Sleeping in Nagata’s home proved no more restful to Maximus than sleeping in own bed… His dreams remained troubled with the memories of the attack on his home, hearing the howls of the pack of wolf Digimon, descending upon his home.

Even if he had not been there to see it, he could still picture it in his mind; the snarling, howling, biting predators running out of the woods upon an unsuspecting community… He could almost hear the cries of unsuspecting Veemon as they became prey to a horde of ravenous wolf Digimon…

But the nightmare always ended the same… With the death of his brother, Maverick, at the claws of Talbot.

That moment, Maximus was sure he would never forget.

He awoke, feeling his cheeks moist and his eyes stinging… Sniffing, he rubbed his eyes and sat up from the roll-out bed he had slept on. He sat there, staring at the blanket covering his knees in silence, before he caught a smell…

Miso soup?

His stomach let out the loudest growl he had ever heard it make in his life. He became acutely aware of the deep, empty feeling, and he couldn’t keep himself from groaning as he rested his hands on his abdomen, remembering that he hadn’t eaten anything the day before…

In fact, he hadn’t even eaten anything the day before that either. He thought back, and recalled the last meal he’d eaten had been with Maverick on their lunch break, the day before the attack…

That, he realized, had been almost three days ago.

“Good grief, I’m starving…” he said to himself…

The smell was torture to him… He turned in the direction of the smell, and saw Caram sitting by the fire, absent his hat – which was hanging on the wall nearby. Before him, a pot hung over the flames, and he stirred the contents with a ladle.

Hearing Maximus stirring, he turned to look over his shoulder at the Veemon. “Good morning,” he said.

“Hey,” Maximus returned flatly, hesitating to ask before another growl sounded from his stomach.

Apparently, loud enough for Caram to hear this time. The Wizardmon’s eyes widened in surprise, looking down at Maximus’ abdomen before elevating to his face again.

“Hungry?”

Maximus swallowed nervously, his mouth dry, but nodded. “Yes… And, thirsty too,” he said.

Without another word, Caram retrieved a bowl and a cup from the shelf by the fire place, holding it in one hand while manipulating the ladle with the other, pouring three large helpings of soup into the bowl before leaving the ladle in the pot and standing from the stool.

Bringing the steaming bowl of soup over to Maximus, he offered it with both hands to the Veemon. Maximus took it gingerly, thanking the Wizardmon, and held the bowl close to his face, inhaling the appetizing smell of the Miso soup.

His stomach growled again – stronger this time, like it was telling him to eat it. He didn’t care that there was no spoon; he blew on the bowl’s contents, lifting it to his lips before tilting his head back, and letting the hot soup trickle into his mouth, flowing across his tongue and down his throat.

It was the most delicious soup he’d ever had… Even knowing he might scald his tongue, he drank more of the soup, almost forgetting to breathe as he emptied the bowl. When it was gone, he let out a breath, holding the bowl delicately between his hands.

Looking up, he saw Caram offering him half of a loaf of bread. He didn’t need the Wizardmon to explain, accepting the bread with another nod of thanks, and using it to scoop up the remnants of the soup in the bowl, eating the loaf a piece at a time, until it was gone.

The food settled into his stomach with a satisfying weight, and he offered the bowl back to Caram. “Thank you,” he said, once again. “I really needed that.”

“You’re welcome,” replied Caram, accepting the bowl. “If you want more, help yourself. I made plenty.”

Maximus nodded and took a moment to bask in the warmth from the soup before looking around the house. “Where’s…” he hesitantly, before getting the words out. “Where’s your brother, and Nagata?”

“Nagata is in deep meditation in his room,” replied Caram as he poured water from the kettle into a cup and brought it over to Maximus, who accepted it with another nod. “Best not to disturb him. As for Raist, he went out to gather some herbs.”

“After that fight we had yesterday, are you sure it’s wise to be travelling alone right now?” Maximus asked, holding the cup between his hands.

“He’s not far,” Caram assured the Veemon, setting the used bowl into a wash basin, and crossed the room to retrieve his hat. “I’m heading out to join him now. I just wanted to make sure you had something to eat first. You hadn’t eaten anything at all yesterday or day before.”

So, Maximus wasn’t the only one that had noticed, and he gave Caram another nod of thanks as the Wizardmon departed. He felt embarrassed; he had never failed to take care of himself before…

He spent some time sipping the tea Caram had given him, thinking about his plans… He wanted to follow Nagata’s suggestion to travel to the Holy Citadel; having had the night to think it over, he was fairly sure that if anyone could help him, it would likely be them.

While he still came to terms with having been reverted to a Veemon again… One thought remained firmly at the forefront of his mind… The thought of Talbot, the Black WereGarurumon who had taken his brother from him, and what he would do if he ever managed to achieve Digivolution again…

If it was the last thing he did, he would avenge his brother’s death… That was a promise he would keep making until it was done.

Maverick…

It was roughly ten o’clock by the time Nagata emerged from the back room of his home – or at least Maximus guessed it was. There was not a clock in the house, and the foggy weather outside made it difficult for him to note the position of the sun to gauge the time of day.

The Doumon gave Maximus a cursory nod before pouring himself a cup of tea, seating himself on one of the floor cushions before he spoke.

“I hope you rested well,” he said.

Maximus grimaced. “My dreams are… Troubled,” he admitted. “I keep seeing it… That attack, and Maverick-” he choked on the name of his brother.

“It is natural,” Nagata assured him. “You must have loved him dearly.”

“I’d have died right beside him if I could’ve,” Maximus stated without hesitation. “Now…” he sighed. “Now I’ll never see him again…”

“You two,” began Nagata, “were you twins, like Raist and Caram?”

Maximus shook his head. “Just nest mates. We could’ve been separated. Sure, but, we hatched and grew up together,” he explained. “I became a DemiVeemon before he did, and they were going to send me to the Vee Clan Village ahead of him. I refused to go without him. So, he, still a Botamon, went with me. He Digivolved enroute, and we were placed in Avanita’s school.”

“She taught us, trained us,” he recounted. “He actually became a Veemon before I did,” he chuckled at that. “After that, he was committed to strength training… So much so that he was knocking trees down himself for the foresters before I was even ready to join him. As a team, though, we did amazing work.”

He thought fondly back to their greatest moment – the day they both achieved their Digivolution. “When we finally changed, we thought’d we take on the same form. But, didn’t work out that way. He became a bigass Veedramon, and I became an ExVeemon. I think,” he lost his smile. “I think that caused a short friction between us.”

“Why’s that?” Nagata asked, arching an eyebrow.

“He hated the fact that I could fly, and he couldn’t,” replied Maximus. “Not like I didn’t have things to be jealous of, too. I mean, he was strong. Really strong. Ever seen a Digimon ram a tree with his head and knock it over?”

“I cannot say that I have,” Nagata remarked, sipping his tea.

Maximus chuckled again. “Eventually, we buried that hatchet – no pun intended, and when we did, we were brothers again.”

Nagata, his expression never changing – not even cracking a smirk at Maximus’ unintended pun, nodded. Maximus stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge the Doumon’s mood, and failing to get any sense of what he might be feeling during Maximus’ story – if he felt anything at all.

Then, Maximus understood… Nagata had asked, just to give Maximus something to think about, besides his bad dreams. Prompting him for a recollection had been purely for the Veemon’s own sake…

And he’d been right… Maximus felt better.

With a smile — the first genuine one he’d managed since that night — Maximus nodded gratefully at Nagata.
“Thanks… I needed that,” he said.

Nagata inclined his head in response, his expression calm. “I am glad it is bringing you some solace,” he replied. Then, his tone shifted slightly; more direct now, businesslike. “Have you given any thought to my suggestion?”

Maximus sighed, his shoulders sagging. He rolled his head to the side with a grimace. “I don’t see many other good options for me,” he said. “I… already said this to the twins, though they might’ve chalked it up to a moment of fury when I said it… I don’t think they understand.”

His expression darkened as his thoughts lingered on Talbot; the one who had ruined his life, his hands clenching into tight fists as he voiced his thoughts. “I want payback… I want to find Talbot, and make him pay for what he did to Maverick and my people.”

Nagata lowered the tea cup to his lap, eyes narrowing slightly. “Revenge,” he said, the word spoken with care.

Maximus gave a small nod, but didn’t meet his gaze.

“Revenge is a dangerous path, Maximus,” Nagata said, evenly. “You need to understand that… it won’t bring your brother back.”

“I know it won’t,” Maximus admitted quietly. “But still… Talbot’s still out there. I’ll never rest easy knowing that one day he’ll do this again - hurt someone else like he did me. He may already have done so since that night… There’s no way for me to know.”

He finally looked up, meeting Nagata’s gaze. The firelight caught his eyes, making them seem to glow. “Be it for revenge, or justice… the world will be better off without someone like that. You can’t tell me I’m wrong about that, at least.”

Nagata closed his eyes, drawing a slow breath through his nose. “Nothing more that I say is likely to change your mind,” he said. “Just please, hear this warning, if nothing else.”

Maximus remained still, waiting, silently granting him the space to speak.

“There will always be a void left in your heart where your brother once was,” Nagata said softly. “Talbot’s death… will not change that. That space cannot be filled by emotional gains. And yet, the pursuit to fill it… it could consume you.”

Maximus didn’t want to hear that. Part of him burned to snap back — to tell Nagata he didn’t understand. But something kept him quiet… Was it respect? Or decency? He couldn’t say.

With a slow breath, he drained the rest of his tea and rose to his feet.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said, dipping his head to the Doumon. “I think it’s time I start moving on.”

Nagata nodded, his expression unreadable. “As you wish,” he said.

As Maximus turned to leave, he stopped, his leg outstretched to take a step before he recalled something. With the thought, he turned to look at Nagata again.

“Last night, you said you had a favour to ask me,” he said. “What was it?”

At that, Nagata’s expression turned solemn… Or… Sad, even. He closed his eyes, seeming to take a moment to gather his courage for what he was about to say.

“…If you are able to,” the Doumon spoke slowly, sadly, “be for my sister what I failed to be — supportive, and a pillar of strength when she needs it.”

Maximus blinked, recalling his conversation with Caram and Raist the night before. The two wizards had seemed genuinely uneasy when speaking of her — a Renamon, still only at her Rookie stage, yet described as a razor-focused, relentless fighter.

Yet here was her elder brother — a reclusive seal master and curse-weaver, hidden away in a bog in the middle of nowhere, speaking not with fear, awe, or even respect, but with quiet regret.

Somehow, Maximus sensed that the words weren’t only meant for her. Nagata was speaking to him, too. He didn’t understand it — not fully. And something told him the Doumon wasn’t going to explain it any further.

“I will… Keep it in mind,” Maximus promised, berating himself for the lacking answer. But he didn’t know what else to say.

With that, Maximus left the house, nearly reeling at the stink of the bog again, previously covered by the smell of incense and herbs in the house only to make itself known to him again when he stepped out. With an annoyed groan, he covered his nose and walked away from the house, looking around for any sign of the Wizardmon twins – while eyeing the surrounding woods warily, his memory of yesterday’s attack still fresh in his mind.

He had no way to cross the mire surrounding the islet without help from the brothers. All he could do was wait until they returned; a few times, he thought he saw them, but he never did, chalking it up to the shadows cast by the fog.

Finally, he saw them stepping out of the fog – or, rather, levitating over it, floating across the mire and landing on the islet. They were carrying wicker baskets in their hands, filled with various herbs and flora that Maximus couldn’t identify. When they found Maximus waiting for them, they touched back to ground to greet him.

“Were you ready to depart already?” Raist asked.

Maximus nodded. “I don’t really have any reason to wait around here,” he said simply. “Nagata said one of you could show me the way to the Holy Citadel?”

“I will,” Raist offered quickly. “I’ll take you all the way; there are a few old friends I wish to check in with.”

Maximus nodded again. “Okay,” he said.

With that, as Raist handed his basket to Caram, Maximus turned to him. “Before I go,” he said, “thank you, for all of your help. And, I’m sorry if I was ever harsh or treated you guys poorly.”

Caram shook his head. “You were in pain,” he said, understanding. “I know I got defensive a few times… But, you had every reason to be upset. Let’s just let bygones be bygones,” he set down the basket, and offered his hand to Maximus. “Deal?”

Maximus allowed himself a small smile before taking the Wizardmon’s hand and shaking it. “Deal,” he said. “Maybe, if I do decide to stay at the Citadel, I’ll see you around sometime?”

"Maybe so," the Wizardmon replied, the lifting of his eyes showing that he too was smiling.

Maximus was relieved when they finally left the swamp behind. They had to cross the marshes again; rather than use an ice bridge again, Raist opted to carry Maximus over the marshes instead of making him cross again.

Levitating with a passenger was taSurtan for the Sorcerimon, but he managed, and they crossed without incident. They had a tense moment when a Yanmamon passed under them, but to their relief the dragonfly Digimon flew by, ignoring them.

Back on land again, the pair continued eastward until they found the road – not just a travel-worn, dirt path, but an actual paved road, running parallel to a train track, both of them stretching as far as his eyes could see in both directions.

“A Locomon line?” Maximus asked.

Raist looked at him curiously. “You didn’t know this was out here?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t,” Maximus admitted. “The road, I think I did; I could see it sometimes when flying over the forest, but I guess I never noticed the rail.”

He followed the railing, noticing where it curved eastward, heading toward the mountains. “Does this go all the way to the Citadel?”

“It does,” Raist replied, nodding. “The Locomon Service travels to most of the municipalities across the Folder Continent. If you ever want to go somewhere, chances are you can ride there with them.”

Maximus huffed. “Yanno, that could’ve made shipping our lumber out so much easier.”

“What did you use?”

“Hand carts, mostly. We usually rolled the logs down the hill past the village to get them to the road where the carts were waiting.”

Raist laughed. “Oh, that must’ve made a terrible racket.”

“You have no idea,” Maximus replied with a roll of his eyes. “So… Do we just follow the tracks and that’ll take us there?”

Raist nodded. “Yes. There is a ways to go, though, unless you want to go that way first,” he pointed north, “to a town and board a Locomon.”

“Would it save us any time?”

“It would,” Raist replied. “The town is a few hours away, and by Locomon we’d travel in comfort and reach the Citadel in a few hours.”

Maximus spotted a hole in the plan easily. “I’m assuming that’s not free, though?”

Raist stood frozen as those words sank in. His wandering eyes were answer enough.

“I didn’t bring any money,” Maximus reiterated.

“Well, that would be a problem. I don’t have any either,” Raist admitted, shrugging.

Maximus sighed, deciding it was hardly worth it to consider walking back to his house to find some money – if he even had any. In either case, in the time it’d take to return to the Veemon village ruins, and then head to the town Raist had indicated, it’d surely double their travel time.

“Guess we’re walking then,” said the Veemon, putting one foot in front of the other and crossing the road, wanting to walk alongside the rail tracks.

Raist sighed and followed him, matching his steps and resting his staff over his shoulder as they walked.

~~~~~

The two didn’t have much to do to pass the time for their journey. Raist tried humming a tune every now and then. Maximus passed the time by studying their surroundings, hoping that they might see a Locomon pass by sometime, but so far the rail was quiet.

As they walked, something occurred to him. “Say… Nagata never mentioned his sister’s name,” he said. “Do you know it?”

Raist looked at him. “Oh. It’s Ashira,” he replied.

“Ashira,” Maximus repeated the name, testing it on his tongue. “You and Caram talked about how she’s much more… Hostile, than her brother?”

Raist lowered his head. “Well… Maybe we made her sound worse than she really is,” he said. “Hostile may be a strong word. She disassociates with others, keeping to herself, but when she fights with someone – even if it’s only a sparring match… Well, let’s just say she doesn’t share any of her brother’s restraint.”

‘Restraint?’ Maximus thought, appalled. Last night, he had watched Nagata utterly destroy half a dozen plant Digimon with the same amount of effort it took Maximus to break a twig. If that had been Nagata when he was holding back, he dreaded to think what the Doumon would be capable of if he was being serious.

Yet, his sister – Ashira, was even more ruthless than him? What was the Doumon thinking, then, asking Maximus to try to befriend her and making it sound like she needed one? It sounded to him like she preferred to be alone, and resented any sort of social interaction.

Nagata’s request echoed in his mind repeatedly, remembering what he had asked of Maximus. He still had no idea what that the Doumon meant… He had said to be a supporter and pillar of strength, but it sounded like that’s exactly what Ashira didn’t need.

‘Does Nagata just not understand his own sister?’ he wondered, ‘Could that have something to do with him asking me to be for her, what he couldn’t?’

As Maximus mulled over this puzzling conundrum, Raist spoke again – a sudden delight in his voice. “Ah! There it is,” he crowed.

Maximus shook his head, breaking himself out of his contemplation, and looked at the Sorcerimon, seeing him pointing at something. Following his arm, Maximus’ gaze found a great, white-walled structure built into the mountainside, surrounded on all sides by protective walls. From this distance, it almost looked like a castle keep, but he saw the walls bending over the crest of the hill upon which it rested, leading him to suspect there was more to it than he could see.

“That’s the Holy Citadel?” Maximus asked.

“Part of it,” Raist replied. “That is the White Tower, the home of the Citadel Knights.”

Maximus looked at Raist quizzically. “Wait, the Thirteen Holy Knights live here?”

Raist shook his head. “No, no, the Citadel knights,” he repeated. “They’re peacekeepers, formed from the best performing students of the Citadel and dedicated to the cause of peacekeeping and law enforcement in this region.”

Maximus gave the white tower a skeptical look. “Why have I never heard of them before?”

Raist shrugged. “They are… Relatively new,” he said. “And, they don’t actually have very many members yet. But, they’re growing, and they’ve had great success in their efforts throughout this region.”

Maximus frowned and let out a scoff. “Not as much as some of us would like,” he said, quietly.

“Sorry, what was that, Maximus?” Raist asked.

“Nothing,” Maximus lied. “How much longer?”

“A few hours. But it’ll be dark before we get there,” said Raist, “We won’t be able to see the road once the sun goes down.”

“Anything unfriendly around here that we should be concerned about?”

“Not since I was last here,” Raist replied. “But, that was a month or so ago now.”

“Could we reach the Citadel before dark if we go faster?”

“Unlikely, but, we can try.”

With that, Maximus increased his walk into a jog, pulling ahead of Raist before the Sorcerimon followed his example. Together, they ran up the path, the setting sun at their backs as they made their way up the road.

Despite doubling their pace, the sun had set before the pair reached the gate. The road curved around the mountain upon which the White Tower stood, and the castle keep remained ever in sight as a result, outlined by the glow of lamplight exiting the windows.

Unfortunately, the moon did not make an appearance that night, leaving the road so dark that neither Maximus nor Raist could see where they were going, forcing them to slow their pace or risk stumbling into unseen obstacles. Maximus nearly tripped on a fallen branch as they passed under a tree, and he took slower, measured steps to avoid doing so again.

The path around them had become lightly forested, with trees lining either side of the road and the rail line that still ran parallel. Maximus had to squint his eyes to look at the trees, noting the absence of branches below their canopies; pruned, he guessed, to avoid any accidents.

As they walked, a long, shrill whistle pierced the night behind them—a strange, alien sound to Maximus, though Raist turned toward it with recognition.

“Oh. A Locomon is approaching,” he said.

“Is that a problem?”

“Not at all, so long as we’re safely away from the tracks,” Raist replied. “It’ll just pass us right by.”

Curious, Maximus turned and peered down the tracks, back the way they had come. He could already see a singular, bright light cutting through the dark, casting its glow upon the rails as it hurtled forward. The ground trembled beneath his feet, and the rhythmic chuffing and hissing of escaping steam grew steadily louder.

He squinted, trying to look past the mounted light to get a clearer view. The Locomon’s body was made of steel, torpedo-shaped, its surface sleek and braced for power. Two clawed hands—yes, hands—rested at its sides, partially obscuring the wheels that propelled it forward. Behind the main engine, Maximus could just make out two passenger cars and a trailing car Raist had called the “caboose.”

It was Maximus’ first time ever seeing one of the massive transport Digimon, though he’d heard them multiple times. They were the epicentre of trade and travel across the Folder Continent, carrying goods or passengers as required – not so unlike actual trains in the human world.

He wondered what it’d be like to ride in one… Maybe someday, he could find out.

“Okay, back to it then,” said the Veemon. “Keep following the road, right?”

Raist nodded. “Yep. It goes straight to it. We just need to-”

“You there!”

The sharp, powerful voice cut the Sorcerimon off, and both he and Maximus turned sharply in the direction of the voice as a tall, lithe figure emerged from the darkness of the path ahead. They were outlined by pallid armour, white and a light purple in colour, their steps announced my large, clawed boots – or, maybe they were their feet covered in armour; Maixmus couldn’t really tell in the dim light.

What he could see however was that the stranger was clutching something in their right hand; something that looked like the handle of a sword, but lacking a blade. Either way, it was clearly some kind of weapon, making Maximus feel immediately apprehensive.

“A Lobomon?” Raist asked, tilting his head as though he were trying to recall something.

“What’re you doing out here at this hour?” the figure – a Lobomon, according to Raist, demanded. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is out here?”

“We were on our way to the Holy Citadel,” Maximus answered for both of them. “We didn’t manage to get there before the sun went down.”

The Lobomon looked between them, and then he snapped to attention as he focused on Raist, eyeing him with clear recognition. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Raist? Is that you?”

“Yes,” Raist replied. “And… Could you possibly be… Fenric?”

“I am. You remember me?”

“I do! You were one of the top students in the combat regiment,” Raist replied, holding out his arms as he stepped forward to greet his old classmate. “I see you managed to Digivolve too; I seem to recall you were still a Strabimon when I was here.”

“Part of why I’m surprised you recognized me,” Fenric said, moving the weapon hilt he carried to his belt, where it attached itself as if by magnetism.

“Your voice hasn’t changed very much,” Raist explained with a shrug.

The Lobomon shrugged. “I guess that’s fair,” he said.

“What’re you doing out here, anyway?” Raist asked. “I don’t recall there being a night patrol when I was last here.”

“It’s something we had to implement fairly recently,” Fenric explained. “You know about those catacombs below the citadel, right?”

“I do. What about them?”

At that, Maximus noticed a shift in Fenric’s posture. “Well,” he began, “apparently, this goes back to before you and your brother left. There’s a Dokugumon in the catacombs; she made a nest down there a while back, and apparently, she’s been spawning.”

Raist jerked as if he’d been hit. “Spawning?” he repeated, an edge to his voice.

Maximus though, didn’t understand. “Wait, how does that work?” he asked, coming to stand beside Raist. “Digimon don’t reproduce the way creatures in the human world do, even through intercourse; that’s why Digimon don’t have parents. We’re digital, not flesh and blood, so how can a Dokugumon have any spawn?”

“Some insect – or in this case, arachnoid Digimon are special cases in that regard,” Fenric stated.

“Indeed,” added Raist, “Dokugumon are one of the few Digimon who are capable of reproduction, creating hordes of little spiderlings called KoDokugumon, and can often spawn up to a hundred of them at a time. If those KoDokugumon manage to feed on enough living data, they’ll Digivolve into more Dokugumon, and continue to spread, as per their Virus-type nature.”

Maximus shuddered at that. “An infestation,” he said.

“Yes,” replied Fenric. “They’ve been attacking people out here on the road at night, so I took it upon myself to patrol for them, and eliminate any that I find.”

“How have they been getting out here?” Raist asked. “The only way out of the catacombs is the cave mouth near the observatory, isn’t it?”

“That’s what we thought,” said Fenric, “and if that was their only way out we could’ve contained the problem easily when we blocked it off. But it seems they found or maybe dug out another exit.”

Fenric turned, pointing up the road with his hand. “The most recent attack happened in sight of the walls; some pilgrims were almost to the gate before they were swarmed. Surtan ran out to try to save them, but he was too late; by the time he got there, the KoDokugumon had already fed on them and dragged away the rest.”

“He couldn’t find where they went?” Raist asked.

“No. It was too dark; he didn’t see where they ran,” replied Fenric.

“And you’re out here by yourself, when there’s a spider horde waiting to jump out?” Maximus asked, “What’s to stop them from getting you too?”

“While I do move faster on my own and I can see in the dark and hear better than most,” Fenric stated with confidence. Then, he lifted a hand to point up. “I’m not alone.”

Maximus and Raist looked up, following where Fenric was pointing; Raist had to lift the rim of his hat to see. Overhead, they saw a cat-like figure circling the forest above, too far away for them to see clearly, but enough to make out the wings sprouting from their back, and the large, clawed feet that hung below them.

“Who is that?” Raist asked.

At that, Fenric chuckled. “If I told you now, you’d probably lose your mind,” he said. “For now, we probably shouldn’t stay here. There’s no telling when the KoDokugumon might start coming out here. Come; I’ll escort you two to the gate.”

Raist nodded, adjusting his hat. “Agreed,” he said. “Lead the way, Fenric.”

With that, the Lobomon turned on his heel and started walking up the path, followed closely by Raist and Maximus. They walked quickly to keep past with Fenric, who was walking with a long stride, heavy boots eliciting metallic steps as he went.

The gate to the Holy Citadel was an imposing sight. Lined with torches that flickered like stars from the vantage where Maximus and Raist stood, the towering doors loomed high—large enough, it seemed, to accommodate a Whamon, if such a creature could walk on land. The gate was set into a massive wall that spanned the entire mountain pass, anchored on the left side by the looming White Tower they had seen for hours as they approached.

As they neared the gate, Maximus spotted the outline of smaller doors set into the grand entrance—normal-sized double doors built within the larger structure. Fenric led them toward these, and from the other side, a Digimon opened one to admit them.

The doorman was a Gladimon, identifiable by his spherical body and the knightly helmet with a lowered visor. As Maximus followed Raist and Fenric through, he caught sight of another Gladimon standing opposite the first, and a third leading a patrol of the smaller form of Kotemon. The group marched in a disciplined line along the interior wall, and Maximus watched them pass with quiet interest before continuing onward.

Given that the Holy Citadel was founded and ruled by Angel Digimon—specifically the Holy Tribunal—Maximus wasn’t surprised that most of its standing forces were comprised of Virus Buster family members. It reminded him of his own village, where every resident belonged to the Veemon line—part of the Dragon’s Roar family. They had seen each other as kin, and from that, a monocultural settlement had formed.

That thought led him to consider Fenric. Maximus had never seen a Lobomon before—hadn't even heard of them. Was he a Virus Buster too? He didn’t seem like one of the Beastfolk, despite the wolf-like name and his lupine-themed attire. His build was humanoid, and in the glow of a nearby torch held by one of the Gladimon, Maximus caught a glimpse of a human-like face beneath the helmet.

All in all, he seemed… unique.

“Raist!”

The cry came from overhead. All eyes turned skyward as a winged, feline-like form descended swiftly, landing with a solid thud before racing toward the Sorcerimon. Raist stumbled back instinctively, thrown off by the sudden approach - and especially by the sight of the creature’s large, gloved claws.

The winged Digimon was feline in structure, but only partially. Her face was hidden behind a mask that resembled a human visage, framed by jaw-length hair and marked with a cobra-shaped adornment at the brow. Her upper body was humanlike as well, clad in gleaming armour shaped to a feminine form. But below the abdomen, her figure shifted back to a more bestial build—digitigrade legs, a long tail, and sleek fur.

“Ah - easy now!” Raist warned, chuckling nervously. “I’ve had a long journey, you know.”

“So long you couldn’t even send a letter ahead, to say you were coming?” the Digimon replied. Her voice, distinctly feminine, carried the amused sharpness of someone well within her right to tease.

Raist blinked, still bewildered. “L–Lotfia? Is that you?”

“It is indeed,” she said, wings settling behind her.

“You’re a… Nefertimon,” Raist said, his voice filled with awe as he looked her over. “But that would mean-” his expression lit up. “You did it. You inherited the Mantle of Light!”

“I did,” Lotfia said proudly. Though her mask concealed her expression, Maximus, watching silently nearby, imagined she wore a wide, Cheshire-like grin. But the metallic covering gave nothing away, and her body language was all they had to read.

Maximus frowned slightly, the term Mantle of Light catching in his thoughts. He didn’t speak—but the phrase settled in his mind like a puzzle piece whose place had yet to be revealed, deciding he’d ask about it later.

Seemingly forgotten about in the reunion Raist was sharing, the Veemon stood watching, feeling a pang of envy as he saw Raist enjoying the company of old friends, speaking to Lotfia and Fenric. In his mind’s eye, he saw the three replaced by people he knew from his village… Xavier… Avanita… Maverick…

He felt his heart beating faster, and his hands tightening into fists at his sides as he continued to watch the three with growing resentment that he knew they didn’t deserve. Laughing, sharing past events, recounting happier times… All things he would never get to do any more.

From some darker corner of his mind, came thoughts that Maximus had never considered before now… ‘Any one of these self-righteous scum could’ve stopped Talbot,’ it said. ‘Or at least, could’ve helped me stop him…’

He shook his head, clearing the alien thoughts that he knew was the product of his anger from his mind. No, that was unfair, he told himself… They hadn’t known about Talbot; surely they would’ve done something if they had. They wouldn’t just let someone like that run wild if they knew about him…

“Maximus?” Raist asked, alerting the Veemon.

“Huh? What?” Maximus asked, looking up and realizing that all three of the Digimon were watching him now.

“Are you alright?” Raist asked. “I said your name three times and you didn’t move…”

Maximus, flustered, forced a weak smile. “Sorry, I… I guess my mind was wandering,” he said. “I must just be tired from the trip.”

Lotfia tilted her head as she regarded Maximus, seeing him – somehow, through that mask that hid her face, including her eyes. “You must come from the Vee Clan Village to the west, yes?”

Maximus, feeling a pit in his stomach, nodded. “I… Did, yes.”

“Did?”

“It’s gone,” Maximus replied, keeping the edge out of his voice, his anger threatening to boil over as the memories flashed through his mind. “Destroyed… And everyone with it.”

Even with her face hidden, Maximus could sense Lotfia’s horrified reaction to the news. Beside her, Fenric tensed, unfolding his arms and looking at Maximus with horror present on his face.

“How did this happen?” he demanded.

“A Black WereGarurumon called Talbot led an attack on the village,” Maximus explained, struggling to hold himself together as he recounted that terrible night again. “He led a pack of Loogamon, with two Loogarmon leading them, and a pair of Sangloupmon accompanying him as well.”

“Damn it all,” growled Fenric, lifting a hand to rub his eyes.

“Did anyone else make it out?” Lotfia asked.

She regretted the question the moment she said it, as Maximus’ fists clenched tighter, and she could see from his shaking shoulders that he was trying not to explode at her for the query. “Oh dear… I’m so sorry,” she said; he imagined her frowning behind her mask.

“How did you escape?” Fenric asked, taking his hand from his eyes.

“My brother and I were there, and managed to rescue him,” Raist answered, giving Maximus some reprieve. “Unfortunately, we didn’t manage to get anyone else out…”

Fenric turned to Raist, his gaze firm as he voiced his next question. “Where is this Talbot now?” he demanded. “We must find him and bring him to justice for this heinous crime.”

Raist shook his head. “We don’t know,” he said. “After Caram and I rescued Maximus, he and his pack moved on. We have no idea where they went.”

“Perhaps if we travel to the village, we can pick up their trail,” stated Lotfia, “they can’t not have left any traces if the group was as big as you’ve said.”

Finally, Maximus couldn’t take it anymore. “No one,” he growled, “is to touch Talbot… But me,” he said, firmly. “The rest of that pack has much to answer for, but Talbot himself is mine.”

He must have spoke the words with a sharp edge, because the other three Digimon were suddenly eyeing him as though he had suddenly transformed into something horrible. Especially Raist, who – having travelled with Maximus for the entirety of the day, hadn’t seen this side of him before now.

The silence carried on for several, uncomfortable moments, before Raist cleared his throat. “Uh… Pardon me, Fenric, Lotfia, but might there be somewhere Maximus can sleep?” he asked. “We’ve had a long journey and… Well, he needs a place to stay.”

Maximus looked up, startled. “I thought I was supposed to meet with the Holy Tribunal?” he asked. “Nagata said they could help me find my strength again.”

“The Tribunal won’t meet with anyone at this hour,” Lotfia replied gently. “Even they must rest.”

“We can put your name forward for the morning,” Fenric added. “Until then, you’re welcome to stay the night. We can offer food and—”

“I don’t have time to rest!” Maximus snapped, his voice cracking with emotion. “Didn’t you hear what we said? Talbot’s still out there. He’s going to hurt someone else; destroy more lives like he did mine! We have to find him before that happens!”

Fenric remained unfazed. “We’re not going to chase after a bandit in the dark,” he said coolly. “Especially not one who overpowered a dragonoid clan. We need a plan before we go rushing into unknown danger—”

Something in Maximus snapped as the Lobomon spoke. He felt his anger reaging a boiling point, rage overtaking reason. He launched himself into a Vee Headbutt, aiming straight for Fenric’s chest. Raist shouted in alarm, but it was already too late.

Fenric didn’t flinch. He caught Maximus mid-air with a single hand, his large fingers locking around the Veemon’s head with infuriating ease. Then, with a simple movement, he tossed Maximus into the air, as easily as the Veemon himself might have thrown a cloth doll; Maximus waved his arms frantically for purchase, seeing Fenric drawing back his other arm.

The punch came like a hammer, faster than thought. Maximus saw a blur, felt the impact, and the world spun. He hit the ground hard, skidding several meters before finally coming to a breathless stop, pain radiating from his ribs.

Distantly, he heard Raist shouting, but the words didn’t register. His mind reeled, body limp, barely perceiving everything as it happened. He felt someone lift him— Lotfia’s warm paws cradled him, picking him up from the ground, and then the soothing pulse of healing magic.

When his vision cleared, he saw Raist standing over him, his hands glowing as he cast a healing spell over the Veemon. Fenric stood behind him, arms crossed, eyes impassive.

“…Nice hit,” Maximus rasped, blinking up at the looming form.

“Are you done now?” Fenric asked.

Maximus hesitated, then nodded. “Y-Yeah… I think so.”

“Fenric, that was unnecessary!” Raist growled.

“He attacked me,” Fenric said simply.

“He’s right, Raist,” Maximus interjected, voice strained, as he stopped the Sorcerimon from berating the Lobomon further “I lost control. He was defending himself. I was the one who lashed out; that was my fault.”

Raist scowled, but didn’t argue further.

Lotfia leaned in. “Why did you attack him?”

“I don’t know…” Maximus muttered. “Something about what he said just… set me off. It was like… everything boiled up at once.”

Fenric sighed and uncrossed his arms. “I may have spoken too coldly,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. But what I said is true—we can’t just run into this blindly. We’ll speak to the Tribunal in the morning. It has to wait.”

Maximus felt his frustration rise again… but this time, he reined it in. He took a long, deliberate breath, letting it cool the fire in his chest.

“Understood,” he said at last, voice calmer.

A beat passed.

“This Talbot… he took more than just your home, didn’t he?” Fenric asked.

Maximus didn’t answer immediately. His fingers curled inward as he looked down at his hand. “…My brother. Maverick,” he said quietly. “Talbot killed him. I couldn’t stop him…”

He closed his hand into a trembling fist. “And… he took something else, too.”

“What do you mean?” Lotfia asked.

Maximus couldn’t meet her gaze. His voice failed him. Raist spoke in his place.

“He wasn’t always a Veemon,” the Sorcerimon said. “Maximus was an ExVeemon before the attack. But something happened; something that broke him. He devolved… and hasn’t been able to Digivolve since. Nagata believes his biodata may have been damaged during the fight.”

Fenric and Lotfia exchanged a solemn look.

“…Just like Ashira,” Lotfia murmured.

“Not the same, but… close,” Raist agreed.

Fenric stepped forward and knelt, placing a careful hand on Maximus’ shoulder. It was a surprisingly gentle gesture, given the power that the Lobomon had displayed not a moment before.

“We’ll do everything we can to help you,” he said. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. I know the Tribunal will say the same.”

Maximus nodded, quietly grateful — though his ribs still throbbed.

“We’ve plenty of rooms,” Lotfia added. “I can show you to one.”

Maximus hesitated. He wasn’t sure he deserved comfort yet… but he nodded again. “Yes, please.”

The inside of the Cathedral’s main hub – a palace if ever Maximus had ever seen one, felt gloomy and confined to the Veemon, accustomed to being outdoors most of the time. The corridors were dimly lit by wall-hanging lanterns, and the few windows they passed were tall, offering little to see in the night beyond the lights carried by the patrollers on the walls.

Out of curiosity, Maximus stopped at one of the windows to peer outside, remembering the conversation Fenric had with Raist when they met them in the woods.

“Which of the buildings out there is the Observatory?” Maximus asked.

Lotfia stepped up beside him, peering out the window. The Citadel grounds were cloaked in deep shadow, the darkness beyond the walls near-total. The valley outside the gate was an inky void—vast enough to hide any number of Digimon, and no one would be the wiser.

Still, Lotfia pointed toward a distant peak, barely distinguishable against the night, off to the left from where they stood. Maximus couldn’t tell which direction that was—he’d lost his sense of orientation the moment they entered the valley.

“Perched on one of the peaks overlooking the valley,” she said. “It’s accessed by an elevator near the storehouses.”

“Fenric mentioned something about a spider infestation over there,” Maximus noted.

“Ah, you mean the entrance to the catacombs beneath the Citadel,” Lotfia said, following his line of thought. “Yes, it’s nearby. We sealed that passage with a boulder to prevent the Dokugumon and its spawn from reaching the grounds.”

“But they’ve found another way out.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she admitted, frowning. “We’re still trying to locate it… without much luck.”

“Why not?”

“Searching from the air has proven useless. Whatever path they’re using, it can’t be seen from above. As for those on foot…” Her voice lowered. “They’re often attacked before they get close.”

Maximus nodded slowly, the unease creeping in but tempered by her frankness. At least he wouldn’t wake up with something crawling on him. He turned to move on—then paused, catching sight of someone approaching down the hall.

To his own surprise, he knew immediately who it was.

A Renamon—tall and lithe, with pale yellow fur and a white pattern running from her neck down her front. Violet sleeves covered her forearms to the elbows. Her piercing blue eyes, set against stark black sclera, were locked forward, sharp and focused.

She didn’t acknowledge him or Lotfia as she passed, moving with silent precision.

“Ashira?” Maximus asked, remembering the name Nagata had mentioned—his sister.

The Renamon froze mid-step.

Slowly, she turned her head to look at him. Her expression was blank—utterly unreadable. She didn’t speak.

“I… met your brother,” Maximus said, unsure of what else to say. “He says hi—”

The change in her eyes was immediate.

At the mention of Nagata, the cold neutrality in her stare ignited, becoming white-hot and venomous. Her eyes narrowed, and Maximus felt like the temperature in the hallway had plummeted for a beat. Instinctively, he took a step back, his throat tightening. For a second, he genuinely thought she might attack him.

But Ashira didn’t say a word.

She simply turned away and continued walking, her footsteps now heavier, more forceful.

Geez, if looks could kill… Maximus thought.

Lotfia leaned toward him and murmured, “I wouldn’t try that again… Not with her at least.”

Maximus watched the Renamon disappear into the gloom of the corridor.
“Agreed,” he murmured. “Let’s… move on.”

He walked, but his thoughts lagged behind. Raist and Caram had warned him about Ashira—describing her as cold, sharp-edged, and distant—but seeing it for himself was something else entirely. That one moment, just the mention of Nagata, and she’d looked at him like she meant to drive him through the wall.

Nagata’s words echoed again in his head, asking him to be for her what he had failed to be. Maximus hadn’t understood what that meant before—and now, he understood it even less.

Does she hate her brother? he wondered. Why? And… Is that why he left?’

He heard Lotfia call his name, realizing that he had fallen behind and raced to catch up with her, though she was sitting by a door. Pushing it open, Maximus was greeted by a small room, narrow but long, ending with a window on the wall opposite the door. The window sat above a single bed with a nightstand, and a desk sat halfway across the room toward the door.

“This room’s yours for as long as you need it,” Lotfia offered. “If you are hungry, follow this corridor back the way we came, all the way to the end and you’ll be in the dining hall. The kitchens will be in the next room.”

Maximus nodded to Lotfia. “Thank you,” he said.

“We will let the Tribunal know you are here,” Lotfia said, “someone will come for you as soon as they’re ready to see you. For now, I hope your dreams are peaceful.”

She inclined her head and excused herself, walking back up the hallway and leaving Maximus alone to settle in. He waited until she was gone before letting out a dry scoff—‘pleasant dreams’ hardly described the last few nights.

Closing the door behind him, he crossed the room to the bed, running his hand across the covers. The fabric was soft beneath his fingers, a small comfort that felt out of place.

Without ceremony, he turned and dropped onto the mattress, lying on his back with his head sinking into the pillow. He stared up at the ceiling in silence, thoughts drifting in slow, dull spirals.

Through the small window above his bed, the clouds had broken just enough to let the moonlight in. Its pale glow spilled across the floor, cool and indifferent. Maximus’s heart thudded a little faster at the sight. The moon was waning now—but he remembered it full, blazing in the sky the night Talbot came.

He wondered if he’d ever be able to see the full moon again, and not think of that night…

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that—lying still, his body bathed in moonlight, his eyes tracing the lines of the ceiling’s stonework. He was tired… but sleep felt distant. Unwelcome.

He let his fingers curl over his heart, focusing on the faint rhythm within his chest, as though hoping it might remind him who he was. The silence did not answer his questions, the ceiling did not offer him any insight. The bed was warm, the moonlight was gentle… yet Maximus felt completely numb.

The moon shifted position in the sky, moving the shadows around his room without him noticing. He never moved… Seeing the moon out of the corner of his eye, dark thoughts found their way into his mind. Somewhere out there – somewhere, in that dark world, Talbot was still out there… Waiting to wet his claws on another helpless victim.

Eventually, Maximus turned his gaze away from the ceiling, rolling onto his side and watching the light slowly drift across the floor as the night progressed, too slowly for him to notice but he knew it was occurring just the same. At last, he closed his eyes, letting the silent darkness and stillness of the room be his blanket. It didn’t offer him any comfort…

But at least, unlike his dreams… It didn’t hurt.