High in the mountains of the Folder Continent, on a cliff overlooking their home, the brothers sparred. An ExVeemon, named Maximus, and his younger sibling, a Veedramon, named Maverick, traded blows, clenched fists striking scaled flesh as the two bobbed and weaved around one another.

Yet the two were all smiles and laughter, even as they took blow after blow. Maverick, despite taking on the form that was bigger and physically superior, found himself struggling to keep up with his quick-footed elder sibling. Even though Maximus had held to his promise to refrain from using his wings to fly, he was still lighter on his feet and more graceful.

“Come on, Maverick; is that the best you can do?" the ExVeemon taunted his more bull-headed sibling.

“Oh, shut up!" Maverick retorted, coming in with another punch.

Maximus ducked out of the way, whooping as he delivered a kick to his brother's knee, catching his other leg as he tried to take a step. Maverick yelped and flailed his arms as he went down, barely managing to put them between him and the ground as he was tripped.

“You know if you keep eating dirt like that, you could pretend to be a Drimogemon," Maximus teased again.

This time, though, Maverick didn't take the joke well. With a snarl, he swung his hindquarters to the side and sent his long, thick tail swinging into his laughing brother's side. Maximus failed to see the tail coming until it was too late; it struck his back. Maximus yelped in pain as he was launched off his feet, hitting the ground hard and knocking the wind out of him.

“Ow… Maverick, what're you trying to-"

As Maximus rolled onto his back to look at his brother, he was alarmed when Maverick suddenly landed on top of him, teeth bared and snarling, mouth open wide to reveal the many razor-sharp teeth in his maw. “Whoa, whoa, Maverick, stop!" Maximus cried, hands raised to try to stop his brother's attack.

Then… Maverick smiled.

“Got you."

Maximus's expression flattened… “You are a Numemon's arse!" he said, pushing Maverick sharply and knocking him onto his backside even as he laughed. “I thought you were going to eat me or something!"

“I only look like a monster, bro," Maverick countered. “Nothing says I can't pretend to be one every now and then, especially if it means serving you a helping of humble pie."

“Oh, shut up," Maximus countered, but found himself chuckling even as he stood and dusted himself off. “But, you're right – I probably deserved that."

“Oh, you definitely did," Maverick retorted.

Maximus scoffed and shook his head. “Alright, we only had time for one sparring session today. We better get to work before we're late; last thing I want is Xavier chewing our tails off."

Maverick nodded. “Yeah, agreed. Let's go."

Having concluded their sparring sessions for the day, Maximus and Maverick returned to the village below – the village of the Vee clan. They headed to their work for the day, at the lumber mill, retrieving their axes and saws before heading into the woods. They were greeted by others of their kind, before the foreman – an ExVeemon called Xavier, directed them to their workplace for the day.

The two picked their first tree to cut down and used their two-man saw to begin cutting it down. “Back… Forth… Back… Forth," Maximus mumbled as they cut into the tree.

“We picked a big one here," said Maverick, grunting with effort as he pulled and pushed through his share of the work. “Think we can even finish this before losing too much day?"

“We can certainly try," Maximus replied between cuts, having to pause when it was his turn to pull.

“Got a lot of… Orders this week. What're… They all for?" Maverick asked.

“Well, too early in the season for firewood," Maximus replied. “Winter's not for another two months… But there's been a lot of construction… At the Citadel, so I've heard."

“The Holy Citadel, out east?"

“That's the one."

“What do you suppose is… Going on there?"

“Your guess… Is as good as mine, Maverick," said Maximus before he heard the creaking of the tree and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Timber!" he shouted, jumping away to give the tree plenty of room as it came down.

The massive pine tree fell with a crash, and the brothers picked up their axes and hand saws. They got to work cutting off the tree's branches, shearing the canopy off and depositing the excess into wheelbarrows. They shook pine needles into bags, broke up the branches for kindling, and hacked the trunk into two halves.

It was impressive, seeing the number of Veemon swarming the tree like a colony of ants, pruning and dressing it for conversion into lumber, armed with pruners, axes and saws to do their work, and humming in tandem with each other.

But, all of a sudden, as one Veemon continued working, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and stopped swinging his axe to look, seeing a withered tree stump. He had noticed it earlier, of course, but he could have worn it had been further away before… Shrugging and chalking it up to his imagination, he raised his hatchet to get back to work…

“Branch…" he heard a whisper, and paused. “Drain!" the voice said again, louder this time.

The stump suddenly lunged at him. He had little time to cry out before it raised an arm and struck him, piercing his body in multiple places with the multiple points on the end of its limb, knocking the wind out of him. Almost immediately, he felt his energy being sapped by the stump.

Not a stump, he realized… A Woodmon.

Another Veemon saw the assailant and cried out for help. Maximus and Maverick, having begun moving to the next tree they were due to cut, froze in their tracks and turned sharply in the direction of the cry, and saw the unfolding scene.

“Crap!" Maximus shouted, dropping the saw and breaking into a run without a second thought.

“Where the heck did that thing come from?!" Maverick demanded as he followed his brother.

Without answering his brother, Maximus jumped into the air, spreading his wings wide and gliding at the Woodmon, leading with his shoulder as he fell into a dive and tackled the nature Digimon. The force of being tackled successfully dislodged the Veemon who had been attacked, the smaller, blue dragonoid falling limp to the ground as several of his cohorts rushed to get him.

The Woodmon threw Maximus off himself, rounding on him with a sharp glare from its blue eyes that the ExVeemon matched. Raising its arms, it aimed both fists at him, and attacked. “Leaf Slider!" it growled, launching several sharp, leaf-like projectiles at him.

Maximus hastily jumped to the side, avoiding the leaves, and used a mental command to summon his counterattack. 'Hearty Shatter!' he thought, forming a fireball in his mouth and shooting it at the Woodmon. Startled by the fireball, the Woodmon put up its arms in defense, the hot flames exploding against its arms and leaving its wooden limbs scorched.

The Woodmon swung out its arms, and was about to attack Maximus again when Maverick joined the fight, ramming into the Woodmon with his massive form and sending it hurtling into another tree, crashing noisily into the large pine. “Surprise, bark brain!" Maverick growled, wearing a monstrous grin on his face.

The Woodmon, still refusing to surrender, rounded on the younger sibling now, and rushed at him, carried on its four root-like legs with surprising speed. Maverick's hands cause the Woodmon's spiky fists, the two struggling to overpower the other. But, Maverick proved the stronger, successfully holding back… And revealed the folly of the Woodmon as Maximus suddenly appeared above his sibling.

“Vee Laser!" Maximus shouted, the V-shaped crest on his torso glowing and emitting a beam of light matching the shape of his crest, and striking the Woodmon directly, pushing him back from Maverick and giving the Veedramon his opening.

“V-Nova Blast!" Maverick growled before he opened his mouth to release a powerful ray of concentrated heat – not quite fire, but more than a laser like his brother.

Within seconds, the struggling Woodmon was blackened by the heat of the ray, and the moment its struggles ceased it seemed to shatter, exploding into a cloud of particles. Unlike creatures of the living world, inhabitants of Digital World did not bleed; they were code, not flesh and blood, but they could think, feel and learn just like any organic entity.

As was expected when a Digimon 'died', its conqueror would absorb its data, which Maximus watched as Maverick did just that, holding out his arms and taking the particles of data into his body. From there, he would gain its experience and a marginal increase in his strength. True, Maximus had helped him, but it had been Maverick who had scored the kill, and so he let his brother take the power.

Woodmon would be reformatted and born anew as a completely different Digimon. As was their nature, when Digimon returned, they came back as Baby Digimon, and when they achieved evolution, their path was never pre-determined; it was nearly impossible for them to follow the same path as they did in their prior life. Therefore, by definition, this Woodmon, whoever he was or whatever he did in his life, or where he intended to go, was truly gone forever.

A tragedy, thought Maximus. But, this was the nature of the Digital World; Digimon sought strength to achieve evolution, and sometimes, they failed… Only the strongest and wisest would go on to reach their peak. Ones like the Thirteen Knights, like the Four Guardians, or the Holy Trinity at the Citadel. Few could ever achieve their ultimate power… But the path was always there.

Then, of course, some preferred the peaceful life, like these Veemon, getting by as foresters and horticulturists, selling lumber and replanting the trees they cut down, following their own cycle of life. Unfortunately, such being were often easy targets for other Digimon, such as that Woodmon… It was a vicious cycle… But it was life.

“Hope that guy was alone," said Maverick. “What's a Woodmon doing so close to a populated area anyway?"

“Don't know," admitted Maximus. “Perhaps got a little too ambitious and decided to target Digimon where it knew they lived. Hardly the first time we've heard of such a thing."

“True," agreed Maverick, resting one hand against his hip before turning to regard his brother. “Let's get back, see what the damage is, then. Hopefully that poor Veemon that got hit will make it."

Maximus grimaced. He hadn't seen the extent of the damage to the Veemon that had been attacked, but there was always a chance…

When Maximus and Maverick emerged from the woods, hurrying back to their village to determine the aftermath of the attack, the scene they came upon was like nothing that they had expected. The Veemon were gathered around something, and as the brothers came closer, they saw two strangers in the ring of Veemon, being watched cautiously by a Veedramon who stood over her smaller counterparts.

At first, the brother's minds raced with suspicion, and they halted at the edge of the circle. They studied the two strangers in the circle, and the wounded Veemon that lay at the center of the activity, lying between the pair. Their presence brought about an otherworldly calm to the Veemon and kinfolk, rarely seeing any visitors to their village on this side of the Folder Continent.

The strangers themselves were striking, their appearance unlike any the Veemon had seen. The first wore a tattered purple cape that fluttered lightly in the breeze, a pointed hat perched atop his head. His suit, a patchwork of yellow, clung to him as though it had been stitched together from countless different pieces. In his hand, he carried a staff, tipped by a multi-pointed shape, resembling the sun in artistic depictions.

The second stranger, in stark contrast, was draped in a white outfit with green markings, his clothes equally worn but no less strange. He, too, carried a staff, but his was crowned with a crystal-shaped snowflake that shimmered with icy brilliance. As he knelt beside the injured Veemon, his vacant palm glowed with a soft green energy, radiating warmth that seemed to bend the very air around them.

The Veemon gathered nearby gasped in awe, their eyes wide. They had heard stories of magicians and mystics, but to see them in person, in their quiet little village. It was like watching the very elements dance around these strange figures. There was magic here, alive and real, something that felt far beyond their understanding.

Maximus stood frozen, eyes wide as he recognized the figures for what they were. He had seen their kind only in fleeting tales, heard their names whispered in the wind. The stranger with the sun-tipped staff was a Wizardmon, and the other was a Sorcerimon.

For a moment, it felt as though time had stopped—nothing but the soft hum of the air and the energy swirling between these two strangers and the wounded Veemon, as Maximus and his brother – as well as the many Veemon nearby, watched real magic at work, healing the wounds of the Veemon lumberjack.

“When the heck did these two get here?" Maverick asked suddenly, breaking his elder brother out of his reverie.

“I don't know… Never seen them before," admitted Maximus.

“What do you think they want?" Maverick asked, suspiciously.

Maximus didn't answer, watching the scene unfold instead, as the Veemon's injuries slowly vanished under the gentle healing of the Sorcerimon. Eventually, the glow faded, and the two wizard Digimon moved away.

The Veemon's eyes opened slowly, and he began to sit up, one of his friends rushing to his side to help him. “What happened?" he asked, and then jerked as he remembered. “The Woodmon! Where-?"

“It's okay, little Vee," the female Veedramon stated, giving a calming wave of her hand. “Maximus and Maverick already took care of him. Then these two," she gestured to the wizards, “happened and offered their help."

The previously injured Veemon looked at the two wizards, blinking as he took them in. Clearly, he didn't know what to make of them; not even able to thank them for their help. Maximus, sensing he needed to step in, cleared his throat as he approached, getting the attention of the two.

“Thank you," he said, speaking on behalf of the villagers. “Sorry for the lukewarm reception; we aren't used to having visitors here, so far from the main road."

“That is understandable," the Wizardmon stated, using his staff to tip his hat. “I'm just glad we happened to be passing through"

“Indeed. It was a most opportune time," said the Sorcerimon.

“Not for nothing, but, what are you guys doing here?" Maverick asked. “Nobody comes to this town; there's nothing here anybody could want."

“Just passing through," the Wizardmon replied. “We were on our way back to our master after an errand. We thought we could take a shortcut going directly over the hills. We nearly missed your village entirely, until we heard someone crying for help."

“I see," said Maverick. “And who's your master?"

“Master Nagata," replied the Sorcerimon, in a tone that suggested he didn't expect them to know who he was talking about.

The Wizardmon was about to add his piece when Maximus spoke. “That hermit from down in the Mirelands?" he asked, curiously.

The Wizardmon blinked in surprise. “You know him?"

“He comes to town on occasion," replied Maximus. “Buys charcoal and occasionally stuff from the gatherers. I'd never heard of him having any students though," he added, curiously eyeing the pair.

“We just started, a week ago – maybe more," the Sorcerimon offered. “We used to be students at the academy in the Holy Citadel, to the east. You know it?"

“We do," Maximus replied with a nod.

“One of our instructors told us to seek out a… Taomon, I think he called them? Yes, one in the Mirelands, who could teach us, help us master our spellcraft," the Sorcerimon continued.

But to the dismay of the two wizards, Maverick laughed, and even Maximus cracked a smile. “What is so funny?" the Wizardmon inquired.

“Nagata's not a Taomon," Maverick stated. “He's a Doumon; the dark counterpart."

The Sorcerimon looked embarrassed, a faint blush visible over the folds of his turtleneck. “Oh…" he said.

“So… When did he start taking apprentices?" Maximus asked. “He always struck me as something of a recluse."

The two mages glanced at each other briefly before the Wizardmon spoke. “We… Had a recommendation from one of our professors," he replied. “An old friend of his, from his academy days."

“That curse-weaver served in the academy?" Maverick asked.

“Maverick!" Maximus scolded him.

“What? It's true," Maverick returned.

“The academy does still have dark-type Digimon studying there, as students," the Sorcerimon stated. “Would it not stand to reason that another dark attribute Digimon would be better suited for teaching them?"

“Exactly," stated Maximus, chiding his brother for his lack of tact.

“Hey, that doesn't change that what I said is fact," Maverick retorted, crossing his arms and glaring at his brother.

“Yes, well," said Maximus, clearing his throat. “Getting back on topic, thank you for your assistance," he directed his gratitude to the brothers. “Might we know your names?"

“I am Caram," the Wizardmon said, “and this is my twin brother, Raist."

“A pleasure," the Sorcerimon said, tipping his hat with his free hand.

'Twins, huh?' thought Maximus, intrigued.

Digimon twins were an uncommon occurrence, usually brought about by two Digimon emerging from the same Digitama – or, Digi-Egg, to some. Such occurrences were exceedingly rare. Even he and Maverick had emerged from separate eggs, but their eggs had formed and hatched from the same nest at the village of beginnings, hence their becoming siblings. For Caram and Raist though, they would've had to not only come from the same nest, but the same egg. The connection between them would run deeper than Maximus could fathom.

“Nice to meet you, Caram and Raist," said Maximus. “Thank you again for assisting us. Woodmon attacks happen frequently in this region; I guess they think of us as some sort of invaders, when we're cutting down their non-sentient cousins."

“I suppose I can understand the confusion," Caram remarked.

At that, Maximus frowned, turning on his heel to look into the woods where they had come from. “Still… This was unusual," he said. “Maverick and I discussed this back in the woods, and it's still troubling me."

“What's that?" Caram asked.

“The fact that one came this close to the village," Maverick added. “We clear-cut our usual area to the east, and just started on this side while the old site regrows. Woodmon, though, never come this close to the village; we're only a few minutes away from the edge of town, where the sentries could have heard the struggle and come running. My brother and I being here was just good luck for the foresters."

Caram and Raist glanced at each other, and shrugged simultaneously before Raise offered his thoughts. “Maybe this one was just a little bolder than the others," he said.

“Maybe… Or something chased it toward us," Maximus suggested, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “I'm more concerned about what that something could be for now.

He looked over his shoulder. “Maverick. I'll be right back," he said, spreading his wings and jogging ahead to gain some momentum before taking to the air.

Maverick, cupping his hands around his mouth, called after him. “Where you going, bro?"

“Hopefully, nowhere! I won't be long!" Maximus called back as he started flying west, soaring over the trees until he was gone from sight.

Maximus knew something was amiss the moment he saw the first fallen tree. Fallen trees weren't uncommon; nature still ran its course, even in the Digital World. But Maximus had almost missed this one in the fading light; with sundown only minutes away, the dimming sky had played tricks on his vision. Still, something about the tree caught his attention: despite being on its side, it still carried a full canopy of green leaves...

With that thought, Maximus landed and crouched beside the tree, squinting into the deepening shadows pooling along its trunk. Running his fingers along the bark, he felt the first of the slash marks—straight cuts, narrow on one side where something sharp had first pierced the surface. Some narrowed again as they passed through, others left blunt ends where the blades had stopped and fallen or been pulled out. He ran his fingernails through the grooves, feeling a sense of unease as he wondered what could make such indentations in tree bark.

Except, there were no fragments or discarded blades lying on the ground… The tree had been hacked apart, close to the base of the trunk, but it didn't look like the work had been the result of an axe. The cuts across the trunk were surgical—too clean for any axe. But the collapse itself...

Running his hand over the trunk, Maximus found several long, deep cuts in the wood, crossing where the same blades had made a second cut, bringing the tree down. Again, the cuts were clean and even, but not consistent with the cuts on the trunk; these had been inflicted by much larger blades.

Standing from his examination of the tree, Maximus paced slowly through the grove, eyes scanning deeper into the forest. More slashes, some gouged high in the trees—too high for most ground-based Digimon that might live in this region, cut through the bark in chaotic patterns. In one spot, he noticed claw marks that stopped abruptly halfway down a trunk, like the attacker had simply vanished mid-lunge.

The air had grown colder. Not in the usual nightfall way, but like stepping into a place the sun couldn't touch. Even the wind had died. The birds, the insects—gone. Only the faint creak of swaying branches remained.

Maximus frowned, glancing skyward. The canopy overhead was still tinged with the fading hue of dusk, but the forest below was sinking fast into shadows.

"...No scorch marks. No debris. Woodie ran, but he didn't look like he'd even fought back." His voice came out low now, cautious. “Whatever was here, it wasn't fighting—it was hunting."

A low gust brushed past him. Cold. Wrong. The silence pressed in tighter. No birds. No insects. Just the faint creak of swaying branches—like something holding its breath.

And then, the howl.

It rolled through the trees—not loud, but piercing. Measured. Like it didn't need to roar to be terrifying. The kind of sound that didn't just echo—it crept.

Maximus tensed, every muscle going still.

He knew now that was no longer alone.

He raised his fists, partially opening his wings in preparation for a quick escape if he needed it. He heard a stick breaking nearby, followed by a deep, animalistic growl. Fixing his gaze in that direction, he watched, waiting, as a canid form slowly stepped into view.

The first thing he saw was a leg stretching out from the darkness beneath the trees—a long, sinewy forelimb, built for speed and silence. But what froze him in place wasn't the shape, but the way it ended: not in claws, not in a paw, but in blades.

Each digit tapered into a long, hooked knife—metallic, cruel-looking, and curved like a raptor's talon. As the creature stepped forward, the blades dragged faint grooves into the forest floor. Around the paw, crescent-shaped razors jutted outward from the sides, and one long spike rose between the toes like a central fang. Maximus couldn't even tell where the flesh ended and the weaponry began—it was as if the limb was a weapon.

Then, it raised its head.

A lupine face emerged from the gloom—angular, sharp, and entirely focused forward. Its eyes were hidden behind a pair of bat-like wings that fanned out from the sides of its head, veiling its vision like a hunter wearing a ritual mask. Another set of smaller wings wrapped around its neck like a mantle, partially pressing down the pale ruff of fur that bristled there.

The rest of its body was sheathed in soft purple fur marked with crimson symbols, the patterns stylized like bats mid-flight. Both front and hind limbs ended in those same deadly blade-like claws. Its tail swayed behind it, bushy and tipped in pale white, like a quiet signal against the dark.

Maximus felt a name crawl out from his memory, half-whispered like a warning: Sangloupmon—a vampiric Dark Animal Digimon known for stalking its prey in silence... and striking before it could scream.

No wonder that Woodmon was running, Maximus thought grimly.

In the back of his mind, the pieces fell into place. Sangloupmon hadn't been chasing that Woodmon—it had been fighting someone else. Another Woodmon, maybe. Or some other poor soul who'd stumbled into its territory. That explained the slash marks, the torn trees, the eerily silent clearing. Whatever Digimon had faced this thing… hadn't walked away.

The Sangloupmon growled. The wings shielding its face twitched—and then parted.

Twin red eyes stared out at him, glowing faintly, devoid of pupils or mercy. Hunger radiated from them like heat off metal. It fixed its gaze on Maximus for a single, chilling heartbeat—then the wings snapped shut again, masking its expression. Its head lowered. A line of drool traced down one fang as it stepped forward, blades crunching softly into the forest floor.

Maximus tensed. This thing wasn't just a wild Digimon—it was a predator, a shadow with fangs. He couldn't let it vanish back into the woods. If it found another village... another child...

No.

His fists clenched. Even without Maverick here, he couldn't turn away.

“This ends now," he muttered, grounding his stance.

The Sangloupmon, sensing his intent, let out a low snarl. Then, without raising its voice, it whispered its first attack—“Sticker Blade."

With a flick of its forepaws, hundreds of razor-thin blades exploded outward, whirling through the air like a storm of needles.

“Spinning Lariat!" Maximus shouted, launching into a rapid spin. Wind spiralled around him as his body blurred, hardened skin deflecting the incoming blades. One by one, the metal shards sparked and disintegrated against the force of his rotation, falling to the forest floor as harmless flecks.

So that's why I didn't find any earlier, Maximus realized. They don't last after impact.

As the last blade clattered away, Maximus halted his spin, wobbling slightly as the dizziness caught up with him. He clenched his jaw, pushed through it—and the crest on his chest lit up with energy.

“Vee Laser!" he roared, unleashing a focused beam of light straight at his target.

“Black Mind." The voice was a whisper in the dark—and then the wolf was gone. Sangloupmon vanished into the trees, its body swallowed by the shadows.

Maximus' laser tore through the clearing, lighting up the darkness—but hit only bark and moss as it struck a tree behind where the predator had been. The flash faded, leaving nothing but scorched bark... and silence.

“Where the—?" Maximus muttered, spinning on his heel, expecting the attack to come from behind. Nothing. He pivoted again, scanning the treeline, trying to stay ahead of the next strike.

Then came the voice. Low. Raspy. From above.

“Drain Slash."

His head snapped up.

The Sangloupmon was descending like a falling star, forepaws outstretched, the blade-gauntlets on its legs glowing with sinister light.

Maximus let out a startled yelp and dove sideways, just as the wolf's claws slashed through the space he'd been standing in. The ground cracked where the attack landed.

“Hearty Shatter!" Flames gathered in Maximus's mouth, and with a roar, he spat a fireball straight at the predator. The Sangloupmon tried to twist away—but the blast clipped its side, exploding in a burst of fire.

The dark Digimon yelped, tumbling sideways and hitting the ground hard.

“Got you!" Maximus grinned, bracing for a follow-up—

“Sticker Blade!"

Maximus froze. That voice… It hadn't come from the Sangloupmon in front of him. His eyes widened.

There's another one.

Maximus barely had time to turn before pain erupted across his back—

A swarm of tiny blades struck him from behind, embedding themselves in his skin. He stumbled forward, teeth clenched against a howl of agony as it felt like the shards were burrowing deeper with every step.

“Nngh—!"

The second Sangloupmon lunged. Fangs bared. It slammed into him, knocking him onto his already wounded back. This time, the scream broke loose—raw, primal, and loud enough to echo for miles.

Then came the bite, and he screamed again – louder than he ever had in his life.

Burning pain flared through his neck as the creature's fangs pierced deep. Maximus thrashed beneath it, slamming fists into the predator's side, but the Sangloupmon didn't budge. Its weight pinned him down, cold and relentless.

He could feel it—his data being siphoned, drawn out of him like breath in winter. For a Digimon, it was more than just pain. It was essence. His vision blurred. His blows weakened, but he could still see the creature's form grow heavier, denser, as if absorbing not just strength, but mass. Maximus's limbs flailed, then faltered. He tried to summon another attack, but no energy answered the call.

And then—another presence.

The first Sangloupmon returned. Without a word, it sank its fangs into his arm.

Maximus gasped, body jerking. He could feel his data unraveling between their teeth, threads of himself torn loose. Weakness overtook him like a rising tide.

He tried to cry out again—

But the voice was gone.

'Maverick…' he thought, feeling a tear in his eye as he silently apologized to his brother, whom he would never see again, nor would he ever know what happened to him…

He began to fade, his vision darkening…

The roar seemed to split the air, as suddenly Maximus felt the weight of the two Sangloupmon pulled from him, their fangs nearly breaking as something lifted them both off him. The roar came again, followed by the yelps of the two canid Digimon, as they were thrown into the trees.

Bleary-eyed and weakened, Maximus summoned all of the strength he could muster to roll onto his side, lifting his head to try to see what was happening. He could only make out blurry shapes, recognizing the purple blobs as likely being the Sangloupmon – both of them, fighting with a third, larger form… A blur of blue and white.

“Maverick?" Maximus rasped, blinking repeatedly until his vision finally cleared, and he saw he was right. “Bro! It's you!"

Maverick – as indeed it was, didn't answer, focused on the battle. One of the Sangloupmon tried to attack him with Sticker Blades, but the tough hide of the Veedramon withstood the relatively weak attack easily. In retaliation, Maverick lunged at the offending beast, and delivered an uppercut that send it airborne, wheezing in pain and flailing its limbs.

The other lunged, calling out a Drain Slash as it tried to attack Maverick from behind. The Veedramon looked behind him, and swung his hips to lash out with his tail, the thick appendage striking the pouncing hound like a swinging log, and sending it hurtling through the air with a yelp.

“Stay away from my bro, you data-sucking dingos!" the Veedramon growled, smoke trailing from the corners of his mouth.

Both of the Sangloupmon, despite how battered Maverick's attack had left them, rose to their feet. With the strength that they had managed to steal from Maximus, they were still able to fight. Maverick bared his teeth at them, slapping the ground with his tail and hunching as he stood his ground, keeping himself between the two vampiric hounds and his brother.

The two of them whispered Drain Blade as they rushed at the Veedramon. In response, Maverick prepared a V-Nova Blast, letting the two hounds rush him before firing the heat beam in a semicircle in front of them, forcing them to stop their charge to avoid the attack. With that, Maverick turned and ran over to Maximus, quickly picking him up and throwing him over his shoulder before he started to run.

“If those wings of yours are still working, bro, now might be the time to start flying!" Maverick cried.

Maximus tried to extend his wings, but the limbs shook and fell over his shoulders uselessly. “C-Can't," he rasped. “Too weak… They… Drained me…"

“Well, crap!" Maverick growled. “Can you see them – are they behind us?"

As though in response, Maverick saw movement ahead of him, as one of the Sangloupmon suddenly sprang out of the shadows of the trees, lunging at him. Maverick skidded to a stop, narrowly avoiding the lunging hound and nearly losing his balance.

“They can… move through shadows," Maximus warned.

“Now he tells me!" Maverick growled, turning on the Sangloupmon and lifting one of his arms from Maximus' leg. “Cutting Shoot!" he yelled as he swung his large claws at the air, sending four cresent blades of sharp, condensed air at the Sangloupmon.

The vampiric hound ducked, barely avoiding the attack. Behind it, a tree was rent by the condensed air blades, creaking ominously as it fell onto the oblivious hound who howled in pain as the tree fell on him.

Hearing its kin cry out, the other Sangloupmon emerged, snarling as it ran at Maverick, successfully flanking him and pouncing him, where it sank its teeth into his left shoulder. Maverick snarled and dropped Maximus, the ExVeemon falling unceremoniously to the ground in a heap while Maverick struggled with his attacker.

Pulling the Sangloupmon off, Maverick threw it to the ground and discharged another V-Nova Blast from his mouth, searing the creature's flank while also sending it hurtling through the woods, a howl of agony the last sound they heard from it before it was hurled out of sight.

“Did you… Kill it?" Maximus asked, having managed to push himself up on his hands.

“Not hardly; I'd be absorbing its data by now if I had," replied Maverick, moving to help his brother again. “Come on; those two mage bros are still in the village – if I get you to them, maybe they can-"

“Kaiser Nail!"

Maverick looked up as he heard the attack being called, and saw a red, glowing shape arcing toward him; an X-shape, like two crescent blades forming into a single entity, cutting through foliage as it approached. Maverick lunged, grabbing Maximus and rolling out of the way – almost. He felt lightning arcing up his back, and tumbled with his elder brother hugged tightly against his chest before coming to a stop.

Maverick released Maximus, who coughed from being hugged so tight, and looked up as Maverick stepped over him. It was there he saw what the Veedramon had snarled about just a moment before, when he saw the stump at the end of his tail; it had been sliced clean through by the attack, particles of data leaking from it and the lost tip in question, slowly dissolving into code where it had fallen.

“M-Maverick!" Maximus rasped, his voice conveying his fear despite his weakened state.

Maverick didn't look back, his attention focused solely on the figure emerging from the trees ahead of them. The figure was bipedal, lithe, standing taller than Maverick. Two disproportionately long arms swung at its sides as it walked, slowly coming into view. Like the Sangloupmon, it was canid, but covered in black fur with white highlights and lacking any bat-like motifs.

The creature wore spiked knuckles over it left hand, and was clad in a leather harness with a shoulder pauldron, and a pair of camo trousers on its legs, with an imprint resembling a skull and crossbones over his left thigh.

Maximus lifted himself enough to look at and study the newcomer… A WereGarurumon? No, a Black WereGarurumon – the Virus-type counterpart. Just like the Data-type lupine it resembled, when it had evolved to its Ultimate level, it had sacrificed speed for fighting prowess. Of course, the loss of speed paled in comparison to the sheer strength of the new body…

The black-furred werewolf wore a savage smile as he approached Maverick, walking with its head held high and no concern for the snarling Veedramon ahead of him. Maximus knew his brother didn't have a chance against an Ultimate-level Digimon in a straight-up fight; not alone… But try as he might, his body was still too weak to stand.

“Maverick… Get out of here!" Maximus pleaded with his younger sibling.

“Not without you, Max!" Maverick defiantly refused, glaring at the Black WereGarurumon. “Come another step, and we're going to have problems, hairball!"

The Black WereGarurumon stopped walking, but never lost its grin as it regarded Maverick, lifting a paw and making a beckoning motion at him. “By all means," they said in a deep, gravelly voice. “Show me what you've got, Veedramon."

Ever the one to have more strength than sense, Maverick took the invitation despite his brother's protests, rushing at the werewolf with a roar. “Magnum Punch!" he bellowed as he drew back his arm and swung.

“Baldy Blow!" the Black WereGarurumon responded in kind, swinging its large, spike-clad fist in turn.

The two fists met in full swing, colliding with an audible report. A shockwave erupted from where the two punches met, causing the leaves above to shudder from the explosive wave. But it was Maverick who recoiled, clutching his hand painfully, multiple lacerations having opened in his knuckles. His opponent came at him again, snarling gleefully as he punched Maverick across the cheek with his other hand, and then drove the spiked knuckles into his stomach.

Maverick wheezed as the air was forced from his lungs. Then, the Black WereGarurumon sprang into the air, and spun himself with his leg outstretched, delivering a spin-kick to Maverick's face and sending him careening and tumbling into a tree, miraculously managing to stay on his feet.

The Black WereGarurumon let out a chuckle. “Tougher than you look, I'll give you that," he said in a mocking tone.

“Just getting started, pal," Maverick returned defiantly.

Maximus desperately tried to get to his feet, his heart thundering in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. Damn it, Maverick, why didn't you listen?!' he demanded in his mind, knowing his brother was doomed against an Ultimate-level Digimon by himself.

Maximus looked up as he heard Maverick grunting in pain again, and saw – to his horror, the Black WereGarurumon was beating the Veedramon to a pulp, having forced him against a tree and repeatedly punching him, every swing the strike of a hammer, bruises flowering across Maverick's body as the Veedramon defiantly stayed on his feet, occasionally managing to make a swing of his own only to miss and receive another muck or kick.

Finally, his opponent jumped away, and then sprang into the air in a somersault, stretching out his leg. “Full Moon Kick!" he howled as the leg came down on Maverick like the swing of a sledgehammer, striking hard on top of his head and sending the Veedramon face-first into the ground in a plume of dust.

Maximus' eyes widened in horror, the name of his brother dying on his lips as he tried to call out to him. As the dust cleared, he saw the Black WereGarurumon standing on Maverick's back, the Veedramon finally unable to fight on.

“Should've listened to your brother, scales," the werewolf growled, raising his paw and flexing the long claws. “Not that you could've outrun me anyway."

A surge of power, wrought of desperation, seemed to burst forth from Maximus core, the crest on his torso glowing brightly as he conjured the most powerful Vee Laser he could muster. The Black WereGarurumon saw the glow from Maximus out of the corner of his eye, and started to turn to look at him…

Only to be forced off Maverick as the beam struck, letting out a howl that was a mix of both surprise and pain as he was blown off the Veedramon, and sent slamming into a tree back-first, winding him.

With teeth bared, the Black WereGarurumon raised his head, his attention now on the ExVeemon that he had thought to be removed from the fight. “Why you…" he growled, stepping away from the tree and brushing himself off.

Maximus felt his strength leaving him again; his knees wobbled, losing his footing and causing him to sink to them, catching himself on his hands and panting heavily. His body felt as though it had gained a hundred kilos, struggling to keep himself upright.

At the corner of his vision, he saw the large footpaws of the Black WereGarurumon, shakily lifting his head to look up at him. Behind him, the moon shone brightly in the sky, silhouetting him in darkness as he leered down at the ExVeemon. He lunged at him, grabbing him by the throat and picking him up off the ground.

“That… Hurt!" he growled before he turned and threw Maximus. The ExVeemon was sent careening into Maverick, who was just getting to his feet when his brother collided with him, knocking them both down again.

The werewolf Digimon advanced again, but this time not alone. Out of the trees came the pair of Sangloupmon from before, flanking him on either side. “I should let my boys here feed on you," he said coldly, “but you know… I think I'd rather take your data for myself."

The two Sangloupmon looked up the Black WereGarurumon, both barking in protest, but a snarl from him silenced both of them, both taking a frightened step back from him. With that, he turned his attention back to the brothers, eyeing both of them menacingly as he took another step close to them.

“I'll make it quick and painless," he said, in a tone that suggested he had no intention of doing either…

“C-Come on… Bro, we have to…" Maverick struggled to say, trying to lift himself and Maximus to their feet.

“Too… Drained," Maximus rasped.

He had put everything he'd had into that last attack… As it was, Maximus was only remaining conscious due to adrenaline, but it wasn't enough to keep him fighting. Maverick was in better shape, but still battered by the beating he'd taken from the Ultimate-level Digimon before them.

Just as they saw the Black WereGarurumon raising his claws to attack, beginning to utter 'Kaiser Nail' again, another voice rose from the darkness, drowning out his voice and catching his attention.

“Drowning Aquarius!"

A rumbling suddenly filled the woods… The sound of rushing water. To the complete surprise of everyone, a wave of rushing water erupted from the darkness, cascading between the tree trunks and crushing foliage as it rushed toward the three hounds.

“What the-?!" the Black WereGarurumon shouted, before he and the Sangloupmon turned to try to run.

They weren't fast enough; the wave caught them; the three hounds howled in surprise as the wave picked them up and carried them further into the woods. Yet Maverick and Maximus could only look on in dismay; the wave, somehow, had completely missed them, seemingly steered around the two entirely.

As the wave receded, and the roar of rushing water at last abated. “Oye! What just happened?" Maverick demanded.

“Hey!" someone called out. “Over here!"

The brothers turned to see a figure waving at them. It took them a moment to recognized the figure in the darkness, barely making out the outline of a pointed hat and cape.

“Over here!" Caram repeated. “This way; hurry!"

“It's one of those two wizards again," said Maverick.

“Let's… Go to him," Maximus urged.

“Can we trust him? We never saw those hounds before those two showed up."

“Do we have a choice? Besides, who do you think made that wave that just saved our scales?"

Maverick huffed, having no refute to Maximus' words. “Alright, but looks like you can't walk, so…"

Without another word, he hoisted Maximus over his shoulder once again. The ExVeemon had to suppress his indignity at being handled in such a way, knowing that it was necessary. He grunted as Maverick began to run, feeling his shoulder thumping into his gut whenever he bounced.

“Take it easy, bro!"

“Suck it up, Max!" Maverick returned.

The two reached Caram, just in time to see Raist stumbling into view, leaning on his snowflake-tipped staff. Caram cast a concerned look at his twin, but Raist hastily waved it off, before Caram addressed the brothers again.

“You two okay?" he asked.

“We'll be fine. How'd you guys find us?" Maverick demanded, suspiciously.

“Maybe better we discuss that later," Caram stated, “those hounds will be back."

“B-Back to the village," Maximus forced the words out. “Hurry…"

Maverick looked like he wanted to argue, casting a glance at Maximus, but thought better of it when he saw the state Maximus was in. “Okay, bro," he said, and then addressed the twins. “Follow me!"

With that, the three were off, running through the woods as quickly as they could manage…

Meanwhile, three Digimon – drenched from the wave that had carried them away, lifted themselves from the ground at the edge of the woods. The two Sangloupmon shook themselves, flinging water from their furred forms, while the Black WereGarurumon sat up and ran a paw down his face, flinging away pine needles and dirt that had been caught in his fur.

He let out a low growl as he looked back in the direction of their quarry, faintly seeing the fleeing forms as they fled. “Run as far as you want, meat," he growled as he stood. “No one escapes from me…"

Looking over his shoulder, he addressed the two Sangloupmon. “Basker, Barghest!" he barked at them. “Pick yourselves up, you dirty dogs."

He ignored the collective glare of the pair, made easy by their eyes still being concealed by the bat-like wing protrusions that covered them, while the Black WereGarurumon looked back up the way they had been cast again. “We got a hunt to get to," he concluded. “I think, for this, we ought to bring a few others in on the fun, too," he added with a dark chuckle.