Aleph, the toony wolf, tugged against his tie; his yellow eyes drooped to the computer in front of him. His tail, gray with a pale blue tip, remained still even as he typed in line after line of code, his fluffy pale blue fur covered by a black suit. He slumped down before he shook his head, rubbing his pale blue hairfur before sighing; his ears drooped downward.

A loud crack came to the side, and he jumped, his fur pointed upwards and his eyes wide. Half a second later, an anthro coyote, dressed in the same black suit, laughed beside Aleph, gripping onto a ruler. Aleph’s ears flattened to the side, only for the coyote to slap him in the back.

“Come on now, Aleph,” the coyote said between snickering. “It was just a harmless joke. But, besides, you look tired, and I thought that could wake you up.”

Aleph rolled his eyes. “A simple poke would’ve sufficed.”

“But it still works, doesn’t it?” The coyote winked at Aleph before slapping against Aleph’s back once more. “That’s a good prodigy.”

The coyote walked away, chuckling, with Aleph rubbing the back of his head for a few seconds, his ears folded to the sides. But he returned to the computer, typing in more code. And yet, as his ears drooped again, he couldn’t help but feel the same code pattern was being repeated. On a whim, he typed in—

At once, water splashed right on Aleph’s head, with his ears folded back and his eyes half-closed. An anthro mink laughed, placing an empty cup on Aleph’s desk, even as Aleph swiveled his chair towards him. Yet, the anthro mink snickered, poking his nose, to which Aleph responded with a frown.

“Ah, come on. It’s nothing more than a harmless prank,” the anthro mink said, rubbing Aleph’s soaked headfur, which splashed water all over his desk. “Be thankful it’s just your clothes and cushions instead of your computer.”

Without a word, Aleph hopped from his chair, which carried a stack of cushions on top of it. The mink laughed, patting Aleph’s head, which was easy since Aleph was half everyone’s height, before picking up his cup. But Aleph kept frowning and, with a huff, stepped out from the cubical, with the mink grinning wide.

Aleph, without looking back, stepped into the restroom for the paper towel dispenser. He ripped them off one by one, pressing them against his fur and clothes and letting them soak in the water before tossing them in the trash. Soon, he slipped his hand-paws into his pockets, feeling for his smartphone and, to his embarrassment, his Digivice. Sure, it doesn’t work, and he knew it was childish to bring it with him, but it felt suitable to carry it along.

One of the stalls swung open, and an anthro gecko stepped out, his blank eyes on Aleph. “Got pranked again?”

“Twice now, maf,” Aleph said, shaking his head even as the gecko widened his left eye. “Anyways to get them to leave me alone?”

The gecko tilted his head, rubbing underneath his neck. “There might be a way. Let me talk with the boss, and we’ll arrange it.”

“Thank you,” Aleph said, shaking his head, which sprayed the remaining water off of him, before stepping out of the restroom. “I swear I’ll go insane if I work here for another two years.”

Soon, Aleph hopped back onto his chair, fingers on the keys. The codes on the screen were different from the one he was typing in, with him tilting his head. He rubbed the back of his ear before shrugging and typing in some more code once more.

A jingle played, with a message popping up from the corner of the screen. He blinked at the email from someone called Stry, which he didn’t recognize. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel that it felt familiar somehow, and he sweated. He hovered the mouse on top of the message box, the two sides within him arguing on what to do. So, he applied pressure on the mouse—

The anthro gecko patted Aleph on his shoulder, with him jumping a bit before turning back. “Sorry if I startled you. But I finished talking with the boss. He wants to arrange a meeting with everyone, and you must be there in person.”

Aleph’s ears drooped. “Does it have to be in front of everyone? I would prefer it if it was just a one-to-one with him.”

The gecko shrugged. “That’s the way it works. Besides, he also wants to talk about our company’s goals.”

“Maf?” Aleph tilted his head, with something clicking within his head. “I thought we had that talk yesterday. In fact, now that I think about it—”

“You must have dreamed that talk up,” the gecko said, patting Aleph’s shoulders again. “We have them once a week, not once a day. So, please come as soon as possible.”

Without waiting for a response, the gecko walked away, approaching the large doors and swinging them open. The coyote and mink stepped out from their cubical and pointed at Aleph before laughing, patting each other’s shoulders. Aleph blinked at their carefree attitude before he felt a hard poke against his side, and his ears folded to the side once more. An anthro red cat stood by his side, grinning while poking some more.

“Ready to go?” the red cat asked, having a wide grin.

“Give me a moment.” Aleph turned back to the monitor and clicked on the email. But he flung it to the side without opening it and felt a sudden pain in his chest for some reason. Yet, he ignored it and hopped off of his chair. “Now I’m ready, maf.”

“Excellent!” The red cat pulled Aleph close like he is his parent and dragged him out of the cubical.

Aleph turned back, the room having four cubical, each having a desk, chair, and computer. The walls were painted gray, cold bars in front of curtains blocking the outside light, though the lights flickered on the sides. Aleph glanced at one of the cubical, where its computer was visible and displayed the same repetitive code.

“I swear I’m going loony, maf,” Aleph said, shaking his head as the cat’s ears folded back.

“Are you OK?” The red cat asked, his blank eyes twitching. “Cause I haven’t heard you say maf in a while.”

“I guess I’m just tired,” Aleph said while shrugging, with the red cat rubbing his chin. “This place drains me of energy, enough that I don’t think I slept in my apartment.”

“That’s the life of a programmer,” the red cat said, shrugging. The two strode on, the hallway having loose wallpaper peeling off even as the carpet rubbed against their feet-paws. “Everything repeats itself again until we die.”

Aleph blinked but didn’t say anything, with the two walking onward for several minutes. But they approached a door and slid through, the meeting room small with only five chairs around a table and a desk in front of it. An anthro chameleon stood in front of it, his back towards the desk as he faced the whiteboard. The red cat and Aleph sat in their chairs, with cushions on Aleph’s own chair, even as the coyote and mink sat opposite them. The coyote and mink patted each other’s shoulders while chuckling even as the gecko sat towards the desk, his fingers curled over each other. Soon, the chameleon spun around, his broad shoulders brushing against the whiteboard, and he clenched his hand-claws tight, his blank eyes on everyone within the room.

“Welcome, everyone,” the chameleon said, raising his chin even as one of his eyes shifted to Aleph. “I’ve called for this meeting to discuss our goals, but before we do, I need to address an incident involving our youngest worker here.” The coyote elbowed his mink buddy. “Now, I’m sure that you all know that bullying in the workforce is strictly not allowed. If this happens again, I’ll be firing everyone involved. Is that clear?”

The coyote and mink grinned, but they nodded, and Aleph raised an eyebrow at them.

“In any case,” the chameleon said, pulling out a marker and pointing at the whiteboard, “let us discuss our company goals and how to reach them.”

The chameleon droned on, his voice becoming a buzz to Aleph as he wrote down numbers. Aleph’s ears drooped, feeling drained, but he raised them when the chameleon’s eye twitched, which still stared at him. Yet, he couldn’t shake how tired he felt, with him squeezing his hand-paws tight.

A ringing sound rang, and Alelph felt a buzz in his suit’s pocket. The others turned to him as he pulled out his smartphone, with the name Stry displayed on it. He blinked, but before he could either answer or hang up, the chameleon strode through the room and grabbed the phone.

“Now, you know the rules about having your phones out,” the chameleon said; Aleph’s ears folded back even as his eyes widened to the size of baseballs. “And you know what happens if someone breaks those rules.”

The coyote and mink snickered as the chameleon pulled out a nail gun from his disk. Aleph grimaced even as the chameleon pressed the nail gun against the smartphone, repeatedly fighting out nails into it. When he finished, he returned the phone to Aleph, who winced at the steel smiley face on the broken black screen.

“I-I could’ve sworn I left it on silent, maf,” Aleph said, with both coyote and mink facing each other and the chameleon’s eyes twitching. “I do apologize for that.”

The chameleon stood straighter, emitting a sigh. “Just be sure not to make the same mistake again. In any case, let us return to the meeting.”

Soon, the chameleon returned to discussing the company’s goals as though there never was an interruption, his voice lifeless and dry. Aleph gulped, tapping his smartphone’s screen with bits of shards pointing out, his tail still. He shook his head before returning to the chameleon, who bent down to the desk. He pulled up a cardboard box, larger than the shelves he pulled it out from, and held a slight grin on his face. The other workers sat straighter, with Aleph glancing at the box.

“And to conclude our meeting,” the chameleon said, pressing his claw into the box, “we at this company have an award for the best worker this week. We hope you love this prize, whoever won this week.”

Aleph frowned as the various workers turned to each other, nodding with a grin. The red cat slapped his hand-paw on Aleph’s shoulder, causing him to flinch with his tail puffed up. The red cat laughed, and Aleph blushed, shaking his head and trying to relax even as the chameleon pulled up a list.

Aleph felt a buzz within his coat once more, and he blinked. He pressed his hand-paw into it, soon touching his childish item, his Digivice, buzzing within. He hid his confusion even as thoughts flew through his head, wondering why his broken Digivice was buzzing. Though, now that he thought about it, why did he think it was broken in the first place.

He turned to the whiteboard, his name on the top with the chameleon pointing at it. “So, our prodigy Aleph has won the best worker of the week.” The red cat pulled Aleph to the side having a wide grin. “We’re all so proud of you.”

“Um, thanks, maf,” Aleph pulled away, with every blank eye on him and everyone giving him a toothy grin. “Um, is it alright if I step out for a moment?”

“I’m afraid you can’t,” the chameleon answered, shaking his head. “At least, not without giving you your prize.”

Aleph gulped, feeling the Digivice buzzing once more. He slinked in embarrassment even as the others gave him a thumbs up. But he slipped his hand-paw into his pocket, pulling out his Digivice just enough for him to glance at the screen. Words displayed on them, and it took all of his willpower to not react.

It said, “THIS LIFE ISN’T REAL! THEY ARE KEEPING YOU PRISONER! GET OUT!”

At once, Aleph felt a cold chill crawling down his spine, pushing the Digivice back into his pocket. He shifted at his coworkers, their grins wider than usual and with a slight glint in their blank eyes. He clenched his fist tight, and the red cat pulled him off his chair before taking him to the chameleon, who grinned at him. He ripped open the box and unfolded the top before pulling out a black hat shaped for a mage with a thick red line above the rim.

“What do you think?” The chameleon asked, looming over Aleph, who sweated. “I’m sure it’ll look great on you. So, put it on.”

“Um, er,” Aleph said, stammering as he sweated some more. His eyes shifted at the desk for a moment, and gears turned in his head. “Isn’t it against company policy to wear a hat, maf?”

The chameleon leaned back, wiggling his hand-claws. “Normally, yes. But since this is a special occasion, I’m willing to make an exception. Especially since you’re such a wonderful worker.”

Aleph nodded, shifting his eyes. “And if I don’t want to?”

“Why don’t you want to?” The chameleon asked, tilting his head. “Everyone here is proud of you and wants you to wear it.”

Aleph tapped his chin before answering, “Because I think it’s ugly.”

The anthro gecko flinched, but his voice remained firm. “Personally, it looks great. And it looks good on you.”

“Maf? How can you tell? I never wore it,” Aleph asked, and the gecko clenched his fist tight.

“Please don’t disrespect our fellow workers,” the chameleon said, his voice cold and firm. “It is offensive and makes for an unhealthy work environment.”

“It’s just a hat.” Aleph’s ears folded back. “And it’s kind of funny. You’re far more direct at me for being rude to a hat when you didn’t even point out the ones who are bullying me, maf.”

“Hey! Those were nothing more than jokes!” The coyote stood up, his fangs barred even as the chameleon gave him a slight nod. “Perhaps you should learn to take a joke sometime!”

“A joke is only a joke when I laugh with you,” Aleph said, narrowing his eyes and slightly grinning. “But that gives me an idea. Be sure to wear something you won’t regret throwing away tomorrow.”

“That’s enough!” The chameleon dropped the hat before ripping the desk off the floor, hovering it over his head. “You’ve been nothing but a brat since we found you!”

Aleph blinked. “What are you—”

But the chameleon roared before slamming the desk on top of Aleph, with him letting out a maf. His body squished, pressed between floor and desk until he was paper thin. His eyes spiraled, seeing nothing but darkness, until the chameleon pulled the desk off, setting it aside. The chameleon growled with the other four, bending down and reaching toward him.

Aleph blinked, meeping before instincts he hadn’t realized were there took over. He slipped his feet-paws off the floor, the chameleon gripping nothing but air, and pushed. He slid away from the roaring chameleon, and the rest of the workers got up, confused. Soon, Aleph slid through under the door, having a cheeky grin.

“Don’t let him get away!”

Aleph rolled himself back onto his flat feet-paws, with heavy footsteps coming from behind the door. He winced, turning from side to side until he spotted one of the wallpapers peeling off. He jumped, slipping through between wall and wallpaper, and straightened himself up, and a second later, the door slammed open. The chameleon stomped in, the doorknob breaking through part of the wall, but he ignored it.

“He couldn’t go that far!” The chameleon growled, with the rest of the workers storming out. “Find him! We still need him!”

Aleph wiggled his ears from side to side and scootched between wall and wallpaper without a sound. But the chameleon growled some more, cracking his fingers before slashing against the wall. He panted but forced himself to calm down, tapping against the wall and tugging at the wallpaper he sliced through. One of his eyes twisted back, and he held a savage grin before turning around, approaching the peeling-off section.

Aleph felt the chameleon’s steps, and he wiggled downward. Soon, he poked at one of the carpet’s openings and slid through them. Half a second later, the chameleon ripped through the wallpaper, with them fell down onto the floor. His grin disappeared, and Aleph pulled himself away underneath the carpet.

“You were there! I know it!” The chameleon roared, grabbing one of the light fixtures and smashing it against the wall. “Where else could you hide!?”

Aleph kept pulling, his pace much faster underneath the carpet despite the paw and dirt smells entering his flat nose. Dirt covered his flat body, staining his suit, but he ignored that, pulling himself away—

His Digivice glowed and vibrated, blinking as he pulled it out from his flat pocket. The screen pressed against one of his eyes, with the words, ‘Initializing Alephmon Mode,’ glowing. Again, he blinked, wondering what that meant, when his body unflattened itself, with him ripping through the carpet and stars spinning around his head.

“Ha! Gotcha, you sneaky brat!” The chameleon grinned, charging toward the dazed Aleph. “You’re not getting away!”

Aleph yelped, but the Digivice glowed brighter, his suit burning away into ashes even as small white cubes ejected from the Digivice. They spun around Aleph, with some fusing into his body, and his ears grew a few inches longer even as his body shrank, becoming more child-sized. A red bandanna formed around his neck, with black rimming around his eyes as they shifted into a narrower shape. Brown, fingerless gloves formed around his swelling hand-paws while his claws grew longer, his chest fur fluffing out as the pale blue fur were replaced with white fur on his chest and belly.

Aleph rolled to the side, with the chameleon slamming against the ground even as a brown belt strap wrapped around his left upper arm. He reached back, a sword and scabbard forming there and with a belt strapping them against his back, from his right shoulder down to his left hip. He pulled the sword out from the scabbard even as brown shorts replaced his burning black pants, a pair of straps hanging by the side, and a brown belt strapping his shorts against his waist. Aleph blinked as he got up, his feet-paws’ claws growing longer, and the chameleon got up, blinking.

“W-what?” The chameleon growled, crouching low. “You haven’t displayed such abilities before.”

Aleph grinned, holding his Digivice with the words ‘Alephmon Mode’ displayed. “Not sure how and why, but I’m not complaining, maf.”

The chameleon gritted his teeth. “Would you STOP saying maf!”

The chameleon lunged forward, roaring, but Aleph sliced against his face, the sword shining coldly in the light. Digital blocks floated away from the impact, the chameleon growling in pain while covering the right side of his face. Aleph blinked, with more digital blocks leaking through between the chameleon’s fingers before sprinting away, sheathing his sword.

Soon, Aleph leaped into the cubical room, twisting around and peeking through every cubical. But no other workers were hiding there or underneath the desk, and Aleph sighed. He then headed over to his cubical, knocking away the cushions and standing on top of the chair, shaking the computer mouse until the screen woke up. Yet the codes on the screen were still typed without keyboard input, and he blinked.

“Maf?” Aleph hovered around the screen before clicking on it, dragging it up and revealing a play bar on the bottom. “W-what?” He twisted around, the gray walls much darker than before and the bars becoming colder. “What is going on?”

At once, an email notification popped up, with it coming from this Stry again. Aleph raised an eyebrow before clicking on it, opening the link to the email account. But as soon as the message from this Stry loaded up, the screen turned bright white, and Aleph leaned back. A blue head with a white spike on his nose popped out from the monitor, colliding against Aleph. The rest of his body slipped out and fell onto the floor, with the blue creature on top.

“Oh, Aleph!” He said, his long floppy ears wiggling with joy before hugging Aleph tight, his hand-paws large. He soon rolled off, careful not to poke his long claws from his feet-paws against him, before pulling Aleph up, his red eyes shining. He rubbed the back of his head just underneath the red bandanna around his neck, his torso white and having a yellow V shape on his forehead and the outer side of his eyes. “We’ve been looking for you for nearly a week!”

“A-a Veemon?” Aleph’s ears folded back. “Why were you searching for me?”

The Veemon’s ears drooped. “I knew it. They erased your memories. Nero didn’t want to believe it when I told him what I saw yesterday, but I saw what they did. I tried to alert A-Ninetales for help, but he didn’t respond.”

Aleph nodded, not knowing those names and yet finding them familiar somehow. “Maf, I-I see. So, you’re this Stry?”

“Yup!” Stry answered, though with a hint of sadness. “We can talk later. Right now, we need to—”

The doors burst open, with the workers stomping in, glaring at Aleph and Stry. Stry gasped, pulling Aleph back to the monitor screen, but the coyote threw a large brown spear without a smile. Despite its curviness, it pierced through screen and computer, and Aleph and Stry yelped. The four workers approached closer, their blank eyes becoming colder.

Soon, the hallway doors broke down, with the chameleon stomping in while covering half of his face. “There’s nowhere to go this time, brat.”

Aleph shook as he pulled out his sword. “Maf, w-what are you?”

“They’re Digimon,” Stry answered, crouching low while Aleph blinked. “Digimon disguising themselves as anthros.”

“I’m glad that you remember,” the chameleon said, and soon his body swelled and ripped until it burst, exposing bark underneath as his former ‘skin’ and clothes dissolved. Finally, he stood on four legs, two on front and two on back, and two of his large arms slammed against each other, his body like a tree trunk and two smaller arms underneath his mouth. “You’ve been an excellent energy source for me, Woodmon!”

“Indeed,” the gecko said, putting on the mage hat which covered his eyes. His body became cloth-like as he turned white, floating in midair. He grew long, sharp teeth and laughed, much like a child putting on a sheet to be a ghost. “It wasn’t easy for me, Soulmon, to manipulate your memories.”

“But with my help, it was simple,” the mink said, his body shrinking as his fur shed off, exposing a white body underneath it all. A purple with yellow circles mushroom cap grew on his head, with plum-colored boxing gloves and shoes forming on him, and he stepped forward. “All Soulmon needed to do was use the toxins I, Mushroomon, produced. Then, with a little dilution, my spores erased your memories.”

“Though you proved to be a stubborn brat,” the coyote said, purple insect wings ripping out from behind. His body grew, straining his ‘skin’ until it ripped off and dissolved, exposing a yellow and black exoskeleton, a massive brown stinger on the abdomen. His black talons and pinchers clicked together, knocking down a cubical even as his wings buzzed, with Aleph and Stry wincing at the pain. “We had to keep reapplying that memory wipe for the past six days. Even I, Flymon, was getting annoyed by that.”

“But perhaps this is a mixed blessing,” the red cat said as a pair of leathery wings ripped off from behind. His fur fell off, revealing red skin with black and purple marking all over even as his nose expanded and moved forward. He grinned, his tail thinning out with the tail shifting into an arrow point even as a three-point pitchfork formed before him, which he grabbed. His clothes dissolved, his arms growing longer and thicker even as his legs became shorter, his ears moving back from the red and purple horns. “After all, we’ll take whatever boundless toony power is left and then move on. I, Boogiemon, believe this is the right course of action.”

“For once, I agree,” Woodmon said, pointing his arms at Aleph and Stry. “We will defeat you and absorb your energy, which you made easier by becoming a Digimon.”

The other Digimon laughed even as Stry grunted, raising his fist up. But something snapped within Aleph, and his expression darkened, a shadow enveloping the upper half of his head. Their words echoed in his mind, with memories flooding in, and he clenched his sword tight.

“Y-you,” Aleph said, and Stry cast a glance at him.

“This is your end!” Mushroomon yelled, jumping forward while swinging his fist back. “Mushroom Ma—”

Aleph leaped, slashing through Mushroomon and kneeling down behind, his sword shining cold. Mushroomon blinked for half a second before his body split in half, with tiny digital cubes flying off. His body dissolved into digital data in a second, with the remaining four opposing Digimon blinking or gasping. Stry blinked, his eyes wide as he sprinted to Aleph’s side.

“A-are you OK?” Stry asked, patting Aleph’s shoulder.

But Aleph ignored that and instead pointed his sword at Woodmon. “I remember. I remember it all. We were walking when you ambushed us and kidnapped me. You took me here, strapped me on a chair, and ignored my pleas, instead placing that hat Soulmon wears while laughing. I don’t find it to be funny at all.”

“You-you KILLED my friend!” Flymon stomped towards Aleph, looming over him. “I will—”

But Stry leaped up and slammed his head against Flymon’s own, which cracked. “Vee Headbutt!” Flymon stumbled back, grunted even as Stry landed, and glared at him. “You’ve already given up your so-called moral high ground the moment you kidnapped Aleph and wiped his memories!”

“You little—” Flymon raised his talons at Stry, only for him to leap up, the claws ripping through the floor instead.

Stry swung both arms, punching against the crack on Flymon’s head, the cracks spreading all over his body. “Boom Boom Punch!” Flymon sighed before his body dissolved into digital data, fading to nothing. Stry landed before jumping back with a backflip, landing beside Aleph. “Anyone else?”

Aleph shifted his eyes at Soulmon, who was muttering an enchantment. Soon, blue and black flaming energy formed before him, compressing into a ball before firing it at Aleph. But Aleph charged forward, ducking underneath the ball, which slammed against the wall. Boogiemon flew in front of Aleph, raising his pitchfork, but Stry hit his head against Boogiemon’s stomach, knocking him back.

“Not going down easy, are you?” Soulmon said as Aleph sprinted forward, his face dark. “No matter. Dark Claw!”

A circular shadow formed in front of Soulmon, with a shadowy hand extending out from it, flexing towards Aleph. But Aleph leaped up, avoiding the hazy grip, before slashing Soulmon, kneeling right behind him. Soulmon floated for just a moment before his hat split in half, and half a second later, his body followed. Finally, his body dissolved into digital data, and the shadowy hand faded into nothing.

“H-how can you still be so strong?” Boogiemon glared at Aleph while rubbing against his belly. “You were drained of your energy for nearly a week!”

“Aleph is a lot stronger than you think!” Stry glared at Boogiemon, who pointed his pitchfork at him. “It’ll take years before he really feels your energy drain!

Boogiemon frowned, raising his claws up. “Death Cl—”

But Aleph leaped up, spinning his arms in circles before striking Boogiemon. “Vee Punch!”

Boogiemon staggered back, raising his pitchfork, only for Aleph to spin around and charged forward, piercing his sword through the back. Boogiemon blinked, a sword jetting out from his chest, before he collapsed onto his knees. Before he made contact with the floor, he dissolved, and Aleph landed in front of Stry, who approached and hugged him.

“Y-you!” Woodmon said, and both Aleph and Stry turned and faced him. “You killed all of my friends!” He glared, charging toward Aleph and Stry. “I will end you myself!”

“I will never forgive you,” Aleph said, gripping his sword tighter, “for what you did.”

Woodmon grunted, clenching his hands together before lifting them up. “Woody Smash!”

He swung at Aleph and Stry, but they jumped back, the attack instead ripping through the floor. The entire building shook for a moment, and Woodmon growled, with leaves forming above and spinning around. He flung them at the duo, but Stry ripped up the third cubical and tossed it, with most of the leaves lodged in and with only a few piercing through.

“I find it sick,” Stry said, jumping up and slamming Woodmon with both feet-paws to the face, with him grunting. “The fact that you only shared your compassion with your friends while laughing and exploiting my dear friend only showed how hollow you really are!”

“Even we need something to eat! Something to absorb!” Woodmon raised one of his branches as Stry flipped back, thrusting it at him. “Branch Bash!”

Aleph leaped, slicing through the attack even as Woodmon blinked. “Then you picked the wrong group.”

Stry landed before leaping forward, slamming his head against Woodmon’s face, with bark flying off. “And there’s no one to blame but yourself for this!”

Woodmon screamed, but Aleph sliced through Woodmon several times, chopping off his little arms with small digital cubes leaking out. Aleph and Stry landed beside each other, with Woodmon stumbling back, struggling as his body dissolved, screaming. But he ripped through a wall, exposing a button, and slammed against it just before the rest of his body dissolved into digital data.

Aleph exhaled, the shadows over his head disappearing, and he grinned, sheaving his sword once more. But the room rumbled, and he stumbled along with Stry. “Maf? What is happening?”

“I-I think he set this place to blow up!” Stry widened his eyes before spinning around at the trashed room. But one cubical remained untouched, and he grunted, grabbing Aleph’s arm and dragging him towards it. They stepped in, the computer and monitor untouched, and Stry nodded, his grip tightened. “Ready?”

Aleph blinked, but Stry pulled him in without waiting for a response. Their arms phased into the monitor as its screen glowed bright white. They fell in, with darkness surrounding them with the only light source above. But it soon disappeared, and Aleph yelped, wiggling in the dark.

A few seconds later, colors returned, and they fell onto the ground, with Aleph on top of Stry. They groaned and got up, the two within a jungle of some kind. Aleph shook his head before turning back, a monitor screen on the ground displaying static right in front of a tree.

“Maf?” Aleph shook his head. “Where are we?”

“We’re in the Digital World!” Stry answered, pulling Aleph close in a hug. “It’s how I managed to locate and observe you. Nero must be worried about you, so we must hurry.”

“Maf, right,” Aleph said, grinning. “Sounds like a new adventure!”

“Indeed, buddy,” Stry said, grinning as well while holding onto Aleph’s hand-paw, taking him in. “I know this world like the back of my hand. As long as you follow my lead, we’ll be—”

Soon, a crack came beside them, and a tree fell toward them. Aleph and Stry blinked, but before they reacted, it landed on top of them, flattening them paper thin, round like coins. Both groaned from the impact before the tree rolled off them, a Graymon staring at them with an embarrassed grin.

“Sorry.”

“Maaaaaaaf.”