The next morning, your sleep is interrupted by a dazzling beam from the outside, that pierces the translucent gaps in the tent. You shoot upright, and so does Phascomon. It's bright. That's not possible. The city has no daylight cycle. You're struck by the dissonance of being outdoors, yet showered in light. Phascomon says something to you, but his voice is drowned out by the sound of rotors and engines.

It takes you several more seconds to catch on to his frenzied yelling. His claw nicks you lightly as he tugs on your arm, and before you can react, he hololizes himself back into the Digivice.

"Greetings, citizen! Please step outside!"

Your eyes grow wide, and you look towards the door. How fast can you run, when there's already a pursuer this close? The telltale engine of a mechanical Digimon is overwhelming your hearing, but the message comes in loud and clear through a direct broadcast to your user data.

If you're caught, there's no point hiding in here. Maybe Phascomon will need to fight regardless of his injuries. Or maybe you can use your freeze code. Or even go further North to the barrier.

"Please step outside and remain within your designated camping plot!"

You unzip the flap and put your goggles on. It automatically dims the world, allowing you some solace from the glow. As you make your way outside, you see a Cargodramon hovering high above you. Once you're in the light, several green servitors rappel down, with funny little hats on their oblong heads. You brace yourself for the worst as the rangers surround you.

"Good morning, Marnie!" One says, as though its known you your whole life.

"We are currently in search of a Digital Lifeform, to aid in our relocation and conservation efforts. We believe it has passed through this area."

"... Okay?"

"As you are the only camper within two hundred plots of its last known location, we require your cooperation."

You stare at your wristwatch. The perpetual r3t3xture is still there for everybody else, so maybe they haven't identified your Digivice yet. You stand still and think, as the sound of rotors rips through your ears and sends your hair into a whirlwind of jet black.

"Have you, within the last sixteen hours, witnessed any form of living organism within the vicinity of your campsite?"


You can't tell if they've picked up Phascomon's presence, or if this is a coincidence, and they're responding to some other emergence event. You need to spin a lie, then get the hell out of this campground before they ask too many questions.