The forest was cloaked in silence. Not the gentle silence of sleep, but the deep, bone-weary quiet of exhaustion. Around the old training ground, the children lay in scattered clumps, their blankets barely shielding them from the chill night breeze. Bruised, battered, and worn thin from two weeks of relentless, merciless training under Piximon, they slept like soldiers who had survived a war.
Matt opened his eyes.
His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his limbs aching as though his bones had been replaced with iron. His knuckles were still bandaged from sparring with Tai the day before, and his legs trembled slightly as he sat up. Every inch of him screamed to stay still, to lie back down and savor the one night they'd all been promised to rest.
But then he saw it.
The Digivice, faintly pulsing with a soft, ethereal light—like a heartbeat echoing across a vast, unseen distance. It wasn't the alarm they'd all become familiar with, the warning of danger. No. This was... different. A pull. A whisper. A promise.
It was calling him.
Matt sat still for a moment, eyes fixed on the light. His breath caught as a quiet thrum filled his ears, as if some ancient string within him had been plucked. He knew instantly: his Crest was near. Closer than it had ever been. And it was reaching out to him.
He turned slightly, instinctively glancing around the campsite. Everyone was still, deeply asleep. Mimi curled up beside Palmon, Tai sprawled out on his back with Agumon snoring beside him. Joe muttered something in his dreams. Even Piximon was nowhere to be seen, likely keeping a silent vigil nearby.
But not everyone was asleep.
Izzy was sitting up, the glow of his own Digivice tucked beneath the hem of his coat. His eyes were alert, sharp even in the dark. When Matt met his gaze, the boy simply nodded—subtle, understanding.
Matt had barely taken a few steps when he paused again, the Digivice's glow steady in his hand. A soft rustle behind him made him turn, and there was Izzy, standing now, arms crossed tight around his chest like he was holding something inside. His own Digivice shone faintly beneath his hand.
"You too?" Matt asked, already knowing the answer.
Izzy didn't speak right away. His brows were knit in thought, the tension on his face plain even in the shadows. "I felt it not long after you did. At first, I thought it was interference—or maybe a data pattern I didn't recognize." He glanced at his Digivice. "But it's not. It's something else. Like… someone calling my name through a tunnel I can't see the end of."
Matt's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Your Crest is near, too."
Izzy nodded slowly, then looked down. "But maybe we should wait till morning. Tell the others. If it's real, it'll still be there, right?"
Matt stepped closer, his voice firm but not unkind. "Izzy. We just spent two weeks being pounded into the dirt, training until we couldn't stand—literally. If we're still afraid of moving without everyone holding hands in a circle, then what was it for?"
Izzy blinked, surprised by Matt's tone. There was a fire in the older boy's eyes—not recklessness, but conviction. A sense of readiness that hadn't been there before.
"I know it's not easy," Matt added, softer now. "And I know you'd rather analyze it first and run simulations. But our Crests… they're calling us. Not the group. Us. That means it's time."
The forest wind tugged at Izzy's jacket. He stood still, processing the logic, weighing it like a complicated equation. Finally, he looked up.
"You're right," he said, exhaling through his nose. "If we don't test our limits now, we might as well not have trained at all."
Matt smiled slightly, relieved. "We'll scout first. No rushing in. Use your gear. Your scanner, any aerial support you can get. We'll wake Piximon and let him know."
Izzy nodded and pulled his laptop case closer. "I'll recalibrate the map. If the signal has a pattern, I'll find the point of origin. We can triangulate both crest signals from where we are."
"And if it's too far?" Matt asked.
"Then we go as far as we can," Izzy said, his confidence quietly building now. "With what we've learned… I'd say we're more ready than we think."
The two boys shared a look—a rare and mutual understanding. Different as they were, they both felt the weight of what was to come.
Matt turned toward the training hut nearby. "Come on. Let's tell Piximon. If these Crests are calling us now, we don't have time to waste."
The boys walked off into the trees, the twin glows of their Digivices lighting the path. Behind them, the others still slept—tired, whole, and perhaps unknowingly on the edge of something great.
And in the darkness, unseen among the branches above, a pair of gleaming eyes blinked once, then vanished with a faint whisper of wind.
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The silence of the clearing was deceptive.
In the sliver of moonlight filtering through the trees, Naruto's eyes opened slowly, like a wolf stirred by distant movement. His body, honed by years of surviving the wild and enduring battles no child should've known, remained perfectly still as his senses sharpened.
He had heard everything—Matt's firm resolve, Izzy's hesitant agreement, the crunch of leaves beneath their boots, and the faint chirr of their Digivices as the glow pulsed like heartbeats in the night. He saw them leave, accompanied by their Digimon, unaware of the eyes that now watched them from the shadows.
Naruto's jaw tightened slightly.
"They're going after their Crests…" he whispered under his breath. "Of course they are."
He couldn't blame them. If it were him, he would've done the same. But this world wasn't kind to wanderers, and even less to children who dared walk alone into its belly. He had nearly died once—no, more than once—for that same desire. That same pull. He knew better than anyone what kind of things waited in the dark when the light was thin.
He rose without a sound, his movement fluid and practiced. His eyes flickered toward the others sleeping peacefully—Tai, Sora, Mimi curled like a blossom, even Joe muttering in his dreams. He hesitated for only a moment, then vanished into the trees like mist caught by the wind.
From a high branch, Naruto crouched, his chakra suppressing his presence to a whisper against the leaves. Below him, Matt and Izzy moved with their partners—Gabumon and Tentomon—the four of them unaware of the extra pair of feet that followed their trail.
Naruto's gaze was sharp and calculating, but his heart was steady with concern.
He followed—not to interfere, but to be there if they fell.
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The pale moonlight dappled the forest path as Matt and Izzy moved deeper into the trees, their Digivices glowing softly—an ethereal blue and amber pulse in the quiet dark. Gabumon padded beside Matt with soundless footsteps, while Tentomon's wings buzzed faintly with a nervous energy. The deeper they went, the thicker the air felt, as though the forest itself was holding its breath.
Then, high above, something moved.
A sudden streak of light zipped down from the trees, and Piximon appeared before them, floating in that peculiar way of his—half comical, half celestial, his tiny wings humming with purpose.
"You have heard the call," Piximon said, his voice surprisingly grave. "Your Crests awaken."
Izzy adjusted his glasses, startled. "You knew?"
Piximon gave a short nod. "I always know. The Digital World never sleeps—not truly. Your hearts called back to your Crests… and they responded. But know this—what lies ahead will not be like the battles you fought here."
Matt's eyes narrowed slightly, his hand tightening on the Digivice.
"You must face it together," Piximon continued. "As comrades. As friends. Let not fear or pride walk between you." His eyes settled on Matt's for a beat longer than was comfortable. "Especially you, bearer of Friendship."
Matt looked away, jaw tight. "We'll handle it."
Piximon nodded once more, then—like starlight vanishing between clouds—he disappeared.
The silence returned, broken only by the wind stirring the leaves above. The two boys stood still for a moment before Matt turned and began walking again.
Izzy followed, quickening his steps. "He… sounded like he was giving a farewell."
"He's not coming with us," Matt replied quietly.
Izzy hesitated, then said, "I guess we shouldn't have expected him to. This is our trial, after all."
They walked on in silence for several minutes, the slope of the hill growing gentler now, the moonlight filtering through thinner branches. Their footsteps made faint sounds on the path, almost shy. Eventually, Izzy spoke again.
"I really want to find my Crest," he said softly. "If Tentomon can reach his ultimate form, then—"
"It's not just about power," Matt interrupted, though not unkindly.
Izzy blinked at him. "You think I'm being… shallow?"
"No," Matt sighed, slowing down. "I just… I used to think like that too. That getting stronger meant solving everything. If Gabumon got stronger, then I wouldn't have to be scared, or confused, or feel… helpless."
Izzy looked at him, surprised by the quiet vulnerability in Matt's tone.
Matt stopped at the edge of a small clearing, his eyes distant. "But then Tai got his Crest. And Mimi too. And it wasn't just their Digimon that changed… they did. They understood something about themselves. I want that too. I want to know who I am, not just what I'm supposed to do."
He looked at his glowing Digivice. "Sometimes I feel like everything depends on me. That if I can't hold everyone together, they'll fall apart. But I can't even hold myself together half the time."
Izzy gave a small, thoughtful frown. "Matt…"
Matt chuckled bitterly. "I'm not saying it for sympathy. I just—I hope the Crest shows me something. Gives me some clarity. If not power, then… peace."
Gabumon, who had remained quietly by his side, spoke for the first time. "You're already stronger than you think, Matt. You've carried everyone when they couldn't carry themselves."
Matt's lips twitched. "Thanks, buddy."
Izzy glanced at his own Digivice. "I guess… maybe I'm hoping for answers too. Not just evolution. Something that explains why I keep chasing data, even when it's not helpful. Why I can't stop analyzing, even when I know I should feel instead."
Matt turned to look at him, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Then I guess we both want more than power."
Together, they stepped out of the clearing—and then stopped.
The trees thinned, and before them lay a shimmering border of mist and violet light. The boundary. Piximon's domain ended here.
Izzy held his breath. "So this is it."
Matt nodded slowly, staring at the dark forest beyond. It felt… colder there. Not just physically, but in the way the air hummed with expectation and dread. Anything could lie beyond that veil.
Matt took a breath, square and steady. "We've trained for this."
"And if we fail?"
Matt looked at him, eyes calmer now. "Then we get back up. Like always."
Without another word, the two of them stepped forward, the mist curling around their feet as they crossed the threshold into the unknown.
And in the trees far above, unseen by either, Naruto continued his silent vigil—his shadow following theirs, one heartbeat behind.