Chapter one: The Dead Digivice

On an early Tuesday morning, London stirred beneath an orange sky, clouds the colour of ash cascading above the skyline. The streets were still quiet at this hour, and the heavy rain from the night before had left the pavement slick with dew. From the outside, the city seemed peaceful … or at least as peaceful as London ever got. Mornings usually whispered the first murmurs of waking life: buses exhaling as they pulled away from stops, footsteps echoing across concrete. But not everyone was enraptured by the illusion that a routine life could bring. Somewhere atop a rooftop near Westminster, a man named Reid and his digimon partner, Lopmon, sat in silence, watching over the city, knowing the civilians weren’t the only things about to wake. 

Reid’s breath left soft puffs in the cool air. His hoodie was zipped halfway, the white collar of his old work shirt neatly visible underneath. He wasn’t employed anymore, but it was a habit he hadn’t broken yet since leaving the agency known as C.R.E.S.T eight months ago. Beside him, Lopmon sat on the ledge, her small legs just peeking over. Her long ears trailed behind her like fabric caught in a breeze. But her gaze wasn’t on the skyline. She was watching Reid — more concerned with his wellbeing than the world below. She had watched him become more and more distant since they left the agency together, she was afraid he was still hunted by the events that had led to their dismissal, guilty for the part he played. He glanced her way and smiled, catching her expression. She smiled back, pushing the feeling of worry aside, finally turning to face the horizon with him. 

That’s when Reid noticed her ears. They were rippling; not with the wind, but slightly out of sync with it. He recognised the sign immediately. Lopmon could sense digital waves long before they became a problem. It was her gift as she liked to say. But Reid felt maybe it was more a burden. It meant that even when separated from the agency they could not get away from the digital rifts.  

She tilted her head. “I feel a distortion in the digital waves” 

He looked at her with concern. “How big of a distortion?” 

She narrowed her eyes toward the skyline. “It’s faint… but it is close by. The waves are strange though. Not like anything I’ve felt before.” She hesitated. “I doubt the agency will detect it for a while.” 

Reid sighed as he rose, brushing the dust from his trousers. “Which direction do you feel it?” 

Lopmon raised a paw, pointing east. “That way. Sort of.” She stepped forward to the edge of the rooftop and lifted her ears slightly, testing the wind. 

Reid knew that if a Digimon slipped through a breach before the agency had a chance to pick it up someone could get hurt, he had no choice but to check it out. He stepped beside her and knelt. She broke into a short run, then leapt up onto his back, gripping his hoodie tight. Her ears flared out wide, catching the breeze like sails. Her tiny stature meant she was never built for carrying him, not really, but she’d adapted through years of training alongside him, just enough to carry his weight short distances. 

Reid ran forward and jumped from the ledge just as her ears caught the air. They dipped for a second, then levelled out, gliding smoothly over the rooftops. 

They landed with a practiced thud near an alley just off Craig’s Court. Gravel crunched beneath Reid’s boots, the sound quickly swallowed by the fog that hugged the ground. Lopmon hopped down as Reid crouched, scanning the narrow path. Thick fog near a breach wasn’t uncommon — and this thick? It confirmed they were close. 

Lopmon sniffed the air. “It’s here.” 

Then the breach opened — thin at first, barely visible to the eye, but almost as if it was reacting to their presence, it burst open. A humanoid figure stepped out, sword in hand. Its limbs jittered. The image glitched, spasming every few seconds as though struggling maintain it’s form. 

“It’s Kinkakumon,” Reid said, eyes narrowing. “But why is it so glitchy? That must be what caused the waves you felt to feel so strange.” He raised his phone, snapping a quick photo. “We might need this later.” 

Lopmon’s brow furrowed. “We’ve never seen a Digimon come through like this.” 

“It appears unstable,” Reid said, stepping back. “Don’t drop your guard Lopmon. Kinkakumon’s still Champion-level. This thing could still hit hard.” 

The creature’s arm lashed out, sword slicing through the air ... a pulse distorted reality, making nearby windows shudder. Reid dove left, rolled, and came up behind a rusted bin. Lopmon vaulted over it, landing between him and the Digimon. 

“Whatever this thing is, it’s violent and if left unchecked someone could get hurt. Let’s take it out and make sure that doesn't happen” Reid said. 

“Right!” Lopmon replied. 

With a hiss of broken code, Kinkakumon lunged. 

Lopmon met it mid-air, ears snapping outward like blades. They collided in a flare of sparks. Reid watched from the alley floor, teeth clenched. Without his Digivice, he couldn’t do more than observe; he couldn’t lend his strength. 

Lopmon ducked a swing, twisted, and slammed the creature into a steel post. The impact buzzed like a bad signal. Kinkakumon staggered, then screamed, the sound rang like nails beings dragged across a bathtub. 

Reid was keeping a close eye for weak spots and in the moment, it staggered he saw the instability in its chest, flickering far worse than the rest of its body. “Hit the chest!” he shouted. 

Lopmon landed, breath tight. Her ears angled behind her for balance. Then her jaw parted, and a glow built at the back of her throat … a bright, icy blue. 

“Blazing Ice!” she cried. 

The sphere burst forward like a comet of concentrated frost. It hit Kinkakumon centre mass. The unstable core cracked, splintered, and then the entire form shattered, glitching into fragments of data and frost, carried off on the breeze. 

The fog began to lift. 

Reid crossed to Lopmon, who was panting hard. 

“You did great,” he said quietly. 

She gave a faint smile, and together they moved to where the Digimon had fallen. 

“I felt more during our fight when I clashed with it...” Lopmon began. “The waves coming from it felt stitched together. I don’t know how else to describe it.” 

Reid crouched beside her. “Stitched together?” 

“Yeah, normally even distortions feel like this smooth continuous wave. But this was like… multiple different waves all moving at different frequencies.” 

He nodded. “Hmm ... that shouldn’t be possible in one other than maybe Kimeramon.” 

“Exactly.” 

“I took a photo. We don’t have the tech to analyse this glitched Digimon or the breach, but maybe D will.” 

“She still hasn’t spoken to you?” 

“No,” he said, tapping a few buttons before sending the image. “But she’ll know how important this is.” 

Lopmon gave a slow nod. “If anyone can track this back to the source, it’s Diana and Salamon.” 

Reid rose, brushing frost off his knees. “You think someone sent it through?” 

Lopmon hesitated. “I don’t know. It didn’t feel like a natural breach. Not exactly. But I don’t think it was fully forced either.” 

“More like something’s changing on the other side?” 

“Maybe.” 

Reid looked down at his Digivice — still clipped to his belt. Still dark. Still silent. 

“We’ll leave it with her for now,” he said. “But let’s sweep the area first. Make sure nothing else got through before we arrived.” 

Lopmon hopped up onto his shoulder. Together, they searched the nearby area.