Piximon hovered before the group, his staff twirling lazily in his hand. The air had cooled slightly since the intense conversation, though tension still lingered like mist over a battlefield.
"Follow me," he said, voice steady and cryptic. Without waiting, he floated ahead.
The children followed him out of the dojo-like house and into the heart of the forest. The terrain shifted as they moved—flat ground gave way to worn stone steps, then to twisted roots and arches of glowing trees, until at last they arrived in a clearing bordered by rocky cliffs.
Before them was a wide training ground unlike anything they had seen. It looked like a mix between an obstacle course, a sparring arena, and a survival pit. There were platforms that spun, steep walls to scale, digimon dummies that fired slow-energy projectiles, and narrow bridges that swayed over pits.
"This," Piximon announced, "is your foundation."
He floated above the clearing, pointing toward different sections of the field.
"Speed drills over there. Strength testing on that path. Teamwork through those tandem courses. Reflex training under those turrets. Every trial is made to help you grow stronger and smarter—digimon and partner. Use your time well. You cannot afford to be unprepared."
The digimon stirred with excitement. Tentomon's wings buzzed. Gabumon sniffed the air. Biyomon flapped enthusiastically. Even Palmon extended her vines like fists ready for battle.
Piximon then turned to Tai. "You. Come with me. Agumon, too."
Tai blinked. "Uh… why just me?"
"You bear the Crest of Courage," Piximon said simply. "Your trial begins now—and it cannot be shared."
Agumon looked up at Tai and gave a reassuring nod. "We've got this, Tai!"
Piximon led them away from the group, the trees growing denser around them. Eventually, the branches opened to reveal a narrow entrance carved into the side of a rocky hill. Moss clung to its edges, and an unnatural mist curled out of the darkness inside.
A mysterious cave.
Piximon hovered at the entrance and gestured them forward.
"This cave has no maps. No guides. Only you, your partner, and your instincts. Your task is simple—find your way back to the clearing. How you do that… is up to you."
Tai stepped forward hesitantly, peering into the shadows. "And if we get lost?"
Piximon's tone grew low. "Then you learn. That is the point."
Agumon held Tai's hand. "Let's go. Whatever's in there—we'll face it together."
Tai looked back once at the training ground, where his friends were already beginning their exercises, then stepped into the cave with Agumon close behind.
As soon as they entered, the light outside vanished. They were enveloped in silence and shadows, with only the faint glow of Agumon's claws casting flickers on the walls.
As Piximon floated away with Tai and Agumon toward the mist-veiled cave, the rest of the group lingered at the edge of the training ground. The silence that followed was thick and heavy, filled not with peace—but with the weight of what they had just learned.
Matt kicked a stone into the dirt, arms folded tightly across his chest. "So… the world's being recycled by some cosmic machine-immortal that doesn't care if we live or die." He let out a dry chuckle. "No pressure."
"It's not that bad," Izzy said, though even his voice trembled slightly. "I mean, well, it is bad, but at least we know now. Knowing means we can prepare. Right?"
Joe adjusted his glasses, which had slipped slightly down his nose from the sweat and tension. "I'm not sure knowing changes anything, Izzy. We're still just kids. I'm not a soldier—I want to be a doctor. I should be studying for exams, not fighting world-ending cults."
"You'd make a great doctor," Mimi said gently, brushing dust from her pink gloves. "But you're here now, Joe. And you're doing great. You're the most reliable person I know—even if you complain too much."
"I do not complain too mu—okay, maybe a little," Joe admitted, sighing.
Sora, who had been quietly staring in the direction Tai disappeared, finally spoke. "We all knew there was danger from the start. But this is different. This isn't just one evil Digimon terrorizing a village—this is... an entire system pushing toward destruction."
"And yet," T.K. said, voice small but clear, "Piximon said we have power, too. Our crests. Our digimon. Us." He looked around. "We're here because we're meant to be."
"Yeah," Kari added softly. "We've come this far together. I believe in that."
There was a moment of quiet as the wind whispered through the trees and the faint thuds of training dummies echoed in the distance.
Naruto, who had been leaning against a boulder with his arms crossed, finally stepped forward, his usual bravado tempered with sincerity. "Back home… things were different. Big fights, sure, but this?" He looked at the others with sharp, determined eyes. "This is war on a whole new level. But I've learned something from every fight I've been in: fear means you care. And if you care, then you can win. You just have to never give up."
Sparky, floating beside him, gave a small but enthusiastic zap of energy. "Let's shock the system, boss!"
The group chuckled, the tension easing.
"Well then," Matt said, standing up straighter. "If we're going to be warriors chosen by fate or immortals or whatever… we'd better start training like it."
"Right!" Mimi raised a fist with unusual determination. "Let's split up and try everything. Strength, speed, teamwork—if there's a lesson to learn, I want to learn it!"
Joe nodded, pushing up his glasses. "I'll keep track of progress. Maybe we can make a schedule?"
Izzy was already typing rapidly into his laptop. "I'll analyze the training modules. If we optimize time distribution and calorie intake, we can—"
"Let's not overthink it, Izzy," Sora said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We train. We grow. We support each other. That's what matters."
With new purpose stirring in their hearts, the group broke apart—some heading to the obstacle courses, others to the strength trials. Palmon stretched her vines eagerly. Biyomon soared overhead. Gabumon trotted beside Matt with calm resolve.
Though the future was uncertain, and shadows loomed on the edges of their path, the bonds between them burned brighter than ever.
The training ground designated for reflex and speed was a circular arena carved from smooth stone, surrounded by rune-marked walls that hummed with Piximon's energy. At the center stood Biyomon, her wings twitching slightly in anticipation, eyes narrowed with focus.
She stood at Level One.
A low mechanical whir echoed around her, followed by the voice of the system:
"Level One: Bullet speed—100 miles per hour. Objective: Evade all projectiles for 60 seconds."
The walls opened, revealing narrow slits. A single click snapped in the air, and Biyomon's eyes widened—then the barrage began.
Small rubber bullets zipped through the air like hornets. Biyomon darted left, her pink wings flaring, then rolled midair in a tight corkscrew to avoid two more from opposite sides. One grazed her wingtip, but she gritted her beak and kept going.
Sora watched from the control booth, fingers clenched on the railing. "You've got this, Biyomon," she whispered. "Stay light. You're faster than them."
Biyomon didn't hear her partner's voice, but she could feel her presence—and it pushed her forward.
The timer ticked down—
:37… :28… :19…
The bullets changed direction midflight. Biyomon's eyes flared with surprise, but she snapped into a backflip, barely escaping a shot aimed at her chest.
She started to breathe harder. Not from exhaustion, but from clarity.
It's not just about flying away. It's about predicting. Feeling the pattern. Becoming part of the air.
At that moment, Biyomon closed her eyes.
Sora gasped, "What is she doing?!"
The bullets came faster.
But Biyomon moved—not with fear, but with flow. Her body ducked, twisted, and flipped between the shots with eerie precision, as if she could hear the very data paths they followed.
:03… :02… :01…
The system beeped.
"Level One complete. Performance: 89% efficiency. Reflex synchronization improving."
The barrage stopped. Biyomon landed lightly on one talon, chest heaving, but her face lit up with pride.
Sora sprinted to her, throwing her arms around the bird Digimon. "You were amazing!"
Biyomon leaned into the hug, wings twitching with excitement. "I could feel the air shifting around me. I want to go again. Level Two."
Sora hesitated, then smiled. "Then let's go. We're going to outfly the wind, Biyomon."
"Initiating Level Two: Bullet speed—150 miles per hour. Random trajectory enabled. Dodging time: 90 seconds."
The announcer's voice was colder this time, less like a challenge and more like a sentence. The floor beneath Biyomon shimmered faintly as the arena subtly restructured itself — the slits in the walls doubled in number, and small hovering drones emerged from the ceiling, aiming their nozzles down like watchful eyes.
Biyomon looked up, beak clenched. "Alright… I'm ready."
Sora's expression was mixed with pride and worry. "Just be careful," she whispered, watching as the countdown began.
3… 2… 1… GO.
The bullets came like lightning — not in streams, but in bursts of spiraling, twisting fury.
Biyomon darted left immediately, spinning mid-air to narrowly avoid a double shot. She tried to ride the rhythm like before, but this time, there was no rhythm. The shots were erratic, deliberately unpredictable. A bullet grazed her wing, and then a pair collided right in front of her path, sending her into a spiral.
She recovered, panting, wings flapping hard to maintain her altitude.
"Come on… focus!" she told herself. "Just stay calm. Stay light."
For a moment, she managed — dodging six in a row, swooping low to confuse the drones.
But then—
Whack!
A rubber bullet slammed into her shoulder from behind.
She yelped, wings twitching. The drones swarmed like vultures sensing weakness, and in seconds—
Thwack. Smack. Smack.
She was hit three more times — one to her leg, one to her wing, and the last to her side. She let out a tired, "Biyo!" and crashed into the floor.
The arena lights dimmed.
"Level Two: Failed. Strike count exceeded limit. Reflex overload detected. Performance: 42%."
Biyomon groaned softly, pushing herself up with shaky wings. "I… I couldn't read them. It was like… everything came at once."
Sora was already by her side, kneeling. "You did great. That was insane, Biyomon—those things were faster than I could even see."
Biyomon looked down, ashamed. "But I lost. I didn't even make it halfway…"
Sora shook her head and gently placed a hand over Biyomon's wing. "You didn't lose. You just met your limit for today. And that's how we grow, right? We see our limit… and then we push past it."
Biyomon looked up, her eyes meeting Sora's. The disappointment began to shift, slowly, into determination.
"…Next time, I'll beat Level Two," she said softly. "No—next time, I'll dominate Level Two."
Sora smiled. "That's more like it."