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SUMMARY
At this point they were bygone memories, simply beings that appeared and disappeared. Then, one chance encounter led Ernesto to the truth. Digimon were real, and something no one could expect was about to befall both worlds.- Original story that will combine elements from all mediums and Digimon lore.
INTRO
It's sacrilegious, I know. Plus I'm technically committing suicide since the chances of people reading a non-Pokemon story are relatively low. That being said, Bulba being the place where I mainly put up my stories, I felt it would be rude if I didn't post it here as well. So...yeah.
Right of the bat, I can tell you that you need no prior knowledge of the Digimon franchise in order to read this story. In fact it would actually be kind of easier for me if people don't have previous knowledge of it. I've written this story as my Digimon story, grabbing elements and pieces from all other Digimon mediums and cobbling them together to create a Flaze branded Digimon fic so to speak.
For those that do have a familiarity with Digimon, hi. I know it can be weird to give it a shot to a story that doesn't explore any prebuilt lore, but I did do a deep dive on the general Digimon lore outside of what the Anime and games focus on.
With that said, let's get to it.
Digimon Genesis
Chapter 1: Always Check your Spam Box
Chapter 1: Always Check your Spam Box
As long as you do your best, things will work out.
That’s what he believed in ever since he was a kid. Even as everyone around him grew up and found what they wanted to do with their lives, even as he continued onwards with a profession that, while intriguing, wasn’t what really called to him down in his heart.
But he persevered regardless of that. He had to. It was expected of him.
And yet, there was always a part of him that went back to those days as a kid, to that one moment in his life where the whole world was turned upside down. He could still remember the day he saw it, that large dinosaur straight out of a Godzilla movie blasting off flames against other monsters.
He always wondered what happened to them. Why would they suddenly disappear? And why was it so wrong for him to find them cool even when everyone else saw them as terrifying beasts.
But alas, he never found his answers.
And so, life went on.
***
“Goddamn it, this is way too complicated,” Ernesto whined to himself. He reclined on the back of his chair, accidentally sliding against his bed and involuntarily jumping up at the impact. “How am I supposed to figure this out if it won’t even tell me where I made a mistake?” he wondered to himself with a frown as he continuously typed Ctrl+Z on his keyboard.
Freelance work could get annoying; you didn’t have work on a strict schedule or deal with annoying coworkers. You did, however, have deadlines that you had to follow and deal with annoying customers who wanted you to work your ass off for as cheap as possible.
Ernesto wasn’t happy about it, but it paid the bills.
He scanned the wall of code displayed on his screen while his feet tapped to the tune of the music video playing on another tab. He wasn’t really paying too much attention to the song but it helped him think.
He went through every line of code desperately, seething at the fact that the only thing standing between him and the cash he so badly needed was a measly debugging error. “There!” he yelled out as he quickly noticed a missing semicolon. His fingers moved like lightning as he hit the backspace key with fervor and ran the program again.
“Damn it!” he yelled out upon seeing yet another error display on his browser’s console. “You really like making my life hell don’t you?” his teeth gritted
Maybe all he needed was a break, take in some fresh air and clear his head. He peered out towards the park, staring at the families and couples enjoying their time together.
“Must be fun.”
The other thing that jumped at him was the lighting. While his room was kept relatively bright thanks to the white lightbulb that hung on the roof, the outside world was now covered by a familiar orange tint. The trees were already casting shadows on the streets and there were already people walking into or opening the bars and restaurants that littered the streets of Linten Avenue.
He cursed under his breath as he realized that it had already been five hours since he first started working and frantically stood up from his chair.
Ernesto searched for his shirt through the unfolded, messy pile of clothes that was slowly amassing inside his closet. Eventually, he settled on a plain white t-shirt with the words “Never Gonna Give You Up” marked on the front, though not without quickly sniffing at it to make sure it was good to use, though it probably didn’t matter for what he was going to do.
Having picked his shirt, he turned towards his bed quickly, only for him to hit the back of his foot against his bed and curse, this time audibly, in pain. He let himself fall to his bed and grabbed onto his ankle as he tried to suppress more curses from rolling out of his mouth. “I really need a bigger room.”
Mustering all his fortitude, Ernesto pushed the pain back and slid his neck into the shirt. He then started padding his shirt down, trying his best to get rid of any wrinkles, just as his phone rang. He groaned at the sound of the phone, he was already late as it is, he didn’t need anyone else taking more of his time.
Of course, his distaste vanished as soon as the word “Mom” came into his periphery. He sighed and suppressed his annoyance. Instead, he was filled with a slight twinge of guilt at his reaction towards his mother. “Hey, mom. Everything okay?”
“Hey, did you finish the work you were doing?” he heard his mom reply as soon as he picked up. “I figured you were going to start working now so I wanted to give you a call, see how the son who I brought to-why do you have me in voice chat? I didn’t give birth to void as far as I remember?”
He rolled his eyes but chuckled a bit upon hearing that comment. “Sorry, I’m gonna need my phone to be charged while I’m at work and video chat’ll just kill it faster,” he explained as he put on his shoes. “Plus it ain’t like you’re getting a treat from seeing my face.”
“Don’t say that, you know I love your cute face,” his mom replied with a loving and exaggerated tone, which caused Ernesto to groan in embarrassment. “But really, I just wanted to check you were okay, we haven’t talked in a while.”
“It’s been three days.”
“Yeah, and you’re my only son. Deal with it,” she countered. “Are you feeling okay though?”
Ernesto stopped tying his shoelaces once he heard his mom’s question, thinking carefully about what he should reply. He stared at the floor for a moment, closing his eyes before smiling. “Yeah, of course, I’m okay,” he laughed. “Listen, I really gotta get to work okay? I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Right, sorry for keeping you.” She replied though she didn’t sound fully convinced. “I love you.”
“Love ya too,” he said as he lowered his phone and pressed the red button to hang up the call. His gaze didn’t leave the phone for a moment, that is until he remembered he was already later than he had originally planned. “Well, better get ready.”
***
8th Street wasn’t the best place to eat in Pine but it was still well known for its casual atmosphere, its cheap prices and its unique meals. In essence, it was the perfect hangout spot thanks to its small size.
Ernesto walked to the front of the restaurant, having started the grill and fryers after coming down from his one bedroom apartment. He began setting up the counter, making sure there were enough napkins and seats available. After that he moved over to the three booths the restaurant windows, looking out for any miniscule sight of grease.
“Oh, I was afraid something happened since you hadn’t come down.”
The source of the voice startled him, cutting his search for filth short. Behind him stood a man with grey hair and a forehead that almost reflected the light from above. The man’s slim built contrasted with the broad, albeit weakened, shoulders at his side. One could tell he’d carried his fair share of weight in his time. “Sorry for taking so long Mr. Marino, I lost track of time with a project I’m doing.” Ernesto apologized.
“That’s okay, kid. You’re doing me and the missus a solid by taking care of the shop anyway, just tell me if you need a day off.” the old man walked over and began inspecting the tables as well.
Ernesto couldn’t help but stare at the experienced restaurant owner, his finger meticulously dragging across the table. “Still no luck finding a new job?” asked the old man while glancing over his finger for any sign of dirt.
“Uh…well, I do pretty well with my freelancing projects…they help out a ton,” Ernesto replied. He rubbed his fingers nervously, trying to find a new topic he could bring up. “But don’t worry, I don’t mind helping with the restaurant, plus it’s really fun!” he laughed just as he walked back into the counter.
“Hmmm, if you say so.” The old man shrugged and began walking to the door. “Anyways, Imma go home and rest up, you take care of the place oka-oh, did you still need me to help with that pipe in the bathroom?”
“Nah, I’m cool, one of my buddies’ll help me with that.”
“Hey, don’t look down on me. I’ve fixed my fair share of pipes here, kid.”
“I’m sure you have,” Ernesto laughed. “But really I’m good, go rest up. Oh, and tell Mrs. Marino I said hi.”
“Sure will.”
Ernesto sighed once Mr. Marino left the restaurant. Between his mom and his boss/landlord, it seemed like he was as transparent as water.
“Better get the day-or I guess night-started,” Ernesto said to himself. He grabbed the remote sitting by the edge of the counter, allowing the sound from the old TV hanging on the roof to liven the restaurant up. Lastly, he made his way to the door sign and flipped it from “CLOSE” to “OPEN”, officially kicking the night off.
“And so, the disappearance of Thomas Milton has left the public puzzled. He was last seen at East Pine Communal Park the night before the aforementioned area was closed down. The motives behind this remain unknown.”
He turned towards the TV as a news reporter talked in front of a park with yellow and black tape hanging off the entrance. Police lights flared all around her and there were even policemen standing guard in front of the park.
“Excuse me, officer. Is there anything you could tell us about the disappearance and why the park was closed down?” the policeman standing guard grimaced as soon as she directed her gaze at him.
“We don’t have any information we can relay at this time, ma’m,” the officer replied monotonously.
This didn’t make the woman back down, however. “But why close it down completely? And what about the weird rumors about explosions going off the night of Thomas’ di-“
“As I have said. We don’t have any information we can relay at this time,” the policeman replied immediately, stepping forward to make the reporter back up. “Any and all other questions should be directed towards the police department.”
The woman stared at him for a moment before sighing and turning back towards the camera. “As you can see, the story behind East Pine Communal Park is still underway. Now back to you, Morrison.”
Ernesto stared at the screen in thought for a moment. Multiple parts of the city had been closed off already, sometimes for days on end.
It was strange but something about the proceedings felt familiar to him if only he could put his finger on it.
“Yo, Ernie!” he was pulled out of his thoughts by a man and a woman walking into the restaurant. The man was short, with unkempt black hair, fair skin and a dirty pair of blue overalls. The woman was around his height but significantly younger with short black hair, dark skin and similar overalls on her. “Old man Marino left already? I wanted to rub the result of the last Mets game on his face,” the man laughed as he walked to the counter and sat down on a chair.
“All streaks break at some point, Mr. Norris.” Ernesto chuckled.
“Hah, if it’s cars or gambling then there’s no way I can fail, isn’t that right, Michelle?” the man turned towards his companion, who simply snickered as she glanced at Ernesto.
“He said that but he ended up adjusting the breaks of a corvette wrong today,” she replied, making the man’s eyes bulge in shock. “Had it not been for me and we would’ve had another Corsa accident,” she added, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Well, even God makes mistakes.” The man argued, turning away in embarrassment. “Anyway. Ernie, give me a Tomato Bomb please.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to call me that?” Ernesto frowned at this. He didn’t like his name in general but he liked it much more than its English equivalent. “What’ll you have, Michelle?”
“She’ll have one t-“
“I’ll have a tuna medley if it’s okay, I’m meeting up with a few friends after this,” Michelle replied, completely interrupting Norris. The man huffed before giving his gaze to the TV.
“On it,” Ernesto smiled as he began making his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a bag with a set of long hot dog buns and took out a couple of tomatoes from the fridge as well as a packet of sausages. Setting the ingredients down, his hand slid towards the tomatoes and knife, the tomato turned diagonally as the knife fell on it, slicing and dicing it into smaller cubes with precision.
“By the way, you’re a tech guy aren’t ya, Ernie?” Mr. Norris asked, his face glued to the TV while Michelle checked her phone.
“Uh, well I’m a web developer and I know a bit of networking,” Ernesto replied, not looking away from the tomatoes.
“Yeah, sure. I need you to check a computer back at the shop, it keeps turning off all of a sudden.”
“Oh, well I’m not that good with hardware stuff.” Ernesto felt a twinge of embarrassment spread across his face. It wasn’t unusual for people to think he was some sort of tech genius just because he studied computer science.
“Huh, I thought you guys were good at that stuff, well I guess I can ask that friend of yours who always comes here. What was his name again?” Mr. Norris asked while scratching his chin.
Ernesto himself felt a wave of annoyance and frustration wash over him as he listened to Mr. Norris. He felt disregarded for a moment, something he’d quickly gotten used to. His hand clenched on the knife for a moment as he stared at the tomatoes, trying his best to calm down and let the comment pass. “Ronaldo.”
“Yeah, good old Ronnie. Hey, what’s up with your names, they’re like Latino but not really.”
“Seriously?” Michelle quickly glanced at Mr. Norris in disbelief.
“Anyway,” Ernesto replied, dismissing the comment entirely. “Ronaldo’s pretty busy with his job, I don’t know if he could really help.”
As if on cue, Ernesto’s statement was drowned out by a yawn coming from outside the restaurant, followed by a new guest, one all too familiar to him.
“Estoy mas que mamao.” The newcomer groaned as he made his way into the restaurant, wiping his square glasses against the edge of his black jacket before sliding them back on.
“Speak of the devil! Good old Ronnie!”
“Oh, Mr. Norris is here. Yaaay,” Ronaldo deadpanned as he waved at Michelle and walked to the counter, pushing a few stray black hairs away from his forehead. “
“Tough day today?” Ernesto asked as he glanced towards his friend.
“I’ll say, I spent all day migrating this service for IBM and I had to wait four hours until they could figure out why their QA check was coming off wrong and then like four people kept asking me to help them with their computers,” Ronaldo replied, lowering the laptop bag he was carrying on the floor as he spoke.
“Speaking of. Kid, think you can help me with this heap of trash back at the shop?”
“Que sean cinco.” Ronaldo groaned. “By the way, we still good for meeting with Lucy and the guys at 11?”
“No le pares, solo anda de las suyas como siempre.” Ernesto gave a quick glance to Mr. Norris, who was clearly confused about him speaking in Spanish. “I spoke to Mr. Marino and he said it was fine, there shouldn’t be too many people coming on a Wednesday anyway,” Ernesto shrugged now cutting open the bun and beginning to add sauces into it. “Wanna eat something before that?”
“Well, if you insist.” Ronaldo chucked as he smiled at his friend. “I’ll have the 8th Cheesesteak, you know how I like it.”
“Better watch out or all that cheese is gonna go someplace else,” Ernesto snickered at his friend.
“God I wish, I haven’t gained weight since high school, if anything my doctor tells me I have to start eating more.” Ronaldo scoffed, leaning back on his chair.
“Lucky bastard,” both Ernesto and Michelle whispered in unison.
“Anyways, about that computer?”
Ronaldo glanced at Mr. Norris for a moment, his face twisted into an awkward smile as he glanced at Ernesto, who simply shook his head. “I’ll go over it on Saturday, okay?”
“Hah! Thanks, I knew I could count on you, Ronnie.”
“Yeah sure,” Ronaldo added, only to take out his phone and realize he’d gotten a text from Ernesto.
“Pushover.”
Ronaldo raised his head, glaring at his friend who simply whistled innocently as he continued cooking. “It’s just. I just can’t okay,” he typed back.
***
“So after spending like three hours grinding and going back and forth I just turned the thing off,” Lucy, Ernesto’s and Ronaldo’s friend whined as she sat across from the two, drinking down from her jug of beer. “Seriously, there’s no point in spending so much time on an upgrade when the quest already makes you strong enough to not need it,” she added, resting her glass down.
“Yeah, I remember I almost threw my controller against the wall when I saw that,” Ronaldo groaned in annoyance, grabbing one of the fries from the basket resting on the table. Of course, he didn’t notice the look everyone gave him at the fact that he was the one who’d grabbed the most fries.
Taking his eyes away from the fries, Ernesto began downing his own beer. “Well, I myself made good use of that armor. I mean, it looks fucking awesome,” he countered, setting the glass down. He did however feel uneasy once his friends glanced at him and then scoffed. “What?”
“You only say that cause you always pass your games on Easy mode,” Luis, the fourth in Ernesto’s group said with a smirk. The slightly overweight man then leaned forward, grabbing a pair of fries from the basket in turn. “It’s the same for fighting games, you always pick whatever character lets you spam attacks.”
“First of all, I play in Normal.” Ernesto frowned, though his statement didn’t deter his friends from rolling their eyes. “Second, I didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“It’s okay, Ernesto. Playing on Easy is your thing, we get it,” Lucy teased, drinking some more of her beer. Ernesto didn’t reply to this, instead he just turned away from them, resting his head on his hands.
“Now, don’t get all mopy on us, we’re just messing with you,” Ronaldo reassured him, stretching his hand out to grab more fries before Lucy smacked his hand away. “What?”
“Te estoy mirando, maldito.”
“Las pague yo.”
“Oof, busted.” Luis whistled. “So, what was this work thing you mentioned over group chat?” Luis asked, smirking at Ronaldo’s scolding. “Boss being a dick again?”
“Yeah.” Ronaldo sighed as he downed what was left of his beer and practically slammed the glass down on the table, causing Ernesto and himself to jump. “Shit. I didn’t break it right?” he asked in a panic, checking the bottom of the glass for any cracks. “But anyways. I keep getting all this work pushed on me, it’s like the guy expects me to do everything at all times.”
“Well, have you tried talking to your superiors about this?” Lucy queried, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
“It’s not that easy,” Ronaldo replied, narrowing his eyes at her. “I can’t leave them out to dry if they put their faith on me, especially since I’m the only one who still understands how the system works. I mean, I practically built it.”
“So?” Lucy argued. “The way I see it if you’re unhappy with your work you can either speak out, quit or swallow it up.”
“And you’re going to tell me you do that at your job?”
“Hell yeah. I’m like the best coder there anyway.” Lucy shrugged, leaning back on her chair. “Sure they’ll always act like some guy is better than me or whatever, but I’ve built up enough good will and even if I get fired or quit, the projects I have now will carry me through,” she added, waving her arms around before crossing them. “Life’s too short to spend it being someone’s lapdog.” She then stole a quick glance at Ernesto. “What about you? How’s freelancing coming along?”
“Oh uh…well, I’m finishing up a job right now…it’s been keeping me longer than I expected though,” Ernesto replied nervously. Lucy’d always been the best programmer of the group alongside Ronaldo. She was also good at seeing through people, which made it hard for Ernesto when she eventually turned her eyes on him.
“Well, are you sure you want to keep going with it? You can always look for another job, it doesn’t even have to be programming,” she pointed out, glancing down at his hands. “Cooking at a street restaurant isn’t going to take you anywhere but you can always try for bigger places.”
Ernesto stared at her for a moment, his eyes falling on his hands as well. It’s not that he only had programming, he was quite proud of his cooking skills, but he knew that the latter was a risky career that wouldn’t always be lucrative for him.
“You already know my answer to that.”
Lucy frowned, clearly wanting to say something but choosing to hold back instead. “Suit yourself.” she shrugged. “Anyways, I think we should leave it at here for tonight. Oh, don’t forget Retro Sunday, it’s your turn to bring the snacks, Ronaldo.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Ronaldo replied as he saw Luis get up.
“Well, gotta go. I have to finish the prototype for my game, I found this great build set, it pumps me up with how well it works."
“TMI.” Ernesto called out in disgust, noting how Lucy and Ronaldo were simply smirking at Luis’ comment.
“Aside from that. Amelia and I haven’t had time to hang out lately,” Luis stated as he stood up and sighed in disappointment. “So I’ll see ya.”
“Bye,” Ronaldo and Ernesto both replied as they stared at their friends’ retreating backs, their thoughts still stuck on their respective conversations with Lucy.
“I hate how she always psychoanalyzes people like that.” Ernesto scratched the back of his head, finishing what was left from his beer.
“Sad thing is, she’s usually right.” Ronaldo took a glance at Ernesto, noticing how uneasy he seemed as he clenched onto his glass. “Are you sure you’re happy?”
“…are you?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Then don’t make it about me!” Ernesto called out, glaring at his childhood friend before standing up.
Ronaldo stared at his retreating form for a moment. It seemed like he wanted to let the issue go, but he could tell by the fact that Ernesto still hadn’t left, and in fact seemed reluctant to leave, that they weren’t done yet.
“I’m twenty-three years old, I can face my own actions.” He finally added, his tone harsher.
“Can you though?”
Ernesto and Ronaldo stared at each other, the tension between them rising up until Ernesto started walking. “This ain’t like in college, I’m not just piggybacking off you and Lucy anymore.”
“All I’m saying is that you have to start facing your own consequences at some point.” At this point, Ronaldo chose to leave his own seat and follow after his friend. “If you’re not happy with your life then you shouldn’t take it out on u-“
“Callate ya, maldito!” Ernesto yelled out, making the other patrons at the bar jump up and turn towards them. Ronaldo’s face was struck for a moment, before being replaced with a frustrated expression as he walked ahead of Ernesto. Ernesto himself stood in shock. The realization of his actions dawned on him quickly and he turned towards his friend in embarrassment. “Ron, I’m s-“
“Save it. See you on Sunday.”
Ernesto gritted his teeth, fists clenched as Ronaldo walked out of the bar. He felt anger rise in him as he pondered on his friends’ words and his last statement. He swore he would never refer to his friends like that again, and yet he’d just done it with only a little pressure.
Couldn’t life be simpler?
***
That night, the moonlight shone brightly through Ernesto’s window, casting a shadow over his body. Though he was lying on his side and his breathing was steady, you could not be blamed from thinking he was dead. He’d been so exhausted from the fallout at the bar that he hadn’t even changed.
His outbursts were a common thing he had to deal with since he was a kid, whether it was learning to control them or suppress them. They always resurfaced at one point or another though, reminding him of just how much he needed to improve and of the person he didn’t want to end up like.
It was at those moments that he felt at his lowest, not because he couldn’t keep up his composure, but because he lashed out at those he cared for most.
He rolled around with a heavy sigh and stretched his arm as far as he could to grab his laptop from the desk. It took a bit more stretching than he thought- to the point where he almost ended up slipping on the bed by sliding too close to the edge- but he was eventually able to grab the device and hefted it onto his lap. “Might as well check some things before sleeping.”
As he opened up his laptop and started looking over his email account, Ernesto noticed something interesting. A notification appeared on the right side of his screen, with the word “Proposal” in the title. At first, he wondered if maybe it was someone looking for a freelancer, then he was confused when he realized that there was no preview text in the message.
His confusion grew even more once he realized that the email didn’t appear in his inbox. In fact, it didn’t appear in any of the boxes in his account, all except for one.
Ernesto’s eyes slid down the branches of inboxes before arriving at the one place he’d least expected the Spam box.
It was odd to him; you weren’t supposed to get notifications from emails in your Spam box after all. Regardless, once he realized where the email was he decided that it really wasn’t worth his time, it was probably another trash message sent by a bot. That is until he caught a glimpse of the actual preview.
“Do you want to have a Digimon?”
Digimon?
His eyes opened wide and his hands tensed up, images of destroyed buildings began floating in his head alongside a large dinosaur creature roaring into the sky. It threw its hands forward, body pushing against a giant Parrot. The eight of these bodies was so much that their clash sent shockwaves throughout the street and their amounted weight was enough to make a crater on the floor once they met concrete.
People ran all around him and he could hear his parents' voices telling him to follow. But he just couldn’t unglue his eyes from the scene in front of him, not necessarily out of fear, but curiosity.
“What kind of bullshit.” He snapped himself out of his trance quickly, realizing that he’d been clutching the mouse involuntarily. His heart was beating like crazy. Those memories, it’d been so long since he’d thought about that day but they felt so vivid to him.
Nevertheless, the experience left Ernesto feeling uneasy. Yet, there was something there, something urging him forward.
He slid the mouse over the email’s title. It wouldn’t hurt to take a look right? He could just delete it after confirming it was a scam.
One click.
In one click his screen turned completely white and his room became surrounded by a bright light. Ernesto jolted, inadvertently causing his laptop to fall on the floor. He slid to the back of his bed in shock as the light only grew brighter, lighting up the night outside of his window.
Slowly the light itched out of his screen, only for it to suddenly warp and fly out. Ernesto duck quickly, barely avoiding it. It was a sight out of a weird sci-fi movie, the light bouncing around every surface it could find like a pinball trying to find the goal. It didn’t seem like it was the result of physics though, its movements were premeditated. Was it searching for something?
Eventually, the strange light found its mark. It bounced off the wall one last time, careening straight towards Ernesto before hitting his phone.
The device became surrounded by a similar ray of light, a fact that made the whole situation dawn on the young man. “Crap, my phone!” he yelled in horror and immediately went to grab it.
That proved to be a bad play. Searing pain coursed through Ernesto’s hand the moment he clasped his hand on the phone, leading him to instinctively let go and grab his hand in an attempt to stave off the pain.
As if to make matters worse, smoke began to come out from the light-filled device.
Was it fried? Did his computer somehow fire magical light that could actually fry phones?
Thankfully he was wrong, but as the light subsided he could tell that his phone was no longer the same. The smartphone looked outwardly the same, but the black carcass that was scratched and all too familiar to Ernesto was now replaced with a bright, spotless, red shell, the screen was slim and smooth as if it had just been taken out of the box, the camera lens was bigger and slightly more pronounced as well and the main button had taken the form of what seemed like a dinosaur paw.
“What the hell…is going on?” Ernesto muttered, slowly stretching his hand once more. He could still feel heat wafting off from the phone, but he dared himself forward and latched onto it all the same, bringing it to his face.
The screen turned on the moment his hands made contact with it. Green letters were displayed on the screen.
“Welcome, Tamer. Your Digimon will arrive shortly.”
Digimon? Were those the creatures in his memories? It’d been so long since he’d seen them that he’d forgotten what they were called. Nevertheless, it all clicked once he saw the word, the evacuation drills and tragic news coverage all around the world. For a moment it was like the whole world was about to end.
Ernesto pulled himself out of his thoughts for a moment. His stomach raised. His eyes fell on the modified smartphone as he saw the home screen appear. He could still see the apps he’d downloaded onto his phone like before, but something was different. There were more.
At the bottom of the screen were four new application icons. One was a radar-like logo with a blue dinosaur-like symbol hanging behind the dial. Next to that was an app showcasing a fist on a red background with yellow sparks surrounding it.
“Digi Radar and Digi Modifier?” he muttered as he tapped the apps, their names in turn being displayed on a small black screen above the app.
The ones that really got him curious were the last two. On the far end of the screen was a grey-colored app. It featured a pair of rings inside one another with what looked like a star-shaped light in the center. Ernesto lowered his finger on it to find out its name but was surprised to see a message stating “App Disabled” appear instead.
He was about to direct his attention to the last app when a notification suddenly popped up on his phone.
“Digi Radar Notice: Your Digimon will arrive in ten minutes. Please direct yourself to the marked location immediately.”
“Huh?” Ernesto moved back as the phone screen was replaced by a large map of the city, showcasing multiple blue dots scattered throughout the area. However, what called Ernesto’s attention was the red dot pulsing only a few kilometres from where he was.
His mind raced. Was it true? Were Digimon real?
Well, he’d seen them, but all his life he’d only considered the idea as a myth or at most as an event swept away by history. But if they were real and if he could really get one, then what would that mean? What could he do with one?
He panted, short of breath all of a sudden. He had to tell someone, that was the right thing to do, and yet, he didn’t want to.
His hand rested against the bed before he pushed his body upward, grabbing onto his phone tightly and staring at the screen. “If Digimon are real and I can actually have one then maybe, maybe I could be more than who I am.” A smile began to slowly creep his face. “That’s right, this is my one shot!”
He wanted to believe in that possibility, however slim it was. That’s what he thought of as he ran down the stairs and out of the restaurant in the middle of the night, ignoring his own inhibitions about walking out so late at night.
Pushing the door to the restaurant open, Ernesto leapt to his bike parked at the front of the restaurant and drove off into the street, feet pedaling as fast and as hard as he could as the cold autumn wind threatened to blow him away.
Was it messed up? He didn’t know, all he knew was that for the first time in a long while he felt motivated. His lack of a job, his lack of a path and his uncertainty about his future all gone in the face of this one fading moment.
It felt wonderful.
He glanced down at his phone, still showing the map of the city as well as the distance and time remaining.
4 Minutes left.
He quickly slid around a corner and began riding down a sidewalk, barely managing to avoid a passing couple in the midst of it.
3 Minutes left.
He turned at a corner, almost skidding off the road and into the street but managing to leverage his weight against the bike, even briefly using the weight of his foot, to stop himself from falling off. He then pushed down on the other side and pedalled faster, using the momentum to regain his balance.
2 Minutes left.
He could see a construction site not too far from where he was. The red dot was pulsing louder and it was at a straight line. That was his goal.
1 Minute left.
Having made it into the construction site, he quickly slid to a halt, the bike’s wheels screeching against the asphalt. Throwing the bicycle aside, he held phone forward and ran to the centermost point of the construction, the place where the dot was.
Sweat ran down his forehead, lungs threatening to burst from his chest, yet the only thing in his mind was the expectation for what would happen. There was desperation in his eyes, expectations placed on the small mound of sand
Alas, with every passing second the inevitable outcome flashed in his head. Nothing was going to happen.
He stood there, looking at the mound of sand the map pointed at, lips curled in disappointment. He searched around frantically, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he’d missed something.
But there was nothing there. Only his broken expectations.
His mouth opened slightly upon realizing this. His legs wobbled a bit. He tried hard to regain his footing, but it was to no avail. It only took one step for his willpower to give out, for his legs to fall and land on the sand he’d been staring at with such hopes merely seconds ago.
At that moment he felt his world crash down on him again. Memories flashed back in front of his eyes. Memories of him standing alone in a park, of crying in his bed under the blanket, of breaking down in that bathroom stall at work, of standing in front of the one he loved as she gave him the news he’d been dreading for months.
Of his dad’s funeral.
His dad.
He heard a crack. He’d originally thought it was his heart shattering, only to realize that it would’ve been dramatic even for him.
No, there was a crack in the space right above the mound, a perfectly cut zigzag line. It snapped open, letting out a powerful current of air that made Ernesto crawl back on the ground. His eyes stood agape and his mouth hung open disbelief. He didn’t understand how, but he could make out what seemed to be 0s and 1s from inside the hole.
“Huh?” He muttered.
As if that wasn’t enough, a round object quickly fell from the hole, hitting the sand. The force from the fall caused it to spread out, forming a cloud of sand that surrounded Ernesto, who in turn didn’t take his eyes away from the object.
It was an egg. It was crimson and had a strange star pattern all around it, but it was an egg.
“Huh?” Ernesto gasped again as he heard a wooshing sound from above him as the crack swiftly closed.
The young man sat there for a moment, trying to let everything sink in.
“W-what the hell just happened!?” He finally yelled out, eyes darting towards the egg, which simply rested right on the spot it fell.
Was this a Digimon? Granted he didn’t actually know if Digimon came from eggs, but it was a far cry from what he was expecting.
Nevertheless, it was true. He didn’t have one right in front of him, sure, but everything that happened and the egg in front of him proved it.
Digimon were real.
A smile crossed his face. He crawled to the egg like a child ready to open a holiday present, moving his head to the side and scanning it with his eyes before shifting to the other side. “Well I don’t know what it is exactly.”
He stretched his hands out and grabbed the egg. It felt warm and heavier than he expected, so much that it almost slipped from his hands. “Still this is so...surreal,” he muttered. He’d spoken about wanting a new start but now that this happened all he could think about was where it came from.
Unfortunately, Ernesto didn’t have much time to dwell on his thoughts as he heard that familiar noise once again.
A crack, this time from the egg.
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