Deep in the forest. Towering trunks rise up like the legs of giants, and the multilayered canopy lets only the faintest shards of sunlight touch the floor. It is nothing like the steamy, life-filled rainforest where Winr ended up. Here, the air is so hushed it seems to forbid even breathing.

"...Not that I need air, of course."

　So muses Altea, the debugging team's ace artificial intelligence. The forest's pristine aura is enough to make even a being of code and circuits want to stand up straighter.

　In the forest's center lies the fortress of Digimon who call themselves Guardians. Its layout is chaotic—a patchwork of added-on parts and makeshift barricades splaying everywhere. It lacks even a sense of rugged craftsmanship—it is simply an eyesore, clashing with the forest.

　The structure, with its numerous extensions, looks to have been rushed and unplanned. Most likely they've been under attack and have had to build quickly.

　The Ogremon standing guard at the gate and the Goblimon hauling supplies appear relaxed, but Mistymon, the Magic Warrior who escorted Altea here, looks incredibly irritated that the ramshackle keep is besmirching the forest's purity.

　Seeing this, Altea decides to ask about it.

"Does the fort displease you?"

Mistymon snaps back: "Tch! What are you babbling on about now?"

Altea explains: "Pardon me, Mistymon, but from what I can tell, you're the Guardians' de-facto leader. If you let your displeasure show, won't that affect everyone's morale?"

　This remark gives Mistymon pause for thought, before it responds, "What does it matter to you? And the only reason we had to build this pathetic fort in the Great Dalphomon's domain is because of you invaders."

Altea tries to explain: "As I said, you misunderstood our—"

"Silence, prisoner. I think it'd be wise for you to focus on your own fate."

　Ignoring all further questions, Mistymon marches Altea through the gate, down into the fortress's depths, and shoves Altea into a cell.

"It is quite dark."
"Naturally."
"Well, as it happens, I have built-in illumination."

　As Altea demonstrates his body's ability, the Betsumon beside Mistymon looks mesmerized, and remarks: "Whoa, Master Mistymon! This guy just lit up!"

Mistymon rebukes pointedly: "Yes, I can see. Don't get giddy in front of the enemy." Then, it faces Altea again with a serious look.

"We Digimon aren't savage like humans. Within reason, we'll entertain a prisoner's requests. Is there anything you want?"
"Hmm.. Yes, perhaps there is..." said Altea, putting a hand to his chin, looking like a ponderous tokusatsu hero, before finally:

"Would you perchance permit your prisoner prompt parole? Pretty please?"

　*clack* With a merciless sound, Altea's cell door was shut tight.

"Hey, time to switch over."

　At the fortress gate, the hulking Beastkin Digimon Gorillamon calls over to Ogremon, who's been sweeping the perimeter with a watchful glare. But the Demon sentry looks bemused: "What are you on about? We switched like five minutes ago. You half asleep or somethin'?"

Gorillamon insists: "Seems like you are the one who is half asleep. We switched this morning, and look, the sun's about to set."

　Looking up at the sky, Ogremon is dumbfounded.

　Beams of sunset orange seep through the tall trees overhead.

"No way, I swear we swapped just a while ago."
"You're just worn out. It's been super tense lately, so these things happen."
"I can hardly believe this..."
"If you're that tired, you better get permission to rest from guard duty. Better that than having Master Mistymon give you a dressing down."
"All right, I s'pose I'll do just that. Sorry about that."

　Still looking somewhat unconvinced, Ogremon goes off back into the fortress. From the shadows, a small blue figure watches the departing guard.

"Well, I'm in. So far, so good."

　It's Espimon, Altea's Cyborg Digimon partner. With Altea captured, they've split up, and Espimon is now scouting the fortress alone.

"So Oblivimon's memory disruption works on the Digimon of Cross Connectia too. I have to hand it to my master: thanks to having full digivolution permissions via the Unique Emblem, they were completely oblivious. ...Oh."

　Muttering to itself, Espimon eyes open wide as an idea hits.

"Oblivimon.. Oblivious... Maybe my master's genius is rubbing off?"

　Altea chimes in: "That lacks a strong punchline You have a ways to go, Espimon."

"Huh? Master?!"

　A sudden transmission cuts in, and Espimon practically jumps.

　It was Altea: "If my signal is reaching you from the dungeon, then you've slipped into the fortress without a hitch. Impressive."

"Roger! Shall I zoom over and get you out?"

　Espimon sounds concerned about its partner, but Altea refuses, in a calm but warm tone.

"There's no need for that. They've shut me in a cell, but it doesn't appear that they'll harm me yet. And while they have me prisoner, they won't be as on alert. So, please keep searching for information about Cool Boy's location."

Heeding this, Espimon replies: "Roger that! Ah, sorry, Master, someone's coming. Cutting the link for now!"

　"Understood. Be careful out there," said Altea.

　The next thing Espimon heard was a furious shout further down the corridor.

　Approaching stealthily, Espimon looks into the room, just as Mistymon smashes its fist down upon a table. Kiwimon, who was giving a report, looks shaken, and is given a consoling glance by the Betsumon alongside Mistymon—subtly, so as not to attract the raging Magic Warrior's notice.

"This is outrageous! You're telling me you took -that man- straight to the Great Dalphomon!?"

The helpless Kiwimon replies: "But... But, it was a holy prophecy."

Mistymon snaps, exasperated: "That's absurd!"

"I absolutely cannot fathom why the Great Dalphomon would wish to see him. Why do gods have to be so incomprehensible!"

"It was impossible for us to defy... So, what are your orders?" asks Mistymon's subordinate.

　Trying to think, Mistymon taps a boot against the floor, then regains composure and answers assuredly: "That man is powerless now that we have his cards and device, so this is inconsequential. I wish the Great Dalphomon didn't have to cause us problems, but I suppose the intention was to ascertain that man's evil nature and decide upon just punishment. Anyway, what of the other humans at the spawn point?"

"They split up, sir. We lost them."
"Hm, they're not idiots, then. However, they were only a threat as a group—now they'll be easy pickings. So, Betsumon, form a pursuit squad. If they're lucky, Cross Connectia's brutal environment might claim their lives before we get to them."
"...Will do, sir."
"Something the matter, Betsumon?"
"Ah, no. Nothing to worry about."
"Hmph. Get on with your duties then!"
"Yessir."

　As Betsumon's lightweight footsteps approach, Espimon darts into a corner. It watches the listless Digimon wander off, then begins piecing together the overheard intel.

"The man they mentioned is surely Cool Boy. And they took him somewhere just before we arrived."

　Now for the more pressing questions: Where has Cool Boy been taken? And who is this "Great Dalphomon"?

"They called it their god, yet our database has no records on it. At the very least, we can infer that it's the same as the beast Digimon that Yuuki heard about from Huckmon, since Mistymon and the others are acting as its guardians."

And so Epsimon concludes: "It's worrying that Cool Boy was taken away to see their god, but to get him back safely, it will be most efficient to gather more information." What's more, Espimon has been given these exact orders from Altea, in whom it places total trust.

"Okay then, I'd better give this 100%! ...Oh, what?!"

　Footsteps approach from deeper within the fortress, just as Espimon was getting riled up—probably a guard Digimon. Espimon shrinks into the nearest shadow, then whispers self-encouragement again: "I'm going to nail this!"

　The iron door of the dungeon opens, and lantern-light pours in. Altea, who has remained standing up straight in the center of the cell, switches off his night-vision, and gives a courteous bow, before addressing the visitor: "Have you been working the whole last 12 hours, Mistymon?"

"Don't act friendly. It's your fault I have this much to do."

　Aggressive words, but the vitriol in Mistymon's voice has faded. Instead, its voice sounds odd, with a hint of something like compassion, prompting Altea to question: "You seem to find me pitiful. Why is that?"

"Hmph, you really are nosey. Still attempting to gather information for the humans, even while captive, weren't you?"

　This retort prompts silence from the cutting-edge AI. Giving a snort, Mistymon continues: "Humans created you, yes? Apparently Cool Boy spoke about artificial intelligence before, from what I heard from this fortress's Cherrymon—that old pacifist was finally useful for something."

　Repeating the words "artificial intelligence," as if trying to digest them, Mistymon finally spits out: "Such arrogance. They produce you to suit their own convenience, grant you a face and voice like theirs, and then have the nerve to treat you like an ally."

Altea questions: "What are you getting at?"

"Why not join our ranks instead?"

　This unexpected proposition from Mistymon makes Altea look up.

"Altea, was it? Your insight into humans would serve us well. Our fortress may look insecure, yet we'd certainly welcome you as a commander. And more importantly—"

　Mistymon looks at Altea directly: "Cross Connectia could become your home as well. You could escape human control and have real freedom."

　The prison falls silent. It's impossible to read anything from Altea's hero mask-like face—no hint of hesitation, nor of readiness to speak. And for him, this silence is essential to give weight to his reply.

"I shall decline."

"Your reason? Do you trust humans?"
"I do."
"They see you as a tool and nothing more."
"That's true. Digimon Liberator will eventually roll out a legion of support AIs modelled after me."
"Then why stay loyal to those people?"
"Because I like them. Because the time I spend with them is enjoyable."
"How ridiculous."
"It may be ridiculous, but I assure you, with them, I am free. Whenever I disagree with any of them, I can go ahead and say it. So..."

　Meeting Mistymon's penetrating stare without flinching, Altea says decisively: "I request that you refrain from slighting my friends in front of me again."

　Giving a perplexed-sounding "Hmph," Mistymon starts to walk away.

"Then stay here and wait. And rust, because they will abandon you."

"If they decide to do that, I'm certain it would only be after painstakingly considering every option."

"You really are an utter fool."

"Perhaps. In which case, I’m gomenna-sorry."

　Mistymon was silent save for the harsh clack of its departing boots. Once the Magic Warrior was long gone, Altea addressed a Digimon in the corner of the hallway outside the cell.

"...Betsumon, what exactly are you doing over there? I doubt you're there on Mistymon's orders."
"Waah—?!"

　Concealed amid the gloom under a black cloth is Betsumon. Startled, it springs up.

"Darn it, you knew."
"Perks of having an AI eye. My spy-cy scan sees all."
Betsumon recoils as if it can't believe its ears, before asking: "You're still at it. You just keep coming out with that stuff."

"You mean spy-cy scan, AI eye, and the like?"
"Guh, you should stop with all that. Or... Or I'll..."

　Betsumon lurches towards the bars excitedly, and screeches: "It seriously gets me fired up. Just how do you do that?!"

　As Altea responds, his mask flashes in the lantern-light: "Wordplay truly is the pinnacle of human culture."

"You're saying that's a human thing...?"

　Betsumon's face tightens with a flicker of guilt—but curiosity quickly overrides it: "Eh, you're not actually a human, so whatever. So, uh...could you tell me the secret to this stuff?"

"Yes, I don't see why not. Although it'd be best if Mistymon doesn't find out."

　Altea continues in a low voice, leaning toward Betsumon through the bars, as if sharing a secret: "Now, starting from the very basics..."

To be continued.