**Presently**Jaxi/Viku

Despite the clamor behind us, neither Piximon nor Terriermon nor the sum of us can exit the portal now that it has decided where to send us. we barely maintain our grip on Terriermon’s ear as we’re pulled into a vortex of nothingness. Piximon struggles in vain to return to check out the sound, likely holding out hope that it’s other Piximon allies and their rescuees.

Our consciousness is ripped from us amidst the teleportation effect. As we pass out, gripping our new friend close is all we can think to do. Our dreams are bleak, the entire Digital World blanketed in hungry shadows, versions of us at separate corners of the world, struggling in vain against the tide of darkness. Something says, “This is what will come to pass if you do not unite and grow stronger.”

We awaken, seemingly alone with our thoughts in a pitch-black cavern. The only sensation besides the stone beneath us is the sound of a droplet of water hitting a puddle nearby. The air is stagnant, not that we need oxygen in the normal real-worlder fashion, but it’s unpleasant with no breeze, no external air flow, no scents, no pressure. It’s almost as if where we’ve arrived exists solely to deprive us of most of our senses. Feeling about around us in wider and wider spirals, we do not come into contact with Terriermon.

Lack of our new friend’s presence disturbs us, so we call out, “Terrier? Are you alright? Are you nearby? Piximon? Are you as well?”

The sound of our voice is muffled, yet echoes loudly from a scant few paces away, despite the walls not being nearby. The acoustics are maddening, disorienting. We could perhaps light our way with chi, but it’s almost assuredly as disorienting to be able to see wherever we are as it is for sound to travel about in it.

Terriermon thankfully replies, “Over here pal! No sign of Pixi though!” Their voice comes from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

We struggle to meditate, to still our hearts and minds, to slow our anxious breathing. Focusing on our hearing, disorienting though it may be, we slowly become familiar with aspects of our location. It takes perhaps several hours, but we learn as we observe. We’re in a large subterranean cavern, or series of caverns. Near us is a raised sediment-pool, formed by the ever-dripping stalactite hanging directly above it. Terriermon shuffles about, worriedly searching for us. They are nearby, perhaps, but far through a series of winding tunnels.

We attempt a whisper, aimed to carefully bounce its way eventually towards Terriermon, “Loud sounds are disorienting, but we believe we can get to you. Hold tight friend. We’re on our way.”

We plod across the stony cavern floor towards a tunnel exit that immediately branches three ways. We know to take the left path, based on the echoes of Terriermon’s shuffling and worried pacing. As we grow accustomed to listening for the echo of each minor footfall, each scratch of claw, it becomes incredibly evident how bats must perceive the world. Where sound bounces to us, how strongly it bounces in return, and from what exact angle, tells us so much about our surroundings.

Over the several hours of meditating, and now searching for Terriermon, navigating by sound is becoming second-nature. We’re nearing a last turn that should lead to whatever hallway or cavern Terriermon has been pacing in.

Terriermon excitedly shouts, “Pal am I glad to see you—,“ then immediately regrets it, clasping their ears, shouting, “Loud sounds hurt!” They cringe at their own mistake, finally whispering, “Ow, loud sounds hurt.”

We strive not to laugh at their expense. Loud sounds do indeed hurt, especially when you’ve been focusing intently on navigating by sound. Or sounds are likely similarly painful when you have ears as proportionally large compared to your body as a Lopmon or Terriermon. We empathize with the pain caused by their foolish shouts as we rattle our own skull, shaking loose the pain and the ringing in our ears.

The absolutely faintest possible glow in Terriermon’s segment of tunnel dispels the pitch-black utter darkness. Only enough to vaguely see silhouettes when incredible close, but at least there’s some semblance of light. Despite the painful reunion, similarly to Terriermon’s exclamation, we are incredibly glad to see them. If this is where we’re supposed to be, then it feels like some sort of test.

Is it a test of navigation? Of survival skills? If the latter, we’ve somewhat cheated, bringing in a link to the digi-farm on the floating islands. I can sense that they’ve loaded a section of silo for us with a fair number of apples and meat chunks. There also happens to be some rope, and several tools that I wonder whether they’ve been abandoned and forgotten, or are intended for our use.

We may as well explore. With no signs of Piximon, they could have been teleported somewhere else entirely for all we know. We weren’t really given much guidance as to our possible destinies. *Click* What’s that sound?

We hiss, “Terriermon, down!” as we bowl over our new friend. A sharp object flies swiftly through where they’d just been standing. We take a moment to examine our surroundings while we lay prone and unmoving momentarily.

There are a number of uneven sections of roughly-hewn stone, but the particular one that Terriermon had just stepped on yields slightly upon contact. Some sort of pressure switch that’s disguised amidst the naturally rough terrain. How unpleasant. Still, if they all trigger simple projectiles, both Terriermon and we can keep such things at bay with our tornado abilities.

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As we’re drawing these conclusions, Terriermon advances, recklessly spinning and shouting, “Terrier Tornado!”

We hiss after them amidst the echoing din, “Terriermon, wait, if there’s anything other than darts-“

Terriermon calls back, “Momentai pal, momentai, it’s all under con-“ as Terriermon lands from a leap, their landing is accompanied by a click. The click is followed by a *Fwoosh* as flames leap to engulf our friend. While skipping away from the fire, barely avoiding being fully roasted, Terriermon exclaims, “Ow, hot, hot hot, hot foot, hot foot, nuts to that! Have some of this! Terrier Tornado!”

Terriermon makes the mistake of feeding the flames a burst of oxygen with their vortex, expanding the flowing flame with a sudden woosh. We cringe as we carefully make our way towards our recently-acquired friend, but are balked by a now tunnel-wide flame. We’re curious what would happen if we tried to send some of this fire through the dimensional gate to our storage unit in the silo at the farm. We’d rather not set their silo or farm on fire however, so we won’t be testing such a silly idea.

As we stand within inches of the roaring flame, our minds alight on a new possibility. Within ourselves lies a network of chi, we’d already known we could connect to elemental wind energy, but what’s more, there are definitely lines to fire as well. We have two abilities waiting for us to speak their names. Ghostflame Waltz, and Ghostflame Crescendo. The former granting us a flaming, ethereal body, and the latter causing that body to violently burst forth, back from the ethereal, sending flames exploding outward.

We speak its name, calling its power from within ourselves, “Ghostflame Waltz.”

Truly, it’s as if the universe serenades our minds with a pleasing cadence. As our form partially discorporates, replaced in part by flames, we are quite safe to walk through fire. We might even be able to pass through gates, grates, bars, and other solid objects with at least some amount of space between them. We casually join our friend Terriermon on the far side of the flames.

Terriermon looks dumbfounded while stating, “Well that’s just great for you pal, but what am I supposed to do the next time the floor decides to roast me for dinner?”

We cattily quip, “Momentai Terriermon, momentai. It’s all under control.”

Terriermon grumbles, “Well that’s a really irritating thing to say.”

We can’t help tittering momentarily, even Terriermon lets loose a giggle after a moment. We wonder if we would harm Terriermon now in an embrace while we are still ethereal flame. Terriermon appears to have the same curiosity as he reaches an ear towards us testingly.

Terrier scratches their head, “Well that’s just weird, you’re not even hot. What kinda fire isn’t even hot?”

Before we can tell Terriermon that many chemicals burn as low temperature flames, they guess, “I guess Ghostflame fires, huh. Hey partner, I didn’t notice it before, but you’re like the perfect size.”

Perfect size for what? Terriermon leaps onto our back and nestles between our wings. Well, that answers that. They wouldn’t have fit before our fin changed to wings. Testingly, we approach the roaring flame yet again. How much fuel does this trap have? Still, Terriermon scooches slightly away down our back as we stick our snout in the flames.

We ask, “Terriermon, do the flames pass up over us? Are they still hot above us?”

Terrier answers as he’s checking cautiously, “It, it doesn’t seem hot pal. You’re all kindsa weird for a Digi, you know that?”

We chuckle, “Yes, yes we are, and yes we do. Well, at least you’ll be mostly safe up there, as long as all the flames come from the floor.”

Realizing flames might come from the walls or ceiling, Terriermon gripes, “Oh heck.”

Still, if we honed our hearing over several hours of meditating, what could we do with sight now that we’re no longer in utter darkness? We edge away from the flames, and sit cautiously on ground we’ve already tread upon. Moments tick by, turning into minutes. Minutes drift by as we harmonize within ourselves, and with the world around us.

Before all too many minutes have passed, Terrier asks, “What’s the holdup pal?”

As we’re about to cattily quip their own favorite word in response, they add, “Don’t even say it.”

We chuckle, still focusing on meditating, truly viewing what is in front of us. We attempt to see, to deeply perceive, to gather all visual details available. After several hours, during which Terriermon was quite bored out of his mind, we finally have it. Sight that catches hints. We’ll need to further refine our sound navigation, and this hint-sight, but for now, they should serve us.

As we stand, keeping low to the ground, gazing steadily onwards, Terriermon resumes his position on our back, grumbling, “Finally. Didn’t think I could momentai another moment.”

The clues are faint, barely noticeable, indistinguishable if we’re moving quickly. Yet the clues are there if we take the time to perceive them. We know which areas of rough to avoid, at least to avoid triggering flamethrowers and dart launchers. If there are others, we may have to have seen them once first before realizing their clue, if it’s different than the faint, minuscule seams.

Terriermon asks, “Are you always going to be this quiet, or just when we’re in echoland?”

We struggle to find a single voice as we respond, “We’re, well, quite new to this. Journeying with a friend, as well as this body. It takes intense focus to understand what our body can do.”

Terrier scratches his forehead with an ear, “What’s this we stuff anyway pal?”

We see no harm in laying it out there, as we may be stuck together for quite a long time. We explain, “We were a Viximon, a human partner, and then neither, as the human partner perished. Somehow, before we, Viximon, faded, we caught our partner’s soul. It joined us. Now there is the human, the Digi, and the us.”

Terriermon’s eyes spin as their head lolls about. Terrier claims, “That’s a heck of a story, you sent my head spinning!”

Chuckling, we roll our eyes as we tease, “Momentai Terrier, momentai.”

Terriermon immediately comes to his senses as he quietly barks, “Hey! That’s my word.”

The many of us, Terrier included, laugh for a fair period as we continue to journey through darkened tunnels, being our own source of light. Though it twists and turns, there have been no offshoots that did not end in nearby dead ends. We do not even have to check since we verified our sound-navigation was correct in telling us about the first dead end. Further down into darkness we delve.