turned around, facing Pusurimon now. "Okay, c'mere." He scooped up Pusurimon with his arm and brought him under the blanket. Again, Travis immediately fell back asleep. Pusurimon remained in shock for a few seconds but snapped out when he realized what Travis had done. He nestled in the crook of Travis's elbow and eventually fell asleep.
The following day, Travis woke up and saw Pusurimon sleeping on his arm. On one hand, he thought it was adorable. On the other hand, he was trapped. What a conundrum! While watching Pusurimon sleep, Travis was suddenly struck with a realization. 'Oh god, it wasn't a dream. All of that happened!' Travis thought, recalling yesterday's events. He didn't need or want to think about that at the moment. He hadn't heard his alarm go off yet, so he could spare a few extra minutes of sleep as a treat.
After ten minutes, Pusurimon was rudely awakened by Travis's alarm. The alarm startled him so severely that he fell off the bed. "Ah!"
Again, Travis woke, and for a brief moment, he thought it was a dream, then he looked down. "Are you okay?" Travis asked, seeing Pusurimon on the ground. Pusurimon was running back and forth on the floor in distress, begging Travis to turn off the alarm. "Okay. Okay, don't pitch a fit." Pusurimon briefly caught a glimpse of the time on his phone. "5:00 am! Why!" Travis offhandedly mentions that he usually sleeps until 9:00 on weekends, but he set his alarm earlier today. "You do that every day!" Pusurimon thought aloud. Travis rolled his eyes at Pusurimon's dramatic comment, put his phone back on his desk, and then went into the bathroom to clean up for the day.
After cleaning up, Travis left his room, carrying Pusurimon. He then walked to the kitchen and placed Pusurimon on the island. "Any requests?" he asked, looking through the cupboard.
As expected, Pusurimon asked for an omelet. Travis obliged and started cooking, mixing an omelet but adding minced ham and sliced mushrooms to the Mix. Pusurimon was giddy with excitement. "ooo! It smells so good!" Travis smiled at Pusurimon's comment and cut the omelet into smaller pieces since Pusurimon's limbs were too short and stubby to manipulate a fork.
While Travis watched Pusurimon eat the omelet, Monica exited her bedroom. She briefly jumped at the sight of Pusurimon but calmed down immediately. "Oh! Oh, it wasn't a dream." She didn't sound pleased about it. Travis reminded her that he would try to take Pusurimon back home. "Right. Speaking of, where exactly do Digimon live?" It hadn't occurred to Travis or Monica that they didn't know where the Digimon lived. Pusurimon said rather bluntly that Digimon live in the Digital World. Of course, it sounds so obvious now.
While Pusurimon finished his breakfast, Travis left to get dressed. When Travis stepped out, he was also carrying his black camouflage backpack. Pusurimon seemed confused as to why Travis had that. "Well, I can't exactly carry you around out in the open." Pusurimon briefly entertained the Stuffed Animal gambit. "Yeah, no. Guys like me don't carry cute stuffed animals around with them."
"You think I'm cute?" Pusurimon teased him but was genuinely flattered.
Travis held the bag open, his face showing irritation. However, his cheeks were a relatively bright shade of red. "Just… get in the freakin' bag."
After forcing Pusurimon to hide in Travis's bag, they made their way to the lobby from the elevator. As Travis approached the door, Ricky, the doorman, briefly stopped him. "Say there, what's in the bag? You don't have school today. It's Saturday." damn this wise old man! All Travis said was that he was going to the park, and Ricky smiled. "Oh, I see. Nice to see you getting into your groove again, eh?" Ricky chuckled and sent Travis on his way. "Such a nice kid." Ricky thought to himself as he returned to his duties.
Travis felt a kick from his bag. "That was weird, right?" Pusurimon commented that the bag's thick fabric muffled the sound.
"You have no idea." And if he can help it, he never will.
Travis and Pusurimon wandered around the city for most of the morning. While walking, Travis was humming a song that Pusurimon enjoyed. "That's a nice song."
Travis felt a little embarrassed. He had forgotten Pusurimon was in his bag. "Um. Thanks." They stopped for lunch at a food cart. Yet another thing about New York that Travis liked was the sheer volume and variety of food available from carts on the corner. In a more rural town, you'd have to go to a proper restaurant for shawarma. But you can get on the corner in New York for five dollars. Travis and Pusurimon sat outside the Museum of Natural History. "Okay, so that does it for the borough. Guess we should try the alley where I found you." Travis thought out loud, taking a bite of a falafel and passing a smaller piece to Pusurimon.
Pusurimon poked out of the bag and took a piece of falafel. "Yeah. That probably should have been our first option."
Travis shrugged. "Eh. Hindsight." he broke the rest of the falafel in half, ate one, and gave the other to Pusurimon. He stood up and stretched after sitting down for so long. "Okay. Let's get going."
After a quick ride on the subway, they returned to the alley from yesterday. Travis knelt, letting Pusurimon hop down from his backpack and shoulder. Pusurimon sniffed around. "Anything?" Travis asked.
"It's hard to tell. The data in this world differs from the Data in the Digital World." Travis needed clarification on what he meant. Pusurimon briefly explained that because the Digital World is composed of Data, there is a lot more of it, and different kinds of data are used for various purposes. However, since the real world isn't composed of Data, it smells different to him.
Travis was very impressed. "Wow. That's some sniffer you've got. It's better than a bloodhound." Travis gently picked up pusurimon and patted its head.
Pusurimon's tiny tail wagged back and forth at Travis, complimenting him. But suddenly, he saw a shadow loom behind Travis. "LOOK OUT!" Pusurimon warned.
In a split second, Travis brought Pusurimon closer and rolled forward just as a figure was about to grab him from behind. Travis turned to look at the figure, recognizing him as the man he had seen the day before. He wore the same clothes from yesterday, at least the same trench coat. "You! Why are you following me?"
The man gave Travis a stern look. "Kid, hand over the Digimon, and no one gets hurt." The man extended a hand as he slowly inched towards Travis, reaching into his other pocket.
Travis protectively held Pusurimon close. "Uh, yeah. Fuck that!" Travis said with a hint of fear as he took off down the alley away from the man.
The man tried to grab Travis but just missed. "HEY!" He then ran after Travis to try to catch him. "Damn, kid! I ain't built for this!" The man commented on his brutal running pace. Comparatively, Travis was running like a speeding bullet.
Travis ran as fast as he could, making random turns down the side streets to try to shake him. That man knew that Pusurimon was a Digimon. That must have been why he was in the alley the previous day. However, trying to shoot someone over it seems like an overreaction. Of course, now the question becomes, why does this man want Pusurimon? And how far is he willing to go? "Travis? Do you know where you're going?" Travis's train of thought was interrupted by Pusurimon.
"Of course, I know where I'm going. I'm a New Yorker! I know these streets like the back of my hand." Travis proudly proclaimed as they reached a two-way intersection in the alley. "Was this always here?" Travis briefly paused, considering either path. Pursurimom panicked and called a foul on Travis' claim. "I'm messing with you. We go right." before going down the right path. "See? Nothing to worry about." Travis says as they approach a wall of crates.
"Travis! We're cornered!" Pusurimon exclaimed, panicking once again. He feared what could happen to either of them if they were caught! So much for Travis knowing these streets like the back of his hand.
"Oh, ye of little faith. Twas all a part of my cunning plan," Travis boasted as he climbed up and over the precarious wall of crates, which collapsed after he reached the other side. "There, now he can't follow us. Shall we?" Travis lightly jogged down the alley.
The man pursuing Travis and Pusurimon found himself unable to get past the crates and boxes. His days of climbing were long behind him. At best, He would have to find another way around. The man pulled a strange, navy blue, and gray rectangular device out of his pocket and spoke into it. The device has a small screen and three vertical buttons. "Looks like it's up to you, partner. I have to find another way around."
An inhumanly deep voice spoke from the device. "Understood, sir."
Travis and Pusurimon finally slowed down. However, Travis was very tired from all the running. "See… we… lost. him." Travis took a minute to catch his breath. "Do you have any idea why he's after you?" Pusurimon shook his head no. Of course, what would be expected from someone who doesn't remember anything? "Well, this just got weird." Pusurimon brought up the idea of them simply going home, which Travis immediately declined. "Oh, hell no! There is no way I'm leading some psycho to my house! Where he could hurt me and my family!" Pusurimon hadn't considered that possibility and apologized. As Travis and Pusurimon continued walking down the alley, Pusurimon's nose twitched. Saying that he smelled something familiar. "Like -what the fuck was that?- AH!" As Travis asked Pusurimon what he smelled, he suddenly felt a warm breath on his neck. He turned around and was frightened by an enormous, muscular lion-man with orange fur and a yellow mane with yellow fur on its legs and the tip of its tail. It has blue eyes, a black nose and mouth, five fingers on its hands and feet, black claws, black ear tips, and scars on its arms, left foot, and face. Its ears are on top of its head. It wears a golden earring on its left ear, a collar with a blue gem in the middle and multiple red teeth around it, black pants with yellow cords forming multiple XS on its side, a black belt with a square metallic buckle on its waist, three others on its left arm, another in its left hand, and another in the pant leg. It carries its sword in the back of its belt. The creature did not wear a shirt, showcasing its impressive physique. The fact that Travis had to back up and crane his neck to look it in the eye frightened him.
The lion man carefully approached the pair. "Please, I do not wish to hurt you." It had the same voice that had spoken to the man earlier. Travis was immediately distrustful of this creature, with its sharp teeth and claws, plus the large sword he was carrying on his hip.
When the lion man reached out to Travis, he immediately ran again. "NOPE, NOPE, NOPE!"
The lion man sighed. "Why did I think that would work? Everyone always runs from me." The lion man sounded disappointed and upset as he pursued the pair. With his size, he had to maintain a light jog to keep pace with Travis, who was running at top speed. "Please, stop running. I wish to talk."
"Yeah, right! You want to use me as your new scratching post!" Travis exclaimed as he tried to run faster, making a sharp left turn. The lion man grumbled to himself, feeling rather insulted.
Travis bolted through the various alleyways, arriving at a dead end. Pusurimon spoke up. "Travis, I can help! Throw me!" Travis thought Pusurimon had finally lost his mind. "Trust me! He's a digimon. I know how to handle this." Travis trusted Pusurimon and pitched the little hedgehog like a bowling ball. Let's hope he scores a strike. As Pusurimon rolled, he picked up speed and began to crackle with electricity. "Prickly Roll!" the little electric ball that was Pusurimon suddenly leaped into the air…and harmlessly pounced off the lion man's chiseled pecs and fell to the hard pavement of the dock. "Oof! Uh… I'm sorry?" Something in the back of Pusurimon's head told him that wouldn't work.
As the lion man reached his massive hand down to Pusurimon, Travis suddenly came in from his blind spot and punched him as hard as possible. "DON'T TOUCH HIM!" However, despite being a solid hit, the Lion Man felt nothing, or so much twitched. He simply glanced at Travis, who had a look that could kill. "If you touch him! I'll KILL YOU!" Travis was furious and refused to let anything go wrong with Pusurimon.
As the Lion man rose to his full height, he had to be one and a half Travis. He spoke clearly and concisely. "Young Man, I mean no ill intent. So I ask for your forgiveness." The lion man remarked as he pinched Travis's shoulder, causing the young man to pass out. The lion man looked down at Pusurimon, frozen stiff with fear. "I do not wish to harm you, but you must come with me." He carefully picked up Pusurimon with one hand and gently stowed him in Travis's backpack, zipping it closed with two of his claws. He could tell Pusurimon was terrified by how the bag was shaking. As the lion man observed his surroundings with Travis slung over his shoulder, his partner, the man from before, finally caught up with him. "Glad you could make it."
"Not. Funny. Leomon!" He looked around. "Where's the little one?" The lion man, now known as Leomon, gestures to Travis's bag. "Oh. Good, let's head back."
After an unknown amount of time had passed, Travis woke up in a strange place. Travis was in a small room- no, a cell. The walls were made of sleek white silver metal, and he was resting on a metal bench. At first, it looked like there were no bars to keep him in, but when he got up and held his hand up to test it, his hand was stopped by a wall of interlocked hexagons that shimmered when he touched it, before not being visible again. "Hey! Let me out of here!" Travis shouted, pounding his fist on the wall, making it shimmer and ripple. "You can't keep me here! I'm a minor, so this is kidnapping!" He didn't notice at first because it was so quiet, but Pusurimon wasn't with him, and he didn't have his backpack either. "Pusurimon? Pusurimon, where are you!"
Suddenly, someone knocked against the invisible wall. "Shaddup!" It was the man who was chasing him. He had removed his trench coat and hat, revealing his short, graying brown hair, green eyes, and bright red jacket with parallel white lines running down the sleeves.
Travis looked at him with hatred and disdain. "What, you didn't bring your roided-out kitty cat this time?" Travis mocked him, pointing out that the man needed Leomon to catch them.
The man scowled at Travis. "Cute." Leomon thought he might scare you if he came with me. I guess he was wrong." The man said. Travis would never admit it, but Leomon did scare him a little. He's used to being the tallest person in the room. It makes him uncomfortable to be shorter than someone. The man produced a pair of handcuffs as a small hole in the wall opened. "Hands. Now." The man ordered Travis to put his hands through the hole so that he could place the handcuffs on him.
Travis couldn't believe what was happening. Was he seriously about to be put in handcuffs?! "Where is Pusurimon? Tell me!" Travis pounded the wall again.
"That's none of your concern." The fact that this man was so tight-lipped about Pusurimon's status drove Travis insane. The man forced the cuffs on Travis's wrists. He stepped to the side, in front of a 3x3 number grid, and input a four-digit code: 8197. The invisible wall of hexagons becomes visible and falls away. "Out, now!" The man ordered Travis to step out of his cell. "Walk!" The man shoved Travis lightly to get him moving and held him by his jacket collar. As the man guided Travis through the various halls of this strange place, he saw other people wearing jackets like the man's, but some were in different colors. He mainly saw younger people wearing blue jackets, while others wore red jackets, like the man, and a handful wore yellow or gold jackets. In addition to their attire, he saw that each person had a creature with them, which Travis could only assume was a Digimon. Travis was intrigued by the various Digimon. Some were animal-like, such as Gaomon, Falcomon, and Gatomon. Others looked more human, like Angemon and Kazemon. And some looked like plants, like Woodmon, Kiwimon, and Jagamon. Before Travis could get a closer look at any of the other Digimon, the man forced Travis down the hallway. "Keep going!"
The man brings Travis outside an interrogation room, where Leomon is seen leaning against the wall across from the door. As Travis was brought closer to Leomon and the door, Travis suddenly stepped on Leomon's foot with his boot and started digging his heel in. This act of violence causes Leomon to wince in pain. "I swear to God. If you hurt him, I'll-!" Travis's threat of bodily harm was interrupted by the man pushing Travis towards the door, telling him to enter. The room was sparse, with only a rectangular metal table and two chairs; the table also had a metal handle, allowing the one being interrogated to have their handcuffs fastened to it, preventing them from running away or acting violently. The only other notable feature of this room was the two-way mirror, a window that can be viewed from both sides. Travis was instructed to sit on the chair closer to the metal handle. When Travis sat down, the handcuff on his left hand was unlocked and clasped around the handle. "Seriously? Where am I going to go?"
"It's for my safety. And, frankly, I think we should cuff your legs, too." The man said, referring to the incident with Leomon a second ago. The man picked up a clipboard with paper and a pen. The man began to ask Travis questions, starting with his name. When Travis gave it to him, he snapped the pen in his hand. "Travis? Travis Campbell!" How does this man know Travis? He'd never met this man before in his life. "You're the delinquent who broke my baby girl's heart!" Oh yeah, that'd do it. First, Travis is insulted that someone would call him a delinquent! Secondly, Travis was stunned. Was this man Alice's dad? What was he talking about? He never broke her heart. However, the man wasn't listening to any of it. "I don't wanna hear it from you!" Alice's dad was so beside himself with rage that he couldn't bring himself to finish the interrogation, throwing the door open and stepping out. "You deal with him! Let's go, Leomon!" he demanded as he and Leomon walked away.
Outside the room, along with Leomon, was another man accompanied by two nearly identical Digimon: Terriermon and Lopmon. The young man had short blonde hair and green eyes. He seems far calmer than Alice's dad. One of his digimon was Terriermon, a bipedal canine with white fur striped with green on its collarbone, paws, and the tips of its ears. Its most prominent features are its long, frayed ears and the solitary horn on its forehead. Like a dog, it has black toes and paw pads. While it is primarily reminiscent of a dog, it shares design elements with its twin species, the Lopmon, which is reminiscent of a rabbit. "I suppose we have no choice. Shall we?" The calm man entered the room with Terriermon and Lopmon. "I apologize for him. He's not the best conversationalist. My name is Willis. It's nice to meet you." Willis extends his right hand for Travis to shake, only to realize that it is the hand Travis has cuffed. "Hmm. How about we take these off, then?" Willis took out a small key and unlocked the other handcuff. Travis didn't say a word, only rubbing his sore wrists. "I understand that you met a digimon yesterday, yes?" Willis waits for Travis' answer, but he refuses to. "You gave Michael quite the Runaround yesterday. He was livid," Willis mentioned amusedly, trying to lighten the tension in the room. Travis glances at Terriermon and Lopmon, standing beside Willis on the other chair. "Don't worry. They won't hurt you."
Travis brings his attention to Willis, giving him a look that would cut down lesser men. "Where. Is. Pusurimon!" Travis is no longer entertaining these people's delusions. He wants to find Pusurimon and go home!
Willis smiles and clasps his hands on the table. "I'm afraid we cannot return the Digimon to you. He doesn't belong in our world. We will return your personal effects, and you may return home. But he must stay here. You understand?" Travis understands Willis's arrangement but requests permission to say goodbye. Willis responds with a warm glance. "I think that can be arranged."
A few minutes later, Travis was brought out of the interrogation room. From left to right, he was met by five individuals: Leomon, holding Pusurimon in both hands, Michael, Willis, Terriermon, and Lopmon. Willis told Michael to return Travis's backpack, which he did rather abrasively. When Travis retrieved his backpack, Pusurimon looked around very nervously. "Wh-what's going on? Travis?"
Travis lowered his head. "I'm sorry about this." As Travis reached out to pet Pusurimon one final time, he suddenly grabbed him with both hands and started running back through the hallway! Travis was never planning on leaving quietly. It was all a ruse to get close enough to grab Pusurimon and make a break for it.
Michael exclaimed in frustration, followed by Willis speaking into his earpiece. "Shut down the elevator, lock down the entire floor, and make sure no one leaves!" The pale overhead lights on the building floor turn off, followed by the activation of red emergency lights.
Michael then also speaks over his earpiece. "All available agents, we have an escaped prisoner. If you spot him, detain him with extreme prejudice!" Willis turns to Michael and asks him if such a hostile declaration is necessary. Michael feels slightly conflicted but rationalizes that it was, and then he and Willis take off after Travis.
As Travis runs with Pusurimon under his arm, he dodges and evades various Agents and their Digmon partners; Meramon tries to grab him, Elecmon tries to shock him, and Palmon tries to trap him. But Travis just barely managed to escape them. He quickly learned of the lockdown, having tried the elevator and the stairs. Most certainly, Travis was caught like a rat in a trap until he found a window and held Pusurimon tighter. "Do you trust me?" Travis asked Pusurimon. He wasn't sure what Travis was planning, but Travis trusted him. So now it's his turn. When Pusurimon nodded affirmatively, Travis ran for the window. Travis collided with the window with his back, shielding Pusurimon from the shards of glass as he fell from the second-floor window. A searing pain and tingling sensation surged when Travis hit the ground with his back. Travis slowly got up and started hobbling away. "That… was a bad idea." Shortly after, he started running.
When Michael saw Travis running from the broken window, he thought Travis was insane. Willis, on the other hand, seemed more fascinated by Travis than vexed. Willis ended the building lockdown and soon walked off to the elevator when Michael asked him where he was going. "We, Agent, are going after him."
Michael asked. "Why?"
Willis responds. "Call it… a social experiment."
Despite the pain and discomfort he was in, Travis pressed on. He was trying to get both of them as far from the building as possible, much to Pusurimon's disapproval. "Travis, slow down! You're hurt; you shouldn't be running!"
Eventually, he listened and leaned against a rock formation. Now, with a moment to catch his breath, he could finally take in his surroundings. "Pusurimon, I don't think we're in Manhattan anymore! Where are we?" Travis looked around; it was a rocky landscape of crags and dense forests as far as the eye could see. This isn't Central Park, either. All of the trees here have weird-colored leaves and odd shapes. Pusurimon had to guess that they were in the Digital World, an idea that made Travis very nervous.
Now, it was Travis who needed to get home. The only difference was that Travis knew how to navigate Manhattan, unlike Pusurimon. "Let's go; I don't want those goons finding us. We need to find a way home." Pusurimon couldn't understand Travis's train of thought. The goal was to get Pusurimon home to the digital world. But now that they are here, all Travis wants to do is take both of them back to the real world. It didn't make sense. Of course, Pusurimon was flattered that Travis cared about his safety, even disregarding Travis' own, but why throw away the easy option? "Look… the thing is, I've kinda grown to like you." Pusurimon was surprised. Travis usually has an unreadable poker face, but at this moment, Pusurimon could see Travis's cheeks turning red. "It's nice having someone to talk to. Okay?" Pusurimon smiled as a warm, pleasant feeling washed over him.
Just as Travis let his guard down, he heard Michael shouting for Travis to show himself. "Come out, you Delinquent! You can't hide forever!" Travis got up to sprint off again, only for a splitting pain to travel down his leg, causing him to yell in anguish. "There he is! Hand over the rodent now!" Travis tried to run away, but his leg could only muster a weak limp. This gave Michael and Leomon time to catch up to Travis. "GOTCHA!" Michael exclaimed as he grabbed Travis by the wrist. "You're not getting away this time!"
Travis tried to break Michael's grip, but was too weak and exhausted. As Michael started to drag Travis back towards the building, they were suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a Tyrannomon. Tyrannomon is a bipedal, Tyrannosaurus rex-like Digimon with blue eyes, three fingers on each hand, three toes on each foot, and a pair of teeth so large that they protrude from the mouth. It has red skin, white skin on its belly, and black stripes on its head, tail, and legs. It has white claws on its fingers and toes and green plates on its back. When Tyrannomon enters the scene, Travis and Pusurimon are separated from Michael. Just as Tyrannomon turns his attention onto Travis, he and Pusurimon are grabbed and brought to safety, closer to Willis, in the blink of an eye by yet another Digimon. Turuiemon is a purple rabbit Digimon with black eyes, three small horns, and two long ears that end in white tips on its head. It also has a triangular white coloration on the bottom part of its face, starting above its black nose. It wears a yellow, sleeveless jumpsuit, on which characters read "Armed Struggle" (武闘, Butou?), a blue scarf around its neck, a black belt on its waist, and black martial arts shoes on its feet. It has a blue scarf around its neck. It wields red gloves that have large iron claws on their backs. "Stay here," Turuiemon advises as she returns to assist Leomon with another new digimon, Gargomon. Gargomon is a bipedal, lagomorph-like canine with green fur, whisker-like markings on its cheeks, and a diamond-shaped marking on its forehead, located just under its horn. It wears a pair of mini-gun-like gauntlets with movable extremities on its tips, serving as its fingers. It then wears D-VI'S 503xx denim jeans. While Gargomon lays down suppressive fire from a distance, Leomon and Turuiemon attack the Dino-digimon with their blades.
Travis was dumbfounded by what he saw, thinking aloud about where the other two Digimon came from. "You don't recognize them?" Willis said, grabbing Travis's attention. "That's Terriermon and Lopmon." Travis refused to believe that the giant rabbit wearing Levi's was also that tiny dog thing from earlier.
Travis then questions how they were able to get so big. Willis explained it as a process called Digivolution. Digimon can change into more powerful forms to aid them in battle; for some, it's only temporary, and for others, it is permanent. Travis turns Pusurimon in his hands to look at him. "Then, why don't you Digivolve?" Pusurimon looks dejected at the ground a little. He claims he could hypothetically Digivolve, but he needs to be stronger. Of course, Travis gets the one Digimon with performance anxiety.
Willis comments that Tyrannomon's behavior is odd. Tyrannomon is usually calm and docile; what could make him act this way? Pusurimon caught a bizarre scent in the wind. He tries to follow the scent trail and sees it leading back to Tyrannomon, and it's getting stronger. "Wait… something's wrong!" As Pusurimon declares his warning, Tyrannomon erupts with a black binary code.
The code stains his skin black and causes his arms to grow disproportionately larger than the rest of his body. Tyrannomon has now become Dark Tyrannomon. Willis steps back in horror. "Just as I feared, Tyrannomon has been infected!" Michael shares a knowing look with Willis and mentions that they have been dealing with infected Digimon more frequently recently.
Dark Tyrannomon sweeps across the quarry with his massive Iron Tail attack, knocking over Leomon, Turuiemon, and Gargomon in one fell swoop! As DarkTyrannomon roars out in pain and anguish, it lumbers forward to finish the job, while the three Digimon struggle to stand up. Travis slowly tried to back up when Pusurimon suddenly leaped out of his arms and started running to the other Digimon as fast as he could. "Pusurimon! What are you doing!"
"I can't just stand around and do nothing!" Pusurimon started running faster and faster. He curls into a ball to use his Prickly Roll, but he's still building up speed! The ball of electricity grew more extensive and more powerful. "Pusurimon, Digivolve to…" The ball of electricity ricochets across the quarry, pinging and bouncing off Dark Tyrannomon with each consecutive strike, delivering sharp electric shocks. With one final strike to Dark Tyrannomon's nose, the ball of electricity bounces onto the ground in front of the other Digimon. "Herissmon!" Herissmon is a bipedal Digimon that resembles a hedgehog. It has light blue eyes, a black snout, ears, white fur, large red claws, and a small tail. Its feet have two digits, and its hands have three. Herissmon's thumbs are only clawless digits. Herissmon has a zigzag-shaped mouth and yellow marks on its belly and under its eyes. It also has gray spiky—mimicking a hedgehog's spikes—on its back, around its neck, under its ears, on the back of its head, and from the top until its snout. The larger strings of fur on the top of its head are yellow, and the fur under its ears also has yellow tips.
Travis is amazed by this development and didn't think Pusurimon would ever look like this. Herrismons' volley of attacks gave the others –Leomon, Gargomon, and Turuiemon– enough time to gather the strength to fight again. They all walk up to Herissmon. "Glad to have you join the fight." Turuiemon acknowledged. Herissmon nods affirmatively in response. He wants to make sure everyone is safe. All of the Digimon charge toward the dazed and stunned DarkTyrannomon and lay into him with their attacks. "Gauntlet Claw!" Turuiemon leaps into the air and slashes down with her claws.
"Gargo Pellets!" Gargomon fires salvos from his wrist launchers.
"Fist of the Beast King!" Leomon fires an orange fire energy blast shaped like a lion's face from his punch.
"Lightning Quills!" Herissmon leaps into the air and spins himself into a ball, releasing quills at Dark Tyrannomon.
Having taken the onslaught of attacks from three champions and one rookie digimon, DarkTyrannomon falls over, unconscious. As Dark Tyrannomon collides with the ground, the black binary code drips and fades off, transforming him into a normal Tyrannomon. "We won? I mean, we won!" Herissmon excitedly jumps in the air. As he was celebrating their victory, Herissmon was overcome with realization. "Travis!" Herissmon roll-dashed towards Travis, jumping up into his arms. "Hi! Hehe." Travis caught Herissmon, but buckled under the weight. Herissmon becomes very concerned. "Ah! Travis, you're still hurt! Sorry." Herissmon tries to leave Travis's embrace, but Travis only holds him tighter.
"It's fine. But don't scare me like that again…" Travis paused because he didn't know what to call him. "So, are you still Pusurimon?"
"Not quite. I was Pusurimon, but then I digivolved! Now, I'm Herrismon!" Herissmon tried his best to visualize his explanation by closing his paws together. "Holy crap! I have hands now!"
Michael suddenly slaps a handcuff on Herisson's paw. "Which means I can do this!" Willis intervenes, asking him to release the cuffs. "What!?" Willis reminds Michael that he likes to avoid repeating himself.
Michael unlocked the cuff and stepped aside, allowing Willis to step up. "I think we got off on the wrong foot before. Perhaps we could start over?"
Willis brought Travis and Herissmon back to the building they were in earlier and led them to his office. He started by clarifying what this place was. This organization is the Digimon Apprehension Task Squad, also known as DATS. DATS strives to protect both the Digital and Physical worlds. Willis then proceeded to explain how humans came into contact with Digimon.
Twenty-six years ago, on August 1, 1997, in Odaiba, Japan, eight children were called into the digital world to protect it from the dark forces that threatened it: the malevolent Devimon, the eclectic Etemon, the diabolical Myotismon, the Dark Masters, and finally, Apocalymon. But their task was far from over. Three years after this, the Digidestined thought they would never see their Digital friends again, and the Internet itself was threatened by a new kind of Digimon: Diaboromon. A digimon that Willis admits he created, but was infected with a virus that corrupted it. Willis also clarifies that he was a DigiDestined, but not one that was sent to the Digital World. Diaboromon was unlike most of the near-miss encounters with the digital world, which were either not observed by large groups of people or dismissed as collective hallucinations. The Diaboromon incident was witnessed by thousands of people worldwide. Willis asks Travis if he recalls ever seeing something on the Internet as a child, and Willis begins to describe some of the events of the incident. Including the final clash with Diaboromon and Omnimon. The more Willis talks about it, the more precise an image Travis conjures in his mind. He remembers it so clearly. Willis explains that over the past two decades, Willis and the other DigiDestined have made it their mission to protect the balance of both worlds. "Why is that a problem?" Travis asked. Willis explained that the two worlds grew closer after contact was made in Odaiba.
However, after twenty years, the two worlds have become too intertwined and are starting to overlap. Now, tears in the Fabric of Space are ripping open, creating links to each world and allowing things to bleed through. Digimon is entering the real world, and humans are entering the Digital World. Travis understood Willis's description but needed clarification about how it was relevant to him. Willis reaches into his desk, pulls out a piece of paper, and then slides it towards Travis. "I would like to offer you a job." Travis examined the piece of paper, noticing it was a job application.
Michael suddenly kicked down the door to Willis's office. "WHAT!" Michael stomped into the room and slammed his hands on the desk. "You cannot be serious! You want to HIRE this delinquent!" Travis was growing increasingly frustrated with Michael labeling him a delinquent. "I can't think of a single reason why we should hire him!"
Willis remained calm and collected, giving Michael a smug smile. "Really? Because I can only think of good reasons to hire him." Willis proceeds to list several reasons why they should hire Travis. "He successfully befriended a Digimon, with no assistance from us, mind you. He also managed to evade you and Leomon for an entire day. And need I remind you that he outsmarted you, me, and several other agents?" Michael was left speechless, unable to find a rebuttal. "But, in the end, it is your choice, Young Man." Willis placed a pen beside the application. Willis wanted to inform Tavis that if he chose not to join DATS, he would never see Herissmon again. Willis clarified that it isn't personal but a necessary precaution; DATS can't have unregistered Tamers roaming around and possibly abusing their Digimon partners. Travis considers the pros and cons of completing this application.
Pro: Travis can keep Herissmon safe and help him recover his Memories. Cons: Travis has yet another thing to balance on his precarious Jenga Tower of tasks, AND his mom will kill him! Travis clicks the pen as he thinks it over before deciding to start filling out the information. Once Travis signed on the Dotted Line, he turned the paper around and slid it back to Willis. "Wonderful. We'll file this into the system, and you can start tomorrow. We'll iron out the details of your schedule later. If that's all, then all I have to say is. Welcome to DATS." Willis offered his hand to shake, which Travis did.
After discussing brass taxes with Willis and HR about his payment, Travis began his return to the apartment, carrying Herissmon in his backpack. Monica was nervously pacing back and forth in the apartment, worrying about Travis. Travis had been out in the city practically all day when he told her he'd only be out for a few hours. He claimed he'd be back around noon several hours ago. When Travis unlocked the door and entered the apartment, Monica breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh my god! Travis, sweetie! There you are! I was getting worried!"
Christopher leaned over the couch, noticing that Pusurimon wasn't with him. "Is… is he gone?" Christopher asked, his voice disappointed and his face sad.
Travis nervously scratched his neck. "Well… in a way?" he said, unsure of himself as his backpack began to rustle and squirm, followed by Herissmon popping his head out.
Monica jumped in shock when she saw Herissmon. "OH! Oh my god, it got bigger." Monica said under her breath, hoping no one heard her. Travis tried to persuade them to listen to his explanation over dinner. After dinner, Travis thoroughly recounted the day's events, barring some extraneous details. Monica and Christopher had a better understanding of the situation. "I see." Monica politely told Christopher it was time for him to go to bed, then dismissed Herissmon to Travis's room so she could talk with him alone. "Sweetie. Are you sure about this? You already have a lot on your plate. And at what cost!" Monica expresses excellent concern for Travis's mental well-being, pointing out that he gave up on the Radio Host position at school because it meant he would have to stay late after school, which would prevent him from being home in time to prepare dinner. "Not to mention, you've also been neglecting some of your other hobbies. Travis, this can't be healthy!"
Travis interjects. "Mom, I know this sounds like a lot, but I'm fine." It's hard to tell if Travis is being Genuine. These things may seem like a lot to the average person, but Travis has been managing. Of course, he is saying that to ease his mom's nerves. "Besides, you didn't see him the way I did. When he was in that alley, he looked so scared and alone. I couldn't just leave him there, you understand?" Travis and Monica share a knowing look. Travis also tries to put her at ease by telling her that Herissmon is his responsibility. "It's all here, in the employee handbook." Travis proclaimed as he pulled out a small booklet featuring a young man and a Generic Digimon on the cover, shaking hands, titled 'Your Digimon and You.' Travis put the book on the table. "Everything will be fine, Mom. I promise."
Monica held Travis's hand. "If you say so, sweetie. However, remember that you don't need to do everything by yourself. You're allowed to ask for help, okay? Especially from us." Travis thanked her, and the two shared an embrace. Shortly after, Monica told him to go to bed. "Now, get to bed. You have work in the morning, Mister Working Man," she said with a chuckle as the two entered their separate rooms.
In Travis's room, he changed out of his clothes, which were covered in dirt from running around and full of holes and tiny shards of glass from the window he had broken. Once safely disposed of, he changed into much more comfortable nightwear and climbed into Bed with Herissmon. "Good night, Travis," Herissmon said with a yawn as he drifted off to sleep.
"G'night, Herissmon," Travis said to himself as he turned off the light and slept.