It struck Paul Manchester, by the third set of useless telephone booths he’d passed, that he should probably be more wary about things he seemed to recognize while here in this strange world.
“Your call will be forwarded to an automated sandwich press. The selection of lunch meat you have ordered is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, please apply the proper level of toppings and condiments according to the sandwich formula as illustrated in our corporate-approved employee handbook.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Paul took a wild guess and pressed ‘1’ for more options.
“Para Español, vierta dos cuartos de helado en el inodoro. 한국어로, 다음에 만나는 캣보이에게 키스 뽀뽀해 주세요-”
Paul hung up, letting out a frustrated groan into his arm without really meaning to. He wasn't getting much of anywhere with this.
He felt a tug on his shirt at his side, and glanced down to meet a pair of big, gray eyes looking up at him.
“Hey, Mr. Dad-Paul, do you have more quarters? We ran out from trying the other box things here.”
Paul's face soured, undecided on which of the two names he was more annoyed with Coronamon calling him.
“They’re called phone booths. And no, I'm all out of coins- there's no slots for cash on these, either,” he shook his head with a frustrated breath, turning down towards him to explain. “You're supposed to be able to contact a phone operator to help with your phone calls if you're having trouble, usually by dialing ‘0’ or sometimes ‘00’.”
He paused, glaring at the offending pay phone wasting both his time and his money. “These phone booths definitely aren't going to work, though, I don't think there's any more point in trying them. When I dialed for the operator, I was told I needed a valid forklift certification license in order to be patched through, of all things.”
Paul shut his eyes and sent a breath that could have very easily been a scream of frustration into the crook of his elbow.
The last thing he wanted to do was admit he'd had a license before, but had let it expire back in 2000 since he hadn't made any real use of it since his college days. Come on, how was he supposed to know he would have needed it for something like this?
“And don't call me that- I'm not your Dad.” Paul turned his offending eyes back to Coronamon, addressing him again. Really, there was a reason Paul vehemently didn't want any more than two kids, much to the displeasure of his ex-wife. “And really, you should know better- you're not supposed to call adults by their first names, unless you're friends with them and they say you can.”
“I'm not supposed to call you Paul?” Coronamon looked up at him, confused. “But doesn't Herissmon call you Paul? Why is she allowed to and I'm not? Isn't that your name?”
Paul had expected some backtalk to come from the rude little cub sooner or later, and he opened his mouth to snap out a response- before something struck him.
Coronamon didn't know the Rules, did he. No one had ever taught him- and he hadn't even been to school, either.
That… was a fair excuse to not know basic manners or the answers to simple questions, Paul supposed. No one had ever felt annoyed or insulted by Coronamon's behavior enough to tell him off or have him correct his behavior and follow the Rules before now- what were the odds?
“There's some Rules you have to follow when you're talking to people,” Paul explained, taking it upon himself to teach Coronamon what was going on so this wouldn't happen again in the future. “Since you're a kid and I'm an adult, you aren't really supposed to call me by my first name, since it would be disrespectful. You're going to have to show adults respect if you need help or want any respect from them back.”
Coronamon was quiet as Paul went on, so he was listening, but he still gave him a strange look.
“Wait, but if I can't call you Paul like Herissmon does, and I can't call you Dad like Asher does, then what am I supposed to call you?”
“Mr. Manchester.” The reply was automatic.
“Wh- where did THAT come from?” Coronamon balked, looking thoroughly bewildered. “I'm supposed to just… remember I have to call an adult I'm talking to Mr. Manchester, even when I know their name?”
“No- Manchester is my last name,” Paul corrected, annoyance creeping in again. “You respect adults by saying ‘Mr.’ or ‘Mrs.’, and then the last name, and then ‘sir' or ‘ma'am’ if you're being really respectful. Like for me, since you're a kid and I'm an adult and you want to get my attention, you'd say ‘Mr. Manchester, sir.’”
“Mister Manchester, sir. Mis-ter Man-ches-ter… sir,” Coronamon tried, feeling it out in his mouth- before making a face. “I dunno, it's kind of… long. You're saying I have to say all that if I'm talking to you, or need your help, every time? Why can't I have something short to call you instead, like Asher and Herissmon do?”
Paul opened his mouth for a few reasons- telling Coronamon that there were much longer and harder to pronounce last names that some people had, and that getting used to pronouncing and remembering people's last names was something he'd just have to get used to, so having to say ‘Manchester’ really wasn't all that bad and he shouldn't complain, among other things.
But he couldn't get any words out.
He gave a cough instead, swallowing the thickness in his throat before trying again.
“Well- hm.” Paul sighed in frustration, cutting off his floundering words before he could look foolish in front of the little spitfire he was supposed to be teaching.
“Well, it’s really just about the ‘giving respect’ part when you address adults, so you don’t have to say the whole thing,” He corrected himself, nodding along with his reasoning. “And ‘Manchester’ isn’t that long, there’s way more difficult names to say out there, just ask Asher. But for now, I’m changing my mind: you can say Paul- but only so long as you call me Mr. Paul instead, so you’re still showing respect like you’re supposed to.”
“Really?” Coronamon blinked up at him, surprised. “Yeah, wait, that’s way easier to say. Okay, so not Paul, but Mister Paul instead… alright, I can do that. Thanks, Mr. Paul!”
Paul watched the little cub as he dashed back down the line of inoperable phone booths towards Asher stepping out of another one, with Herissmon on all fours poking around the outside of which- thankfully seeming to behave. She perked up and sat up on her haunches as Coronamon skidded to a stop closer to them, jabbering away as the other two Paul was supposed to be responsible for listened on with rapt attention.
Paul rubbed the bridge between his nose, already feeling the headache coming on thinking about the damage he’d have to undo that the little troublemaker was doing to Asher and Herissmon.
Really, when had it started feeling like he’d brought three kids to the Digital World that he was supposed to be in charge of, instead of just one?
----------------------------------------
Soon enough, they returned to their impromptu hike through the unfamiliar terrain- as did Paul’s irritation for how ill-equipped they were to handle one.
First of all, a bit of warning for how much hiking they’d have to do would have been nice. He could have put on more comfortable clothes before setting out, or brought more gear or supplies they’d need, or- or any number of things he might have done that could contribute to the reasons why he liked to know about trips or big events like this ahead of time, instead of things like that being sprung on him out of nowhere. He didn’t like it back in his own world, and he didn't like it here.
Thankfully, Ogremon had set them up with some supplies after pointing them in the right direction, true to his word- though the Goblimons’ idea of ‘supplies’ mostly consisted of several legs of Digimeat mashed into a pair of hide-leather backpacks for them to carry around with them. Still, it was more prepared than Paul had been, getting thrown into the Digital World without warning the day before, so the efforts were appreciated.
But strange, different world or not, being out hiking in the wilderness meant there were Rules to follow, in order to stay safe.
Rules that Paul made sure to stop and explain to Coronamon and Herissmon in detail- since they hadn’t heard them before, and so the issue of them potentially not following the correct Rules wouldn’t come up later in the future. The regular safety guidelines for being outdoors in the wilds, of course: always use the Buddy system, stay where you are if you’re lost and wait for help to come find you, never start any fires in places you haven’t cleared five feet around the space, make sure to find a place to rest in the shade if you don’t feel well, drink water regularly even before you get thirsty, and so on.
A few of them he’d directed more pointedly towards Coronamon or Asher, feeling as though they were Rules they really needed to remember to always follow, given their recent behavior. He regrettably had to retract a couple, too- namely regarding what to do when encountering dangerous wildlife, especially when it was pointed out that Herissmon and potentially even Coronamon might know the kinds of Digimon living around here better than Paul did. He let it slide, but really did not appreciate the Backtalk.
Not that they seemed to be paying attention all that much, to Paul’s chagrin. Asher wasn’t listening much since he’d heard it before and already knew the Rules, but given how bad he seemed to be at actually putting them into practice and following them made it sure seem like he needed Paul to explain them to him again.
Coronamon was even worse, bumping shoulders with Asher and giggling at Paul’s expense multiple times, sometimes even interrupting Paul in the middle of explanations and asking questions upon questions that reeked of Backtalk. He’d even declared he’d always be Asher’s Buddy back when Paul had attempted to explain the Buddy system, and didn’t seem to care when Paul tried to correct that no, he couldn’t always be Asher’s buddy, it just needed to be Anyone available to go with him whenever the need came up- he just went right back to giggling together with Asher again. His bad influence on Asher was really, really getting on Paul’s nerves.
At least Herissmon seemed to be listening, staying quiet and attentive and leaning close when Paul was trying to explain things carefully to the three of them- how you were supposed to act when you wanted to show you cared about what someone had to say. Which was… nice.
It really did seem like she was making good on upholding her end of the Deal, and for that Paul was quite relieved. With any luck, the rest of their trip back home would be smooth sailing from here on out, now that Paul had ironed out the biggest concerns.
Just as smoothly, he thought to be likely, as the adjustment to the hotter, subtropical fieldlands environment Paul and his party had entered not twenty minutes ago.
He squinted and shielded his eyes with a hand to try and see farther across the expanse of tall grass, not that it seemed to help much. There didn’t seem to be any landmarks to speak of aside from the odd crooked tree here and there- and the sparse, unsettlingly rundown electrical towers standing high and bent at dangerous angles amidst the distant landscape, the cables they were meant to support left cut and dangling lifelessly.
Paul let his gaze only linger on them for a moment longer, before hurriedly forcing his attention back to the compass app on his compromised phone. He watched the digital compass needle spin erratically a few times one way, and then another few times back the other way, before clicking his phone locked with a huff of annoyance.
Maybe it was something about the electrical towers in the area mucking up the compass sensitivity… he’d just have to remember the direction Ogremon had pointed them until it started working again.
Surely he’d be able to keep track of whether or not they were all moving in a straight line heading the same direction they’d set out in… but before he could grumble to himself about how much harder for him the kids would make it, Asher spoke up somewhere in the line behind him.
“Hey Dad, can we take a break for lunch? Coronamon’s getting really hungry.”
Paul checked the clock on his phone- 11:17 in the AM.
“You can wait a little longer, it won’t be lunchtime until an hour or so.” Paul shook his head, squinting to try and peer further into the distance. “We can start looking for some shade around noon, and stop for lunch then once we find some,” he called back to answer, giving up his search for anything really notable in the near distance for the moment.
Asher nodded reluctantly, but he still looked troubled.
“Okay, but can we have a snack while we walk instead? I really think Coronamon should eat something, and soon,” he whined, clearly upset that he wasn’t getting his way. Paul felt a flare of annoyance in his chest- well, tough luck for him, Paul wasn’t going to budge on this. Unless someone was actually about to collapse from heat exhaustion or starvation, then they weren’t going to stop until he said they would… and from taking a quick glance back at Coronamon, he sure didn’t look like he was about to collapse from either of those things.
He seemed more surprised than anything, really- probably from Asher suddenly roping him into this, using him as an excuse so they could stop.
“Huh, I am pretty hungry, now that you mention it…” He wondered aloud, not realizing Asher had been just making it up for his own benefit. “I didn’t even notice before you did, how’d you know?” he asked, tilting his head quizzically.
Asher turned back to look at Coronamon, hiding his guilty face from Paul so he wouldn’t be caught in the act.
“Wait, you didn’t realize you were hungry? I thought I heard your stomach grumbling, just a second ago. That’s how you tell when you’re hungry, just so you know.”
“No, I knew that,” Coronamon hastily corrected, scratching his head behind his little leonine ears in confusion. “I was just wondering where you heard stomach growling from, because it wasn’t me. Though I am pretty hungry…”
There it was, Asher had been caught in the lie. Paul opened his mouth to tell him off, that people weren’t going to want to be his friends if he kept using them for his own agenda like that-
Rrrghrrrrrrrrrrr.
Right when Paul heard the deepest, most guttural growl he’d ever heard in his life.
He whirled around. Paul hadn’t had much experience with having close encounters with real dangerous wildlife, in truth- neither during the camping trips he’d gone on as a kid nor as an adult, and not even in the forest he used to play in behind his house when he was young, either. He rationally knew what to do when it came to dangerous forest animals and predators that he could run into- yet the closest he’d ever really gotten to one of them had always been on the other side of the zoo cage bars locking them in, or on the other side of the screen watching a nature documentary filmed and handled by professionals who really knew what they were doing.
But there was no safety of iron bars or glass screen protecting Paul now, keeping the massive, clawed beast locked away where it could never touch him.
No, this one was free. And it was creeping out from the cover of the fieldlands’ tall grass right towards him.
Even before the beast emerged into full view, Paul could feel the intense heat roiling off of the creature in waves. The scorching air from the monster’s mere approach blustered his hair and tie back with a hot gust, sending a flush of uncomfortable pink heat over Paul’s face with no anger of his own to fuel it.
And not for nothing, either. One massive, clawed paw stepped from out of the tall grass onto dry brush that immediately began to smoke and smolder underfoot, and then the other- revealing the huge beast’s pelt to be entirely ablaze with crackling orange flames.
Something feline- but resembling the much larger cats Paul might have expected hunting and stalking the subtropical savannas, rather than in his coworker’s household and kept as a pet. A long, fiery tail held eerily still crackled its flames harmlessly through the dry grass behind it, and tongues of fire from all around the thick, puffy mane behind its head licked the air just a bit higher as the beast stalked closer. A myriad of striking, purple stripes and markings marred the beast’s broad muzzle and the tips of its sharp ears, decorating its already frightening visage with something like… tiger stripes, or face paint, or battle scars. Paul couldn’t decide which of those would have been the most terrifying on that beastly predator’s face.
Herissmon, having taken the rear position in the line of their walking order, took the initiative to scramble backwards as the fiery beast prowled closer, holding her clawed arms out to her sides to scoot Coronamon and Asher backwards along with her. Her sharp, spiky fur puffed out in that ineffective intimidation tactic again, trying to scare off the larger predator in vain- it didn’t even break its slow, plodding stride, nor its sharp, olive green gaze.
It occurred to Paul, there, that being the one responsible for the younger ones here, it fell to him to handle the talking here before things took a turn for the worse.
Trying and failing to steel himself with a breath, he stepped forward past the cluster of Asher, Coronamon, and Herissmon, to the latter's sharp head turn in alarm as he walked past. He stopped once he'd reached a more appropriate speaking distance, trying to smooth over his nerves- Ogremon had looked scary, but Paul had managed to take control of the situation and talk things out once he'd apologized for Asher's wrongdoings. If this thing really was another Digimon, like Ogremon and the Goblimon, he could just do it again.
“Excuse us, hello,” Paul began, hoping his voice wouldn't give away how much effort he was putting into keeping his legs from shaking. “We're just on our way through crossing this area, so we'll be out of your hair soon, don't worry.” He waved off the concerns that the resident would most likely be wanting reassurance for, keeping his tone clear and casual. Non-demanding. “By the way, would you mind helping us out with something? I don't know how far away it is or if it's something you'd know, but if you could point us in the direction of Primer City-”
The large Beast interrupted Paul with another deep, low growl, locking eyes with the man despite his best efforts.
Paul was getting really uncomfortably familiar with the prey instinct flaring up in his chest, lately.
“I don't think that big panther Digimon's interested in talking,” Asher unhelpfully called out somewhere behind him. “Or wait, maybe it's a lion…”
“Well, if talking's not gonna work, then let's try fighting,” Coronamon piped up, to which Paul broke out of his frozen shock to grit his teeth at. “Come on, Asher, we can take ‘em working together!”
The Beast crept closer, eyes still trained on Paul, unblinking. He knew he had to get out of there, get away, but the Rule that you DON'T RUN FROM PREDATORS kept him rooted in place. If he moved, he'd be outrun. Dead. If he didn't move, he'd get pounced on. Dead.
No other way out, he was trapped. There was Coronamon's terrible suggestion, but it probably wouldn't work anyhow, and he didn't want to set a precedent for this kind of thing in the future.
The fiery Digimon padded forth one more step, a soft, anticipating growl building in its throat.
Paul swallowed.
Well, maybe it couldn't hurt to try.
The monster crouched just a bit lower, its fiery tail seeming to flick back and forth as it kept its haunches poised…
And leapt.
20%
The words burst from Paul’s mouth before he could think to protest.
“Needle-Point Dive!”
Herissmon was far faster than Paul could move, a spinning yellow blur in the corner of Paul’s vision while his gaze was locked on the fiery beast launching towards him in mid-pounce. His partner had leapt up to meet it at the apex of its arc through the air- not head on, but coming from its side, the force strong enough to knock the monster out of its trajectory and spare Paul a much needed breath. The heat of the creature’s pelt of fire felt searing as it careened past him, and he needed no further prompting to scramble backwards and out of the way once he had the chance.
The big cat picked itself back up, seeming more hurt in pride than any physical injury, and glowered back at Paul with a growl building in its throat. Herissmon had landed just behind him and hurriedly made her way to go stand in front of him- a hazard just waiting for Paul to trip over and hurt himself on her quills, to his brief chagrin and annoyed glare cast her way.
He’d almost forgotten he had creatures of his own willing to help protect them and keep them safe, though he wasn’t convinced the two he had could do much to a much bigger creature like this. Paul would rather cut his losses and book it if they could find some way to distract it and get out of there, leaving it behind too far to catch up.
But if it really seemed like they’d have to fight to make it out of this intact…
24%
“Asher, I want you staying back and far away where it can’t jump at you,” Paul called out quickly, keeping his tone level and forceful to brook no argument, which was something he really wanted to avoid here while they were in great danger. “Coronamon, if you think you can help, then you can come up here with us- so long as you don’t start any fires in the field of grass around us.”
Paul looked around to double check- yep, it’d be real bad news if the dry, yellow grass in the savannahs surrounding them caught alight. ‘Wildfire’ wouldn’t even begin to describe it.
He narrowed his eyes on the blazing, crackling fire of the larger predator’s pelt, and how it seemed to stand not catching fire to their extremely flammable surroundings. “Does anyone know what this thing is, anyway? How come it’s not burning everything around us- we’d be burned to a crisp by now if it did.”
“Oh, I think I know this one!” Coronamon piped up, seeming all fired up and excited for the chance to teach Asher it was okay to be dangerously close to terrifying predators. “What’d he call them again… right, I think this is Lynxmon! They’re a Beast type Digimon, and they live out in the jungle where it’s hot- or, well, they’re supposed to, anyhow.”
“I don’t know why this one’s out here in the Electric Fieldlands, but they can’t burn down the grass around us- they wouldn’t have a place to hide and stalk their prey otherwise,” he explained matter-of-factly, as if that alone were enough to justify the impossibility. He didn’t seem to notice Paul’s withering glare for his deeply unneeded nonsense, either, his flaming tail whipping back and forth in anticipation.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“I’m pretty sure they’re Champion level, but I also heard that they’ve got this Armor of fire protecting them too, which means they’ll be all the tougher and harder to take down,” Coronamon finished, oblivious to Paul’s skeptical expression and instead looking back towards Asher, pumping up an encouraging fist. “But don’t worry, we’ll give it our best, Asher! I know we can do it if we work together!”
Asher cheered, thankfully seeming to listen and stay far away from the threat at hand. “You GOT this, Coronamon! Go get ‘em!”
38%
Paul rolled his eyes, about to snap back to Asher that he wouldn't be there with Coronamon because he was supposed to be staying far away, but another guttural snarl from the Lynxmon in front of him kept his attention from straying.
Something he was very glad for, as it meant he had his eyes on the fiery beast when it shot across the clearing to charge at him.
“Wild Nail Rush!”
Paul dove out of the way with hardly a second to spare, as Lynxmon’s searing heat blistered past him and right through the spot he’d just been standing in. He landed hard on the ground, hissing through his teeth at the blow his elbows had taken to keep himself from eating dirt. How in the world were they supposed to fight a monster like this?
“If you guys would start helping out now, that would be really appreciated!” Paul spat out his frustration like a watermelon seed, craning his head to shoot an annoyed glance back at the Digimon supposed to be helping them. Would it kill them to pick up the pace, before Paul was fried to a crisp thanks to their carelessness? They needed to take this situation seriously already.
“Corona Flame!” Asher cried out from behind him, and Coronamon was quick to follow through, leaping around to Lynxmon’s other side with a gathering ball of fire at his forehead collected between his paws. Winding back both arms to throw, he hurled the flame as hard and wildly as he could- nearly overshooting and missing Lynxmon entirely, to Paul’s chagrin- but the blast managed to strike its waving, fiery tail by sheer luck.
…Not that it seemed to do much. The fire attack lit up with a flash as it made contact with the fire on Lynxmon’s tail, but it didn’t even leave a singe mark- at least, none that Paul could see. His face twisted in annoyance, resisting the urge to clap a hand to his head and groan in frustration. Why did the little stinker think that would work on a creature like this?
“Hey, don’t use a fire attack on an enemy made of fire next time, how about,” Paul berated, looking over to Coronamon with a glare. “You should know better, I told you how to put out a fire.”
“But it’s not fire, it’s a Digimon!” Coronamon protested, to the sneer of annoyance twisting across Paul’s face. Backtalk. “It must be that armor of fire Lynxmon has, I’m sure I’d be able to get it with my attacks otherwise!” The little spitfire hopped backwards out of Lynxmon’s reach, stumbling a bit as it turned its fiery head to level a glare at his much smaller form.
“Or, uh, maybe it’s just a lot stronger than I am, too, to shake off my attack like it was nothing…” He conceded, looking back up towards Lynxmon with a touch of finally rational uncertainty across his face, taking a step back.
Wrong move, it hit Coronamon too late. Lynxmon’s burning mane gave a flare as its eyes sharpened towards the little spitfire, before Paul could think to warn him against his misstep. The beast’s muzzle split into another near-silent, hungry snarl as it set its sights on Coronamon, and began padding towards its fearful new prey.
Paul hissed through his teeth in realization- he needed to get Lynxmon’s attention off Coronamon, and fast.
But there was no way he could find something to do and get over there to help in time, Paul knew, kicking himself for not thinking of doing so first and foremost. Thinking on his feet wasn’t Paul’s strong suit, he really preferred having the time to think things through and figure out exactly the right move to make next. Maybe if he got into the rhythm of things he’d be faring better, like if he were playing a board game…
36%
He looked to Herissmon quickly, all too aware he was taking too long to take his turn.
“Go- go stop it!” Paul tried to bark, gesticulating in the Lynxmon’s vague direction with an arm to emphasize. “Hurry!”
Herissmon scrambled to her paws, looking up to him with a bewildered expression and piercing, unnerving blue eyes- before looking back to where he wanted her to, thankfully getting the picture. She quickly scampered over the squashed fieldgrass towards Lynxmon to distract it, while Paul took the moment to look around the area for something he could use to deal with the monster hunting them. Nothing but tall grass and sticks and rocks here and there- what was he going to do here?
Paul caught a blur of white in the corner of his eye, and glanced back towards the monsters’ direction fast enough to watch Herissmon leap into the air. He grimaced, anticipating the feeling of something arcing through his mind and building up in his throat before it could even hit him.
“Lightning Quills!” He called out, the volume sounding a little odd without the particular emotion Paul usually laced within it.
It didn’t feel all too bad, actually, if he just had the chance to brace himself for it beforehand.
44%
The yellow in Herissmon’s mane lit up a blinding, crackling electric blue as she lurched her head downward, sending a volley of quills down towards Lynxmon to stop it in its tracks. Paul sucked in a breath, as many of the electric needles did in fact hit their target- before his heart dropped.
Lynxmon didn’t seem fazed by Herissmon’s attack either, simply shaking its head to dislodge most of the quills stuck into its fiery mane free, and giving a beastly snarl in response. Paul’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, immediately unnerved- not even the lightning attack could pierce its pelt? Was this monster really just that strong, or did it have some kind of armor he couldn’t see protecting it in the first place?
Just Paul’s luck, too, that the arc of Herissmon’s jump had her land just in front of Lynxmon’s flaming muzzle- where it sent her rolling away to the side with naught but a bat of one powerful paw. And with that problem out of the way, there was nothing keeping the huge, flaming beast from setting its sights back on Coronamon, unsheathing a set of enormous bone-white claws, and rushing towards him to close the distance at a frightening speed.
“Oh no, Coronamon, look out!” Asher cried, distracting Paul from the crucial planning he had to come up with to make it out of this altercation alright. “Corona Kn-”
“Wild Nail Claws!”
Coronamon had pounded his fists together to ignite them and prepare for a counterattack, but Lynxmon was too fast. With a roar, the mighty beast pounced and cut off Coronamon’s attempt at an attack, swiping at him with those enormous, hideous claws.
The monster knocked the little spitfire flying back with a horrible cry, sending an awful, unsettling shiver down Paul’s back. Asher let out a shout of panic himself, no less perturbed by the sight than Paul was. Before he could work out a solution of what to do, Lynxmon was moving again, dashing towards where Coronamon had landed roughly in the bent tallgrass, clamping its horrible, fiery jaws shut over the cub’s body.
49%
Paul braced himself for the sickening crunch that would surely follow… but it never came. Instead, the beast stood back up to its full height, and shook Coronamon in its jaws like a miserable, sodden stuffed animal, flinging him face first into the ground yet again like Paul’s younger brothers used to do before he learned his lesson and kept his own belongings to himself.
The sick, revolting realization dawned on Paul as he took in the brutal, careless behavior Lynxmon showed, before it turned to set its sights on Herissmon next. The monster was toying with them.
Eyes widening in ironic prey instinct, Herissmon didn’t have much time to scramble away before Lynxmon was already upon her. She ducked out of the way of one paw taking a swipe at her, but the other paw caught her by her mane of quills, the long, cruel claws digging into the earth underneath her and pinning her to the ground.
She was panicking. Her own ruby red claws slashed and scrabbled against the scorching leg trapping her in Lynxmon’s grasp, but they couldn’t find purchase on its pelt, rippling with orange flames.
49%
“Hey, cut it out!” Paul shouted, trying to put enough force in his voice to get the beast to stop, but it didn't pay him any mind. His voice didn't carry far enough in the open air, or maybe he was too far away- but how could he get closer to a monster like that? Paul was panicking at this point, too, tearing his eyes away to get back to taking stock of his surroundings again- looking for something, anything around that could help.
Something sat heavy in his pocket.
The curling, satisfied growl in Lynxmon's throat suddenly cut short into a disgruntled yelp, the paw pinning down Herissmon ripping away from her mane and hot-footing it away, its prey forgotten.
Paul wasn’t sure what he was seeing, watching the beast growl and snarl in startled confusion as it bucked and threw its body up and down and every other direction, until a flash of the wrong orange in Lynxmon’s fiery mane caught his eye. It was Coronamon, clinging tightly to Lynxmon’s back, hanging on for dear life and letting out a bouncing “WHOA-OA-OA-!” as the larger Digimon tried its hardest to throw him off.
A distraction. The thought thundered through Paul’s mind, and his head whipped around, trying to piece together a plan now that he had a moment to think. And think he did.
In the meantime, Coronamon was doing an impressive job of maintaining balance as Lynxmon jerked this way and that… right up until he wasn’t. The lynx realized just what was happening soon enough, slowing to a stop and standing very still to lure him into thinking it was safe.
The only warning the little cub on Lynxmon’s back had that something was about to happen was the low, nasty growl it gave- right before the flicking tongues of flame all along the beast’s great mane began to heat up and glow brighter, as one.
“Thermal Mane!”
Paul shielded his eyes from the explosion of searing white light, but there was no escape from singing the hairs on his bare forearms in the process. The fire thankfully cooled back down to yellow, but that only served to make Lynxmon look even more terrifying, a beastly silhouette against the raging plume of giant flames surrounding it.
“Oof-!” Paul jerked his head away from the frightening sight, spotting Coronamon sprawled across the ground uselessly a little ways away, his own fiery fur smoking from the impact. Lynxmon must have done… whatever that was to get him off, and that meant he had no more time to think. Come on, why couldn’t the cub have just hung on for a bit longer? This was life and death, Paul had thought he’d made it painfully clear!
“Oh no, Coronamon! Coronamon!” Paul’s attention snapped the other direction, alarmed at how close Asher sounded- and a brief fury shot through his veins. Asher was running closer to the danger like he was specifically told NOT to do, kicking rocks and debris on the ground left from the fiery attack as he dashed past the FLAMING Lynxmon. Disobeying.
53%
Openly drawing attention to himself as he fell to his knees over Coronamon’s form, what was he thinking!? The little cub wasn’t dying, Paul could hear Coronamon groaning back awake- he was fine, didn’t Asher see that?
“Are you okay? C’mon, Coronamon, stay with me, please…” Asher rolled the little spitfire over to be face up, helping him sit up where he’d landed.
65%
“Owww…” Coronamon complained, holding his head in one paw as the fire in his circlet gave a little sputter- a tongue of fire fizzling out of it as he took the moment to reorient himself. “Thanks, Asher, I got really knocked around… but why are you over here? Shouldn’t you be staying further away, where it’s safe? I can take care of anything trying to hurt us for you, I promise!”
As though it were emphasizing Coronamon’s point that he should have listened to Paul in the first place and stayed away, Lynxmon shook itself to recover from the huge attack and let out a fierce growl. Paul drew in a sharp breath, watching where the monster set its sights on its next target- Coronamon, the one who’d just annoyed it by riding around on its back.
And by proximity, Asher right next to him. Paul needed to act fast.
71%
“Yeah, but…” Asher trailed off, not seeming to care about the imminent danger just nearby. “I don’t want you to have to go fight by yourself! You got really hurt there, and we just- we just met. I don’t want you to have to go so soon…” He looked down, taking a paw in his hand.
The low growling grew louder.
Coronamon reached over with his other arm to take Asher’s hand, clasping it between both his paws and lifting them up between them.
“Asher, don’t worry- I’m not going anywhere, you can count on that.” Coronamon drew Asher’s gaze back upwards to meet his own expression, eyes shining. “I can protect you, Asher! I don’t mind getting hurt every now and then if it means keeping you safe, and that I’d get to stay right by your side.”
85%
The cub laughed- a bright, cheerful laugh that brought a smile to Asher’s face as easily as the sun breaking through the clouds of an overcast sky.
“And that’s the truth- I mean it, Asher! We’re friends, after all, aren’t we?”
Asher’s smile only grew, taking in a breath without meaning to as he broke out into a full, radiant grin.
94%
For a moment, Paul thought he saw an odd flash of yellow light in the corner of his vision-
RRRGHRRRRRRRRRRR.
But his attention was squarely arrested back towards the problem at hand, crouched down and ready to pounce, as it leapt into a dead sprint- right towards where Asher and Coronamon were sitting. Paul drew in a sharp breath. Now or never.
“ASHER, get OUT of there!”
Thankfully, the sharp voice Paul used for getting Asher’s attention worked like it usually did, and he snapped back to reality in time to catch the rightfully terrifying sight of Lynxmon dashing right towards him with fangs and claws bared.
Asher cried out and pulled Coronamon with him as he scrambled back on his rear over the tallgrass, whatever moment he’d been lost in having long since passed. Much to the gritting of Paul’s teeth, the two of them hadn’t moved early enough, so Lynxmon would surely have no trouble catching up to them and pouncing on its chosen prey with a running start. Closer and closer and-
Thunk.
The fiery monster hissed and jerked its maned head to the side in painful reflex, angrily favoring the left part of its face just under its furious olive green eye, as it forcefully craned its head to better catch where its first real wound had come from.
41%
Paul was breathing hard enough to hear himself, his arm still left stuck there at the end of its motion- after hurling the biggest rock he could find amidst the cleared debris, towards the only weak point he could think to aim for on a creature as well-protected as this. Its eyes.
Crazy new world or not, it remained a universal constant that most creatures out there would want to protect their eyes, right? A delicate organ that usually carried out one of the most important senses they’d need to survive and interact with the world around them, their ability to see what was in front of them. Humans weren’t exempt from this either, Paul knew- what else would be the first reaction of seeing something quickly flying towards someone’s face, if not raising up his hands to defend the eyes?
Paul may not have made his mark exactly, but he’d sure gotten close… enough to really cement him as a real threat to Lynxmon’s wellbeing.
Enough to piss a predator off once it had him in its sights.
45%
It was only then that Paul truly realized his mistake, as Lynxmon retrained its whole body to face Paul’s direction, its old choice of prey forgotten. The full weight of the predator’s furious, hateful gaze focused solely on Paul was crushing, and the few other pitiful rocks he’d managed to gather foolishly spilled from his arms and back onto the ground. What was he thinking, trying to pit himself against a monster the size of a tiger and with the ferocity of a bonfire? He was going to die here. Paul was going to DIE here.
His eyes flicked to Asher and Coronamon, left by the wayside in the wake of Lynxmon taking off right towards him. Coronamon was cowering with one arm held over Asher, while Asher was looking up in shock towards him instead. Why weren’t they moving, they were supposed to be getting out of there…
He felt a piercing, icy blue gaze coming from the opposite side, and he shifted his gaze in the precious few seconds he had left to spot Herissmon. Still tumbled on the ground, eyes widening and mouth opening to shout something, but too far away to do anything. Not fast enough to make it in time before the other monster would spell Paul’s end.
45%
Paul forced his eyes back to straight ahead, nearly face to face with Lynxmon as it closed in. Of course he wanted to move and dive out of the way before it got to him, save his own life, but he couldn’t move. Of course his legs wouldn’t work in such a crucial moment. Stick a fork in him, he was done. Of course. Of course.
45%
And then a blur of something landed in front of him, consuming nearly his whole field of vision.
“Lion Sword!”
Lynxmon had already leapt into the air and was flying towards him, fangs bared and claws extended, when the sudden figure in front of Paul interrupted the beast with a ferocious upward slash. The predator flew clear over Paul's head, the extra force and velocity having caught it by surprise, and Paul winced when it crashed to the ground behind him in an ungraceful, scrabbling heap of fiery mane and limbs.
Paul watched, unable to look away as Lynxmon struggled to its paws and shook itself, looking back up Paul's way with a hateful snarl. He drew in a sharp breath, startled back into motion- Paul had been given a brief moment of respite, but there still wasn't enough time for him to move. What could he do, predator bearing down on him, forced to leave Asher in the incapable hands of…
His thoughts trailed off as the figure from before entered into his vision again, striding around Paul with a measured pace and coming to a stop between him and Lynxmon.
It was hardly the first time it seemed to happen since he’d woken up the morning of the day before, but for a moment Paul couldn't quite believe his own eyes.
Before him stood a tall, mighty figure, his frame broad and rugged with thick musculature. He wore a pair of dark, worn pants with a heavy belt of dark leather around his waist… and no shirt, leaving his battle-scarred, burly back muscles on full display. All Paul could see of the man's head was the wide, wild mane of blond hair flared behind him- and the wrappings of a long, thin red scarf nestled around his shoulders and resting underneath his hair, with one long end left dangling down his powerful back.
Paul even almost thought he'd run into another human out here in this strange, dangerous world, come to his and Asher's aid in their hour of need… that is, until he spotted the long, tufted tail gently swaying from a hole in the back of the man's pants.
His other more beastly features were quick to come into sharp focus, shortly after- Paul could see heavy, bare paws with dark claws curling from their tips, and tufts of thick golden fur peeking out from underneath the ends of his pants. A pair of long, feline ears flicked from just past the edge of what Paul could see of his mane, and his clawed fists were enormous, gripping around the handle of a razor sharp blade just a bit tighter as he wordlessly faced the beast before him.
Lingering heat from Lynxmon's scorching aura on his face or not, it was clear even to Paul looking at the man who'd saved him.
Human, he was not.
Lynxmon narrowed its eyes as its attention lifted off Paul to settle on this new man, its snarl quieting to a simmering, guttural groan. For once, it stayed in place without moving, just its fiery fur crackling and snapping as it flared a bit higher, almost looking as though its feline hackles were raised.
Not once moving its eyes to look away from the man between Paul and certain peril, Lynxmon slowly, deliberately lifted up one paw off the ground.
The lion's tail leisurely swaying in front of Paul went unearthly, deathly still.
And the low, threatening growl coming from what had to be the man's burly, toned chest, sent a deep, chilling shudder down Paul's spine that touched his very core.
A growl of warning.
Lynxmon wasn't deterred. It didn't break its gaze and bolt away like Paul would have, faced with such an imposing, clear threat- just still standing there, watching the man as it kept one paw lifted in the air…
…before setting it down on the ground again, one deliberate step closer.
The growl of warning rumbling from the man’s chest exploded into a deafening, beastly ROAR, sending Lynxmon tripping over its own legs in its rush to bolt away, speeding off out of sight.
Paul clapped his hands over his ears, watching with wide eyes and mouth agape- it wasn’t even directed towards him, but he could still feel it through every fiber of his being… that sheer might and power of a far dominant predator putting some poor buffoon in its place.
The man stayed where he was, silently watching Lynxmon disappear back into the tall field grasses from where it’d come, before he began to speak aloud.
“Digimon like these believe in dominance proven by strength, and seek to exercise such rule by tormenting those who are smaller and weaker than they are,” he growled out, the sheer distaste he spoke with feeling all the more potent in that deep, noble rumble. He gave a great shake of his head in disappointment, all of his grand, voluminous mane of gold rustling in turn.
“It is no coincidence that the largest proponents of such brutal philosophy themselves behave like bullies and cowards- even the mere threat of true strength is enough to send them running, tail between their legs,” he went on, returning his blade to the sheath on his belt as Paul watched. “We’d better be off soon, before they come back to trouble us again.”
The man began to turn, close to where Paul would better see his face, before the padding of little pawsteps hurrying towards him reached his ears first instead.
“Leomon! Leomon!!” Coronamon cried in delight as he dashed closer, and Paul turned his head in time to see the little spitfire dashing over, running up to and bounding high up towards the tall man before Paul could hiss out a command not to annoy him so soon after he’d just saved them.
Thankfully, the man didn’t seem too perturbed by Coronamon’s blithe, overly exuberant expression of gratitude, turning at the cub’s voice and lifting his enormous, muscular arms to easily catch him and hold him close in an embrace.
Paul watched with a jump as he caught sight of the man’s face. He knew to expect it wouldn’t be a human one, given everything that had just happened- but the long, feline ears with a pair of thin gold rings piercing the left one, the clear blue eyes that spoke of untold strength and resilience while still keeping a distinct, tender softness to his brow, and the broad, masculine chops of a lion’s muzzle as he nuzzled deep into Coronamon’s fiery orange curls…
Paul sucked in a breath, his face still hot from the tension and adrenaline from earlier lingering in his body.
Well, he certainly didn’t expect this.
“Is that you, little one? My word, look at how you’ve grown!” Leomon rumbled out, chuckling as he pulled back his face to look at Coronamon in his arms more clearly. “I’ve been looking around for you ever since you wandered off- but I’d been worrying over nothing, I suppose. What a fine, handsome Rookie you’ve shaped up to be… look at you, you’ll be bigger than I am in no time.”
Coronamon giggled as he sat in those powerful arms, hugging around that thick, golden mane and brushing up against Leomon’s scarf.
“Yeah, I know, right! My name’s Coronamon too now by the way, and I’ve just been feeling so great, oh man…” He leaned up to nuzzle his own feline cheek against Leomon’s in affection, before he perked up, remembering something. “Oh, oh, right! I need you to meet someone- Asher, Asher, come over here! Come meet Leomon!!”
He waved over to Asher, who had picked himself up off the ground and was not far behind following Coronamon. He slowed his pace when he got closer, though, his face lit up with awe and wonder as he stared up at Leomon, mouth agape.
Very quickly, Paul’s mood soured again as he looked back up to the lion man in question, following his son’s gaze.
Agh, something about this guy was just rubbing him the wrong way- couldn’t Leomon stand to put a shirt on, or something? He didn’t want Asher to… well, he didn’t want Asher to get the wrong idea about… this being anywhere near an appropriate way to dress… and especially in front of kids! What was he thinking, really? Paul would have to be the good example here again, it seemed.
Coronamon hopped down from Leomon’s big hug, standing next to Asher and taking his hand in his little paw to swing between them.
“Asher, this is Leomon- he’s been with me ever since I was a Baby level Digimon, and he’s SUPER strong and protected me wherever we went before I left to go find you, Asher! He’s just the best, and I’m really glad he’s here, hehe.” Coronamon giggled, nudging the boy’s side to get his attention and leading him a bit closer, before looking up with a wide, proud smile to address the Digimon next. “And Leomon, this is Asher- he’s my new human friend, and my partner!”
Leomon’s brows raised in surprise, nodding and humming, impressed. In a motion that startled Paul out of his train of thought, Leomon took to one knee and casually let one of his arms rest on the remaining upright knee, studying Asher closely at the boy’s eye level rather than his own.
“Hmmm… this is a surprise, I don’t think I expected this.” His sparkling blue eyes regarded the boy curiously, but with no animosity. “My name is Leomon, and I’ve been taking care of Sunmon, now Coronamon, for quite some time. It’s very nice to meet you, Asher, and thank you for making a friend in my little cub. You make sure to look out for him too, now, and I think you’ll make fine partners for each other.”
“I will,” Asher promised, giggling as Leomon lifted his other broad, mighty paw to ruffle Asher’s hair, with a fondsome, good-humored smile across his muzzle that reached his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Leomon.”
“Just Leomon will be fine, young one. I don’t think I’m quite special enough to need a title, myself,” the lion man chuckled, lifting his eyes to regard his other present company- and met Paul’s brown eyes with his pair of glittering sky blue for the first time, his expression still curious and inviting. “And who might these fellows be, here with you?”
Paul wasn’t looking at Herissmon, but he still felt a similar dread and unease as he took in the interaction. His eyes flicked between his son, the little spitfire that just would not go away, and this new unknown carrying a broad frame and a noble figure, the puzzle pieces falling into place with a sinking feeling of foreboding.
This man, this ‘Leomon,’ with all his grand strength and leonine might and bare-chested power… he was the one who’d let Coronamon get like this. He was supposed to be the one to teach that little spitfire the Rules, and to not be disrespectful, and to send him to school to learn things there- many things Coronamon seemed to be sorely lacking, that Paul would probably have to go out of his way to teach him himself. Leomon had let Coronamon become the bad influence he was so flippantly impressing on Asher, teaching the boy to do things Paul was going to have to work so much harder to undo the whole time he’d even been with them.
It was just Paul’s luck, that out of anyone in the whole Digital World who could have come to help them in their time of need, it had to be the fiery little troublemaker’s FATHER.
There was no way this was going to end well.