Jungle Diaries, Volume I: Culture Shock
By Ryan Griffin
Deep within another world, a large, dark, iron tower rose
above the landscape, disfiguring the pristine look of the jungle below.
While, thousands of miles away, the sudden presence of a dark tower would
be nothing special, here, the inhabitants here were scared, for they knew
nothing of what this meant.
Two creatures, however, did know what this meant.
One was inside the tower, another far away from it. And ironically,
both were thinking the same thing:
“Now is the time to act.”
Another world away, a tall, lanky, thirteen year old boy
was leaving an airplane, permanently. He had pale blonde hair and a
rounded face. His hazel eyes darted quickly over his surroundings beneath
their thick lenses. His able brain calculating the gravity of the situation
he was in.
His name was James McConnell. He was from Denver,
Colorado, and now was going to live in a foreign country, Brazil.
James calculated the situation and realized: it wasn’t
a big deal.
In fact, it was sort of an improvement.
In front of James stood his father, Bryan McConnell.
His father was a botanist, who prior had worked at a university in Colorado,
and now was hired for field research at the Goeldi institute in Belem.
Belem was a large port city on the mouth of the Amazon River.
For James, it was practically a dream come true.
He loved science, particularly zoology, and the Amazon rainforest was a gold
mine when it came to science. He had prior interned at a genetics lab,
and was called lucky by many of his colleagues on his move. In some
cases, it was the most respect he got, most marveled at the fact that a seventh
grader became an intern; many patronized him because of his age even though,
in his opinion, he knew more than several of the paid lab technicians.
Socially, it didn’t impact James at all. His classmates
ridiculed him, perhaps because he always read and never played outside.
Perhaps because he never even tried to make friends. Perhaps because
his eyes almost seemed to glow in the dark and that he once asked a teacher
to turn down the lights so he could see.
James sighed, he didn’t think about it, but life really
sucked back in the USA. Now, at least, he could get a new life.
He liked the warmer climate, at least.
James took his carryon, moved with his dad with the driver
marked “McConnell,” and they were off.
“So the store’s run by Native Americans?”
“Yup. One of the few families to live in modern
civilization. Their name was changed to Lopes a while back. They
have a daughter about your age.”
“Hm,” James was not very excited about that prospect.
As they entered the shop, James saw that it looked rather
antiquated. It wasn’t that the store or its supplies were decrepit;
more like it was a new store back when Brazil was first colonized.
The woman behind the counter was a Brazilian Native, likely in her late fifties.
“Ah, the McConnells. It’s a pleasure to finally
meet you,” she said with a smile, “I am U’yara Lopes.”
“Well met. I’m Bryan, this is my son James.”
She took a good look at James, and said, “You’re going
to be at home here.”
James blinked, he had no idea what that comment meant,
or what could possibly warrant it. The woman turned back to his father
without explaining the comment, or indeed acknowledging that she made it.
“Most of my family is out, gathering supplies, but my
granddaughter, Juana is here. Juana!” She called.
“Coming grandmother!” She came bounding down the stairs.
James got a good look at her. She had long, dark hair, deep brown skin,
a nice face, and eyes that reminded him of a dog’s, large, brown, and full
of innocence. She had a reasonable chest size, and was only about an
inch shorter than James. James came to the realization that she was
rather pretty.
“Ah, you must be James! I’ve been waiting to meet
you,” she replied in English.
James was shocked, “Err… likewise, Juana. Nice to
meet you.”
“Well,” Bryan said, “we’d better get our stuff to our
apartment.”
“I’ll show you there,” Juana chirped.
It didn’t take long for James to set up his room.
It was smaller than his old room, but still big enough. He had his
books, his videos, a laptop computer, a sizable collection of animal figurines,
and odd rocks, gems, fossils, pieces of fur, and other interesting things
he managed to collect over his short lifetime. James had no music,
and no need for a stereo, but his father cared nothing for movies, and relinquished
to him their sole TV. Both had huge collections of tomes, and in their
living room, in lieu of any electronic entertainment, was a library and their
most valuable treasure, a replica saber-tooth tiger skeleton given by a friend
of the family.
James was reading when he heard a knock on his door, followed
by Juana entering the room.
“Hello James,” she said, then paused, “I can’t speak English
too good, may I speak Portuguese.”
“Very well,” James responded in Portuguese, “It would
do me good to get immersed in the language. I took some classes, but
I doubt they’ll help much”
“It must be tough, coming into a foreign country.
I’d be scared.”
James blinked, “Well…I’ve always wanted to come here.
I wanted to see the rain forest.”
“Really! My family does lots of work in the rain
forest!”
“Yes?”
“Our store only carries sustainable products…products
that don’t harm the forest, like fruit. We have a very strong base
in tourism.”
James nodded, “What is school like?”
“It’s hard, but I’m sure that you’ll be fine. I
heard you’re really smart, so it won’t be a problem. Besides, American
schools are supposed to be the best, right?”
“…Right.”
Juana then asked, “Where’s your mother?”
James stiffened a bit, “Dead.”
Juana drew back in shock, “I’m sorry,”
James sighed, “It’s OK. She died when I was six.
I barely knew her. It really affected my dad, though. Before
he was given the offer to come here, he felt barely alive. I think
if it weren’t for me, he would’ve just given up completely. He felt
much better when given the offer to come here. I’m glad, he’s all the
family I’ve ever had. My mom has no one on her side of the family,
and my dad’s side…the less said about that, the better.”
“Sorry for bringing it up,” Juana paused a bit before asking another question,
“Do you miss your friends?”
James stared, “What friends?”
“Back in America. Do you miss them?”
James paused, “I really don’t have any friends.
I never talked to anyone. Most people didn’t like me for some reason…and
I just didn’t make friends.”
“Really?” Juana asked, her eyes brightening, “That’s great!”
James was a bit shocked at her response. “I mean…I really don’t have
any friends either. Not many people like me either…because of my race.”
She paused, “Does it bother you?”
“What?”
“That I’m a Native American?”
James looked incredulous, “Not at all.”
Juana was relieved, “Well, what I mean is, I really don’t
have any friends either, and since you’re here, all alone, I was wondering
if you’d be my friend.”
James was shocked at the idea. He’d never once been
asked to be someone’s friend. It was a whole new experience for him.
“I’d like that,” he smiled.
Juana smiled back, “Thank you.” She paused, “Nice
room.”
“Thanks, designed it myself…”
James and Juana became fast friends. Within a couple
of days, James became more familiar with Portuguese, and became more in tune
with the culture.
The day before school was to start, James’s father got
permission for the two of them to go on a small scale research expedition.
Juana’s father, who was a freelance researcher, was also to be on the expedition.
As James stared at the looming forest before him, he felt
true awe for the first time in his life. As he was driven up to the
huge canopy, he was already confronted by it, in the form of birds squawking
and shrieking, monkeys chattering, and giant swarms of butterflies.
James, when he was younger, always remembered playing in gardens, trying
to identify butterflies. He found it would be almost impossible to
do so here.
Juana looked on with similar, if not the same awe.
Despite going to the jungle occasionally, she still found herself dwarfed
by the giant trees.
For their part, the research team ignored the two children.
The team was simply recording a certain population of ant on a few particular
trees near the border of the forest. It was nothing major. James
and Juana were basically given free reign.
This is probably why, when it happened, the team was a
good enough distance away not to notice it.
It started with an earthquake. Now, earthquakes
rarely occur in Brazil, especially near the Eastern coast. After the
first tremors, the scientists were rather shocked.
James and Juana instinctively grabbed one another.
A blinding light glowed brilliantly in front of them, forcing them to close
their eyes. When the light subsided, the two were holding two glowing
balls of energy, which were coalescing into a physical form.
Unfortunately, before they could examine that form, the
earth swallowed them up.
“I say we kill it now and get it over with.”
“Don’t be so hasty. It might have something to tell
us. A messenger or a prophet, perhaps?”
“I don’t trust it.”
“You don’t trust anyone.”
“With good reason”
“What do you say?”
“I’d like to talk to it. We’ve heard stories from
the eastern continent about their species saving the area from overlords.”
“We’ve also heard stories about them being overlords.
Littering the area with towers of control. And did we not see a tower
of iron being erected, destroying the forest in the process? Better
to kill him and not waste time second-guessing his actions.
By this point, James had opened his eyes and immediately
wished he hadn’t. He groaned and tried to move.
“It’s moving!” a tall figure began to tense up.
“Quiet!” a small, pink figure chided
“Ah, my head!” James groaned, “…Where am I?”
“Ah, so you do speak our language!”
By now James took a good look around, and shocked him
worse than a sudden headache. There were four figures standing around
him, and only one of which looked even remotely human.
The latter was a two meters tall anthropoid fox, which
sported yellow fur and purple gloves. Its posture and its intense glare
told James that this was the creature that wanted him dead.
Another was a pink bird, about a meter tall, with an ankle
bracelet. Another of the same height looked like a cross between an
iguana and a small child, save for two flowers that were its hands.
The smallest was a white dog with a gold collar.
It couldn’t have reached James’s knee standing on its hind legs. Yet,
through its posture, its eyes, and the way the other creatures acted around
it, James could tell it was the leader.
“Good to see you up and about. I’ve heard the passage
into our world is physically painful, and was wondering if you were well,”
the dog said.
“And if you were well, perhaps we could remedy the situation,”
the fox bared its claws.
“Hush,” the dog admonished, and then turned to James,
“Forgive Renamon. He doesn’t trust anyone outside of our village.
Come to think of it, he doesn’t trust most of the village,” the dog chuckled
to himself.
James was pretty much silent throughout this dialogue.
He then asked, “Who, and what are you? And where am I? One minute,
I’m in the jungle, then there’s an earthquake and flashes and a ball of light
appears in my hand-”
He then realized that he was holding something in his
right hand. It was shaped somewhat like a walkie-talkie. It was
white, with bright orange side trims and buttons.
“What on earth is going on?” James never felt this clueless
in his entire life.
“I shall try to explain. You are a human, from Earth.
This is the Digital World, and we are Digimon. It stands for Digital
Monster;” the dog looked at him speculatively, “A human has never entered
our realm before.”
“Then how do you know about us?”
“Because our worlds are linked. You may be the first
human to arrive in this area of the Digital World, but others have been seen
to the far north, the far east, and the far west."
“Not the south?”
“We are almost as far south as the Digital World goes.”
“So you’re all Digimon. You look like different
species, though.”
“There are hundreds of types of Digimon, but we are all
one species. We tend to refer to each other by the name of our type.
I’m Plotmon.”
“Wait, was that Protomon or Plotmon? I didn’t quite
catch that.”
“Our type’s name should be Protomon, but was pronounced
wrong by early Digimon, so our name became Plotmon. This,” he motioned
to the bird, “is Piyomon. This,” he indicated the flower/lizard, “is
Floramon. And he,” the fox, “is Renamon.”
“Nice to meet you, I am James McConnell. You can
call me James. And I kindly ask,” he addressed Renamon, “that you not
disembowel me.”
“How about if I slit your throat?”
“Peace, Renamon. Tell me, how did you come here
from your world?”
“Well, I was in a jungle in our world, when suddenly,
there was this earthquake, and a flash of light, and Juana and I…oh, no!
Juana! Where is she?” James became frantic.
“We sent another team to investigate the second crash,
where your friend most likely is,” Plotmon said.
James relaxed, when he finally realized what the device
in his hand was. It was that ball of glowing light he grabbed before
becoming sucked into the vortex.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
“A Digivice!” Plotmon said in awe, “So I was right!
You are a Chosen Child!”
Renamon relaxed his posture, but his claws still twitched
in anticipation, “Being a Chosen doesn’t make him a saint. The Kaizer
was a Chosen Child.”
Plotmon looked at James with a bit more scrutiny, “I wonder…”
the dog approached James, “May I touch it?”
James considered, “Sure, I don’t see why not,” He brought
his hand forward, with the Digivice in it. When Plotmon’s paw touched
it, it burst in white light.
James balked, “What does this mean?”
Plotmon’s eyes shined like they never had before, “It
means you’re my partner! I knew it. I’ve waited my whole life
for my partner, and now, here you are!”
“Partner?” But even as he asked, he knew in his heart
that the creature before him was linked to him somehow, that somehow a piece
of him had been lost, and now was found in this creature.
“Come, I will take you to our village!” Plotmon ran off.
Floramon and Piyomon followed. Renamon and James looked at each other,
and walked side by side, neither wanting to turn their back on the other.
And now, James took a good look at the world he landed
in. It was surrounded by trees the size of skyscrapers. The smaller
trees of this world reminded him of the larger trees he saw in the Amazon.
James never thought he could feel smaller after seeing the Amazon for the
first time, but now, he felt completely dwarfed.
Creatures beyond his imagination rested in those giant trees. A huge
flaming bird passed overhead. Dragonflies the size of a man buzzed
by. A giant spider web hung between two trees, with a spider that could’ve
eaten a minivan. James had to move out of the way of a tank-sized metal
beetle that blared through the woods, not even noticing him.
Upon entering the rainforest, James commented that there
were “killer bugs,” referring to the huge number of mosquitoes and similar
insects. Here, “killer bugs” took on a completely different meaning.
“We’re here!” Plotmon yelled when he reached the tallest
tree they had come across yet. He pressed his paw on the tree, and
a door appeared in the tree. The Digimon entered, and James followed.
When they were all in, the door closed, and they lurched forward. James
boggled. The tree had an elevator in it!
“How does this work? This is incredible!” James
asked.
Three of the four Digimon in the elevator tensed and Renamon
simply said, “Don’t ask, unless you want your ear talked off.”
James looked at him oddly.
Plotmon looked up and said, “Well currently we are in
a modified transport cell of the tree, to make it short,” sending a miffed
look at Renamon.
“Ah, so we are actually in a modified xylem of the plant!
Incredible! But, the doors closing, how does that work?”
“Well…” and the two became engrossed in a discussion.
The remaining three Digimon tuned the lecture out completely, and Renamon
let his guard down. It was obvious this human was indeed Plotmon’s
partner.
They stopped on a platform on several of the tree’s major
branches. The platform was about as wide as a park and was split into
layers, separating merchants from residencies from what appeared to be government-like
facilities.
As the group left what James and Plotmon dubbed a “xylevator,”
they split up. Only Plotmon and James remained together.
“The second group should be here with your friend,” Plotmon
said.
James looked at him, “What exactly is your role here.
It’s obvious this is a village.”
“Digimon don’t usually group into large communities like
this one. But this area of the Digital World is a tough one.
More dangerous than many others. So Digimon at weaker levels join here
to be protected from larger forces. I’m currently the apprentice shaman.”
“This really is an incredible society!” He said as he
looked around, “There are so many species that get along with one another.”
“Again, groupings like this are very rare. And you
define get along too loosely. Digimon of similar types and species
tend to congregate with one another and stereotype against others, sometimes
dismissing others as below them or dangerous, like Renamon. I’ve heard
Earth is more advanced technologically than Digiworld, so I guess that our
problems don’t really exist.”
“Actually, the same ones exist, but for much more idiotic
reasons. Hey, another xylevator is opening!”
Another group of Digimon appeared. This group also
dispersed when the doors opened leaving behind a tan-skinned female human
and a two foot long golden armadillo-like creature.
“James!” Juana said brightly, “I was getting worried about
you!”
The two Digimon seemed to know each other, and greeted
by touching ears.
“Same here. Your clothes are different!”
“So are yours.”
Indeed, James had changed from a white shirt and denim
shorts to long khaki pants, a khaki vest, and a blue long-sleeved shirt with
a picture of the Earth and the words “Fragile: Handle with Care,” printed
in English and Portuguese. And what appeared to be a whip was attached
to his belt. Juana’s clothes had changed into a buckskin jumpsuit,
which looked more North American than Brazilian. She carried a bow
and quiver of arrows.
“This world is very strange, and interesting. Juana,
you should meet Plotmon. Turns out he’s bonded to me!”
“So is Armadimon,” she referred to the armadillo-creature,
“She was very nice when she found me.”
“Ah,” Armadimon looked up, “You must be James. Glad
to meet you,” she stuck out her ear, like a hand shake. Not wanting
to look rude. James got on all fours and touched ears. Juana did the
same with Plotmon, albeit more reluctantly.
“So I assume you have one to?” James asked, holding his
Digivice up. Juana responded by holding up a similar device, brown
where James’s was orange.
“Armadimon called this a Digivice. What does that
mean? Why are we here? And when can we get back?”
“I believe I can answer that,” another voice said.
A figure that looked like a fictional wizard carrying a staff approached.
“Honorable Wizarmon,” Plotmon and Armadimon chorused,
and bowed, which is hard to describe for quadruped beings.
“I always knew that my two apprentices were Chosen Digimon.
You humans were sent here because an evil has infected our world and you
two, with the help of your Digimon, must stop it.”
James balked, “You mean we’ve been sucked into your dimension
to become superheroes?”
“Well, yes, you could put it that way. Trees have
been chopped down, and an iron tower rests in its place. I do not know
what lies in there.”
“Honorable Shaman, I thought you knew everything!” Plotmon
gasped.
“I know very little, young one, but I understand much.
I understand that the appearance of the tower and you Chosen is no coincidence,
that you must-” He stopped, “There is trouble!”
At that moment a mob of Digimon scattered from an area,
chased by a large, humanoid Digimon. It was a three meters tall ogre
creature with brown skin, shaggy white hair, long sharp teeth, and a leopard
skin loincloth. It carried a huge wooden bone club. It was currently
wreaking havoc on the village.
“That’s a Fuugamon!” Plotmon called out. “An adult
level Digimon. Very powerful and dangerous.”
“Something is dreadfully wrong! There are no Fuugamon
in the surrounding area!” Armadimon yelled.
“Then, we have no choice but to stop it,” Wizarmon said,
with an eerie calm, “Magical Game!”
He raised his staff, and struck the ogre with a streak
of blue lightning; the creature stumbled back, but did not look seriously
hurt.
Plotmon took the opening, “Puppy Howling!” He let
out a screeching howl that nearly made James and Juana’s ears bleed.
Fuugamon roared in pain.
Armadimon continued the assault, “Rolling Stone!”
She curled up into a ball, and then rolled at top speeds into Fuugamon, knocking
the ogre off his feet.
“Thunder Cloud!” Wizarmon formed a ball of lightning
in his hand and tossed it at Fuugamon’s head. He roared in pain, and
then went still.
Plotmon edged closer to inspect the damage, when James
yelled, “Get away, he could still be conscious!”
The Irony Gods heard James, for at that instant, the brown
ogre jumped to his feet and yelled, “Evil Hurricane!” and held out
his fist towards the trio of Digimon. A blast of wind blew them all
back.
Plotmon leaped forward and yelled, “Petite Punch!”
and socked the ogre right in the face. It had absolutely no effect.
“Heavy Stick!” Fuugamon smacked the dog with his
club. Plotmon careened off the branch and fell into infinity.
James had a less than intelligent moment and jumped off
the edge to catch Plotmon. Luckily, he caught the puppy Digimon.
Not so luckily, he, too, began to fall.
In a stroke of luck, the pair fell into a tangled web
of vines about a hundred feet under the tree. James briefly wondered
how, in the name of physics, he could’ve fallen into the vines without so
much as a broken limb, but the wondering was cut short by the fact that Fuugamon
had jumped from the branch to attack the pair.
James barely scrambled away from an Evil Hurricane attack
and stumbled to the up most vines in the web. It broke off, and James
had about five picoseconds to grab onto the vine before becoming a human
pancake on the forest floor. He did, and swung through midair, screaming
like a ninny all the while.
“James!” Juana moved to jump after him, but Wizarmon held
her back.
“Leave him. He knows what he’s doing and where he’s
going.”
Juana took a second look at James, and had a hard time
believing that he knew what he was doing.
Indeed, if you asked James if he knew what he was doing
at that moment, he would respond, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” which, roughly
translated from deathly scream, means “No.”
Although, after the vine had completed its swing, James
realized there was another vine. He grabbed it, let go of his current
vine, and swung on the new vine.
James soon began to become familiar with the situation.
While he was indeed mortified by swinging from a creeper vine some seventy
stories above ground, a part of his brain seemed to feel comfortable.
Brachiating! James thought, It’s some
part of my brain that instinctively remembers how my tree swinging ancestors
lived and feels comfortable in this situation.
James had little time to ponder this quandary, however,
as he had to direct the vine towards another vine.
Throughout all this, Plotmon was clinging for dear life
to James’s arm, and now said, “There’s a light to the left!”
James turned. Indeed, a bright yellow point of light
was glowing from his left. And, as he turned the other way, Fuugamon
was jumping branches and was rapidly gaining on them.
James grabbed another vine and flew towards the light.
Boy, this sure isn’t what I expected when I came to
Brazil. I knew I was in for some surprises, but nothing like this.
James thought, almost bitterly.
Surprisingly, his subconscious responded, And what
did you expect, James?
He chose to respond in turn, Well, I’m not sure.
All of this seems both completely shocking, and yet, surprisingly familiar.
Like the vines. It feels like…
Like you’ve gone home?
James nearly blinked in shock, Yes. But I feel…like
I know nothing. Like everything I did know is a lie, and now I have
to learn everything all over again.
The voice in his subconscious answered, Well then,
James, are you ready to learn? To use your mind the way it was trained
from birth, to look at the world with a scientific view?
James seemed shocked, but responded the only way he could,
Yes, yes I am.
He felt a smile come from the voice, Good. You
have earned the Digimental of Knowledge, James McConnell. Use it with
the wisdom I know you have.
The yellow light in the distance became brighter, and
suddenly, James and Plotmon were flying towards it, not on a vine, but in
a ray of light.
“James, that’s a Digimental! With it, I can evolve
into a more powerful Digimon and defeat Fuugamon!”
James nodded, “Then let’s end that walking natural disaster!”
They reached the source of light. It was a small
egg shaped structure in a hollowed out tree, about the size of James’s palm,
yellow except for strange purple markings.
He landed in the tree, and the Digimental flew to James’s
hand.
“Say ‘Digimental up,’ James, and I’ll evolve.”
He nodded, “Digimental, UP!”
“Plotmon, armor evolve!” Plotmon was spun around,
and the Digimental spun in unison. The two combined, and the puppy
was surrounded by a yellow pollen mist. The mist coalesced into a swarm
of butterflies, before breaking away. The creature in Plotmon’s place
was a meter tall. It was vaguely humanoid, covered in golden armor.
Its hands were three pronged talons; two wispy earlike antennae came from
his head, as well as a curled golden spiral, reminiscent of a butterfly’s
tongue.
But the overwhelming feature of the creature was its giant
white butterfly wings. They kept the Digimon afloat in the air indefinitely,
and they were so large that their wingspan could’ve covered Fuugamon.
The Digimon landed and announced its name…
“The sweetness of science, Butterflymon!”
Fuugamon chose that moment to jump onto a branch of the
tree that James and Butterflymon.
“Evil Hurricane!” another blast of wind flew towards
the insectoid Digimon, who simply batted his wings and fluttered away.
Fuugamon howled in fury, and punched a few more Evil Hurricanes,
which Butterflymon dodged easily, making his opponent grow angrier by the
minute. The ogre jumped up to smash the butterfly with his club, and
he effortlessly flew away. The ogre landed unsteadily on a branch and
leapt towards a new, easier target: James.
Fortunately, as an Evil Hurricane was about to knock him
off the branch, Butterflymon swooped in and grabbed his human partner.
James could only stare, dumbfounded, as his Digimon carried
him through the air effortlessly. He looked down on the ground again,
but without the fear he had when swinging on the vine. He felt the
strong muscles of Butterflymon’s arms and the powerful beat of his wings,
and it felt as if they were his own wings, that he himself was flying.
The moment was cut short by a powerful blast of wind that nearly blew the
pair out of the sky.
Butterflymon steered to the platform where Juana, Armadimon,
and Wizarmon were standing. He deposited James on the platform.
Butterflymon’s deep green eyes winked, “I wouldn’t want
my partner to get hurt. Sweet Thistle!”
He opened his right talon, and a yellow pollen haze coalesced
around it, turning into what looked like a wheat stalk, made completely out
of sugar. It looked about as threatening as a Pixie stick.
Yet, as Fuugamon pounced down on Butterflymon, brandishing
his thick wooden club, the thistle knocked the club aside and threw the ogre
aide. He landed on the platform.
Quickly regaining his composure, the ogre roared and beat
his chest.
Butterflymon chuckled, “You should really calm down!
Sweet Pheromone!”
He flapped his wings at high speeds, letting off a sweet
smelling yellow haze. It enveloped Fuugamon, who stopped roaring, and
began to look dazed and confused.
“What is that?” James asked.
“My Sweet Pheromone attack puts enemies into a mental
haze, similar to opium in its chemical makeup. It lasts long enough
for me to do this!” With that, the armored butterfly grabbed Fuugamon by
his shoulders and tossed him into the tree’s trunk.
Fuugamon hit the trunk with a “thunk” and momentarily
coughed up a piece of circuitry. With that, he shimmered, and shrunk
into a small brown goblin.
“Wait, I know that Digimon! It’s Shamamon!” Armadimon
exclaimed, “He’s a child Digimon that lives in the sector near my home!”
Wizarmon hovered over to the piece of circuitry that Fuugamon
expelled, then turned to Shamamon and produced a vial, “Drink this.”
“Thank you, Honorable Wizarmon,” Shamamon drank the potion
and handed back the vial. He began to look much better.
Butterflymon fluttered over to the goblin, “What happened
to you? Why did you evolve?”
The goblin shrank in fear, “Who are you?”
Wizarmon beckoned James over, “This is Plotmon.
With the help of his human partner, James, he armor evolved into Butterflymon.”
The goblin’s eyes became starstruck, “A human! I
can’t believe it! In my lifetime, I was able to meet a Chosen Child!
All this time, I was friends with a Chosen Digimon! I feel honored!”
James felt rather embarrassed, “Well, I wish we had met
under different circumstances.”
Shamamon instantly became worried, “Why? What did
I do wrong? Have I offended you?”
“You don’t remember? You were a Fuugamon.
You were just trying to kill us,” Butterflymon said.
Shamamon became really worried, “I can’t remember!
I was eating when something flew towards me and rammed itself into my throat.
I was choking, then I felt my body go limp, then I woke up here.”
Wizarmon held out the device, “You expelled this.”
Shamamon nodded, “That’s about the right size.”
Wizarmon paused, “This device must allow a Digimon to
evolve unnaturally, causing them to go feral in the process. I will
need to study this more. James, Butterflymon, I thank you.”
Before James could respond, Butterflymon grabbed him and
danced around, “I evolved, I evolved, I evolved, yay!”
He promptly devolved into Plotmon and stared up with James
in rapt awe. A yellow light streaked from the puppy and was placed
in James’s vest, transforming into a D-Terminal.
“Thank you,” the dog said.
James laughed, “I’m not even sure how it happened.”
“The Digimental chose you,” Wizarmon stated, “It chose
you because you activated the trait it is associated with, Knowledge.
It chose you to use its power, to fight this.”
He placed the circuitry in James’s hand.
“It is clear that the tower and this device are related,
that some great evil looms over our land. And you two were chosen to
fight it.”
Juana looked at it, “It’s almost like our world.
The natural beauty of the forest is being threatened by technology.
I will fight this evil. I will save your forest.”
Armadimon nudged Juana’s leg, “Our partnership signifies
the connection between our two worlds. If you save our forest, perhaps
you will save yours.”
James looked at his watch, “I will join in the fight,
but what about our world? We have lives there, are we going to abandon
them to save your world.”
Juana paled, “My dad must be going crazy!”
Wizarmon nodded, “I have a way for you to return to your
world. Come.”
They walked to a small hut. Upon entering, it was
obvious the hut was much larger on the inside than the outside. Wizarmon
led them to a room, and pulled back a curtain, revealing a thick blue pool.
“This is the portal to your world. It appeared here
yesterday, heralding your arrival.”
With that, James and Juana realized their partners had
vanished. They soon returned, carrying sacks filled with their few
possessions.
Plotmon yipped happily, “Well, no time to waste!
Let’s go!”
James looked confused, “You’re coming with us?”
Juana shook her head, “We can’t let you do that.
You have lives here; we can’t take that away from you.”
Armadimon shook her head in response, “Our lives are to
be your partners. We are linked to you by soul itself. We are
meant to be with you.
“Well, then,” James picked up Plotmon, placed him on his
shoulder, and held on to his bag, “I can’t wait for you to meet my dad.”
Armadimon looked up at Juana, “Can I ride on your shoulder?”
Juana shook her head, “Not unless I want a broken spine.”
Wizarmon beckoned the foursome to the portal, “Hold out
your D-3s. It should take you back to the place you were taken from.
You should be able to open the portal from any computer.”
They nodded. The two humans brought forth their
Digivices, and the two pairs of human and Digimon were absorbed into the
blue light.
Getting home from the Digital World was a weird experience.
How we managed to hide Plotmon and Armadimon and avoid interrogation from
a group of scientists, who are inherently curious anyway, is a mystery.
I guess they figured we passed out after the earthquake. They’d been
searching for us, and were just glad we were alive.
I couldn’t hide Plotmon from Dad, anyway. They’re
still talking now. Dad, of all people, knows not to reveal Plotmon’s
existence. I can trust him. On some level, I think he’s as excited
as I am about him. All scientists believe in extraterrestrial life,
and to my dad, meeting one was an incredible experience.
Well, it’s been an interesting day, to say the least.
I felt like a real hero today. Like if Indiana Jones
meets Star Wars. And the weirdest thing is that it feels normal, like
a right of passage.
I’m worried, though. Fuugamon was powerful.
If something could create that power, much less control it on some level,
it would have to have incredible power behind it.
And I’ll have to stand up to that power.
Fortunately, I have Juana by my side. That feels
good to know. She has a power behind her, I can feel it. There’s
probably a similar power behind me. The two of us were Chosen for a
reason.
Still, I have to take things one step at a time.
And the next step is school. I personally can’t wait.
I mean, my strong point has always been learning.
- From the Diary
of James McConnell
Author’s Notes:
First off, I own very little of this. Digimon and
its characters belong to Toei Inc., Bandai, and people who are generally
not me. The universe the story is set in belongs to Lord Archive.
James and Juana belong to me, as do the personalities of their partners.
If you want to use ‘em, fine. But give ‘em back. And telling
me would be nice.
It took me forever to get his story out. I first
had this in mind around late March. A few hard drive reformats and
cases of writer’s block later, here we are.
If any aspect of this story confuses you, good.
It will be explained later.
I don’t live in Brazil. If at any point I make any
reference to Brazilian life that is incorrect, please notify me, so that
I may correct it.
Have questions? Comments? Death threats?
Then review, or email me at griffinguy24@yahoo.com.