Chapter Five: History 101

King clenched his fists, eyeing her nervously. He was clearly intimidated by her reputation. But he needn’t be. In truth, so many of her victories relied on that ability. She longed for the days where she had more time to pursue fighting by other means. Her World Record titles would not remain unbroken forever. And now she’d finished with the female opponents and the lightweight male opponents in MMA, she needed more of a challenge. King could provide a test for her. To see if she was still up to scratch.

Alice measured his height, weight, and muscle density at a glance to determine his reach, power and speed. This would be a battle of speed, rather than strength, if she were to play to her strengths. She slowly walked towards him, being closer before the battle started was beneficial. Without the bandages or training weights on her body, her vision was unhindered and her speed increased. Her mind flashed back, interrupting her battle stratagem.

* * *

Cursing inwardly, she bit her lip and said, “I need more power.” Alice stood in front of Charles Kayran. He was behind his monolithic wooden desk clearly meant to resemble his might but succeeded only in making him look small.
“I knew you’d come around eventually.” Kayran withdrew a tan folder and slid it across to her. “Go get this for me, I have an idea in mind for exactly how to improve that strength of yours.”
Picking up the manila folder slowly, she flipped it open and saw her target. Without Seemon, it would be a challenge by itself but Simyan’s Body Enhancing pills would more than suffice to improve her battle prowess. A Mega Level was no more difficult to bring down than a Rookie with the right preparation.

* * *

King darted at her, his haymaker coming in from the right.
Like she was made of rubber, Alice slipped under his arm, thrust her fist into his side and kicked at the back of his knee, knocking him to the ground. And then, twirling around his back, she moved to perform a headlock for an easy first round submission.
Sadly, King wasn’t going to let that happen. As soon as her hands got close to him, he gripped her by the black lycra RODAF jumpsuit she was wearing, and tossed her over his head.

Alice righted herself mid-air and bounced off the wall gently, landing on her feet. Walking towards him slowly, she teasingly asked, “So, how is it, having all these new people around you when you were an original?”
King grunted, leaping up at her. He seemed to be all might and no flexibility but she couldn’t leave room for error.

He threw a feint to her face and then brought his fist to her stomach.
Stepping back once to dodge, she saw him follow—as she thought—but now his firm balance was unsteadied. Gripping the wrist of the fist he’d thrown, she waited for him to throw the other at her right flank, which he did immediately. Slipping under it, she grabbed his right leg and flipped him over her body, pinning him to the ground in one swift movement.

Smirking while sat on top of his heaving chest, Alice saw his frustration. She felt it too, if she was honest. This had been sub-par at best for a first round. “Was my promotion to the Assassination Squad too much?”
King threw her off with a grunt and wiped his mouth.
“Or was it Cory’s promotion?” Riling him up was cheap, but she wanted to know more about him and get him to come at her with more gusto. Knowing your own team’s weaknesses and strengths was paramount to forming a winning strategy. That was why she had none and she fought alone. Without a weakness or a strength, she was an enigma that would kill before anyone had a chance to work her out.

King shook his head and sat down. “I give. Fighting you while like this is stupid. I’ll just lose.”
“Smarter than you look,” Alice commented calmly, sitting down across from him. She kept her distance, just in case.
“You want to know more about me, right?”
“If you’d allow it,” Alice said, giving nothing away. A good poker face was key to negotiations.
He spoke with a straight face and a calm tone, “I came from a good family, a happy well-off family.” His vacant stare could be misconstrued as boredom but she could see him reliving these moments. “Age eight, RODAF took me in. Age fourteen, my mentor died as the last member of the team I had grown to love as my new family.” King threw his hands out to the side lazily and sat back. “It’s not a long story.”

Alice studied him. He didn’t appear to be lying. Still, it was a tragic tale worthy of comfort. But she wasn’t the comforting type. Slowly, she said, “There, There, it’s okay.”
King rolled his eyes. “If that’s all.” He moved to stand up.

“My master died too.” Alice saw him stop in his tracks. She felt the memories bubbling up inside of her. “And my parents, along with my subsequent guardians…” Alice watched him turn back to look at her but she could only see flashes of her past running across her vision now. “All at the hands of one man.” She clenched her fist involuntarily, feeling the anger brew inside of her as she stared down at it. “It’s now my goal—my only aim in life—to kill that man and avenge them.”

King’s hand touched her gently on the shoulder. Snapping her eyes up, she saw metal all around the room warped and bent out of shape, and all coming towards her. Relaxing, she relinquished her control over the metal and then she slowly pushed it back into position.

King eyed her carefully, his brown eyes devoid of malice. “I hope one day you can let go of that. Hatred only breeds more hatred.”

Alice’s pager buzzed at her hip before she could think on his words. Plucking it from its spot, she read the message. It was time for another mission. “I have to go.”
“Remember what I said.” King walked off, picking up his bag as he left. His partner, a slender female-looking Digimon called Calmoonmon, followed him quickly.
Alice shook her head. No blockhead was going to make her stop in her pursuit. He would die by her hands eventually.

* * *

Rori watched closely as the fingernail was torn from the olive-skinned finger. Screams of agony erupted, accompanied by begging and pleading. From where she was stood, behind observation glass, Rori could tell that the new trainee was reaching her limit. However, that limit was too low to be acceptable and would obviously be ignored in favour of making her more hardy for the future.

“PLEASE, I CAN’T! PLEASE! I’LL TELL YOU! I’LL TELL YOU!” She hung her head in shame, blood dripping onto her naked body from her defeated face. Softly, her voice as hoarse as chalk, she whispered, “Please just stop.”

“Put Operative 1512 in Isolation. Torture will resume in two hours.” The intercom was like a god inside this area of Home Base. In your first few weeks, you would undergo combat training and torture training, which were the two pillars of RODAF employee’s strength. At this time, you were known by your number and not your name, it was all part of establishing the correct mentality. There was no human contact, only the intercom. Until an Operative was able to resist level five torture, which involved mental manipulation, waterboarding, physical mutilation and much more, for up to 24 hours straight you were not cleared and would repeat until you passed.

Rori sighed and walked away. She had only came looking for Aleena anyway; she knew the green-haired girl constantly topped up her torture training, being far above Rori in that respect. Rumour had it Aleena had survived to level ten, which was the maximum level of torture expected of an operative to endure prior to their rescue in a real world scenario.

Heading down the echoing metal hallways, she heard something coming from one of the office rooms. Almost everyone was on lunch break in the Office Complex at this point. Peering through the window, she spotted Talmon talking to someone who was out of sight.

* * *

Seeing Rori ahead outside one of the torture chambers, Talmon sidestepped into the nearest office room. If Aleena saw them two chatting away it’d only serve to rile her up. Closing the door behind himself, he exhaled and looked around. The rooms were so simple really. Crimson carpet, a bookcase on the left and a table on the right along with a desk and… a person in a chair? A person not wearing the RODAF uniform? Talmon froze and so did they. Then his body moved before his mind could catch up, with his paw lifting and summoning a red misty dragon from a hastily formed glyph.

The pink haired woman sat idly and held up her hands. “And what’s your name?”
Talmon fired the dragon at her, wrapping it tightly around her. “You’re caught. What were you up to?”
Attempting, and failing, to flick her hair out of her eyes, she looked at him with a bright smile. “Talmon, isn’t it? Reminds me of my own partner.”
Talmon cursed. How did she know his name? “Don’t try and trick me. Breaking into RODAF is punishable by death.” He dragged her free from the desk and over the bookcase on the left wall, thrusting her against it. Books flew onto the floor, their contents spilling open.

Her eyes, her mouth, everything about her was as cool as a cucumber. “I’m here collecting data on RODAF’s Digimon experiments.” Why on earth was she revealing her objective so easily?
“Shut up!” Talmon exclaimed, calming his breathing. RODAF didn’t do experiments.
Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “You do know that they’re infecting Digimon and using those infected Digimon to wipe out all other inhabitants of the Digital World, right?” Looking at him, her eyes softened at the corners. She had to only be around thirty or forty. “Digimon just like you.”
Talmon thrust her against the bookcase again, knocking off a snow globe, which shattered and squirted out sticky liquid over the carpet, turning it darker.
Grunting, she smirked. “You didn’t know.” Looking up and away, she teased, “I wonder what else they don’t tell you.”
“Because it’s not true,” Talmon said, growling. This woman’s lies had gone on long enough. He would take her down the hall and start the interrogation.

“Talmon?” Rori asked, walking in slowly. She looked around. “Who’s that?” Rori deftly withdrew and extended a metal pole in one swift movement. “Should I go get help?”
“It’s okay.” The woman smiled, her hand slipped out a gap in Talmon’s dragon and she waved it at them. “It’s time for me to go anyway.” Holding up a strange object in her free hand, she pointed it at the computer. “Bye!” In a blue flash, the computer sucked her in and Talmon’s dragon crashed into itself and then dissipated.

“Who was that?” Rori asked, looking around cautiously before putting her pole away.
“No idea,” Talmon muttered. Walking behind the desk, he looked at the computer screen but it was blank. Not a single item on the desktop. “And she didn’t leave anything behind,” he muttered pensively.
“Have you seen Aleena?” Rori rested her shoulder against the door, kicking her legs out to the side. “I was hoping to talk before we go away on missions again.” She pouted.
“What about?” Talmon looked up from the computer. There was nothing he could do with it now.
Rori shrugged. “Nothing really, I just heard she was an orphan.”

Talmon became steely. How did Rori know this? He had to protect Aleena at all costs. “And if she is?”
Rori smiled. “I am too. So it’s something in common, see!” She beamed. “And I bet she’ll like me more if we have things in common.” Rori bounced up. “Tally Wally, you’ll tell her for me, won’t you?”
“You really aren’t used to people not liking you, are you?” Talmon said, walking around the desk and then leaping up, sitting on the hard wooden desk so he could watch her.
“I guess not.” She slumped back against the metal door. “I had a happy childhood. Mum and dad were great! We always had lots of love for each other; and nature, of course.” Figures it started with her parents.

Remembering his talk with Orchidemon last night, he asked, “Is that when you met Orchidemon? When you were out in nature with your mum?”
Rori nodded. “Yeah, kind of. My mum wasn’t there anymore.” Rori looked down, her eyelids fluttering. That façade of happiness slipped for just a moment before she looked back up, grinning. “I found an egg, which I thought a mother bird had lost so I looked after it until it hatched. I hadn’t expected Orchidemon but I’m so glad it was her.”
Talmon smirked. She was so simple. “I see.” He hopped down from the desk and stretched. “Well, I best be off.”
“Are you going to see Aleena?” Rori asked as he walked towards the door.
“No,” he lied, stopping in front of her. “Just back to bed.”
Rori nodded and stepped aside from the door, allowing him out. “Bye Tally Bear!”

As he walked down the hall, he heard her speak once more.
“Remember, Rori, kindness is key.”
Talmon felt a twang of pain as he heard those words. Maybe he could talk to Aleena for her. But maybe Rori didn’t actually want that, was it not better to earn someone’s respect than have it given for free?

* * *

“Hey, Professor!” Aleena called, walking through the narrow hallway into his laboratory. “I know you’re in here!” She looked around, from the end of the hallway, but there was no one around. “I wanna talk!”
Simyan dropped down in front of her abruptly, flicking a pen and pad of paper from his feet to his hands as he landed. He raised a furry eyebrow. “Yes?”
Aleena was a little stunned, but she still had to know. “What is it about Taran that is so special? I’ve not been on a retrieval mission since I was a Rookie.” Crossing her arms, she furrowed her brow. Being treated like a newbie was humiliating. “And suddenly, I’m going after a stupid eight-year-old?”
Simyan laughed. “Ah, yes.” He tore off the first page of his pad, folding it up neatly and slipping it into one of his lab coat pockets. It appeared to be covered both sides in diagrams and writing. “Come in.”

Purposefully, he walked into his laboratory with his arms clasped behind his back. “Screen Summon.” He flicked his fingers at two screens as he descended the four steps to the lower area of his lab. With a quick spin, he sat down on his computer chair and the two screens stopped either side of him.
Aleena followed cautiously. He seemed very serious all of a sudden. “Well?”
Simyan slid backwards on his chair and flicked a switch on the long black work table in the middle of the lower area. A white chair popped up from the blue tiled floor facing him, just ahead of Aleena. “Take a seat.” He flicked open a pizza box on the table, which was situated on top of a mountain of papers. Snatching the last slice, which was obviously cold, he began to chew on it.
Aleena slumped down and folded her arms. “Look, I just wanted to be told. This is taking forever. Either tell me or I’m going.”

Simyan nodded, swallowing the rest of the pizza in one go. “As can be expected.” One of the screens moved to his side and he turned to it. Holding out his fingers, he waited for the holographic blue keyboard to be projected before he started tapping away and the screen came to life. “You are aware of how a Reprieve works, Aleena?”
“Sorta.”
“Excellent. A human is bonded with their Digimon partner in exceptional circumstances. These circumstances included a few consistent factors.” Simyan held up a furry finger with one hand and continued typing with the other at a rapid pace. “One, a Reprieve has only ever been known to occur in a Solstice.” Holding up another, he continued, “Two, almost exclusively the Digimon reprieved, or summoned as a false image, is not the human’s Digimon partner.” Holding up a final finger, he said, “And lastly, the Digimon Reprieved is rarely above Champion level.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Aleena said. She’d sat through several boring lessons on this crap. “Now, tell me about Taran.”
“One minute,” Simyan chided. “I just want to add that a reprieve outside of the Solstice has become more common as of late, and I’m currently investigating other factors.”
Aleena rolled her eyes. “I don’t care.”

Simyan sighed heavily. “You’ll never change.” He moved the screen, now done typing, and showed her it. “Taran’s Reprieve was above the level of Mega. It was a Jogress level Digimon. Strictly speaking, Jogress is not higher per say, nor was this a real Jogress because it was summoned in this form and not via joining two Digimon…”
Aleena zoned out as Simyan continued to drone on about the intricacies of Digimon levels, types and attributes. It was a lecture she could do without. She thought about cake, a delicious treat that they were rarely allowed in Home Base. A mountain of cake. It was definitely her favourite food. Especially when it had a buttercream filling.
“Aleena.”
She snapped her head up from the doze she was in, looking at him attentively. “Yeah?”
“I’ve finished with the lecture. You can listen again now, in fact, if I’m going to talk to you I’d prefer your active attention.” Simyan pushed back the first screen and it flew over to the wall.
Aleena heavily sighed. “Fine.”

“Very well.” Simyan held out a finger and as the keyboard was summoned on the other screen, he hit a key to bring the screen to life and show a video. “It’s grainy, but in essence…”
Aleena watched that huge Digimon fire off an energy blast, blowing up a huge chunk of the city. “It was the strongest Reprieve ever, right?”
“It exceeded the data we currently have, yes.” Simyan paused, his eyes judging Aleena closely. “But that doesn’t mean that Taran is anything to fear. He is, as you say, an eight-year-old boy who does not currently have access to his partner.”
“Will his partner become that strong one day?” Aleena asked and then the footage abruptly shut off and the screen flew away.
“Potential is the hardest thing to judge. An orphan who was not far from jail can become a leading operative of a government agency in a few months.” He was talking about her, and she wasn’t sure if he was trying to annoy her or trying to confuse her about what she was asking. “Anything is possible.”

Phrasing her next question was a lot harder than she thought it would be. “Why is he—? Why’s it so hard to—?” Aleena growled in frustration. Screwing her face up, she threw her body back into the chair and hung her arms and legs limp.
“Why are you finding it difficult to dislike him like you do with the majority of people you meet?” Simyan smirked. “Instead of throwing a tantrum, just articulate.”
“Don’t say stupid words, just tell me what I want to know,” Aleena demanded, sitting back up.
Simyan sighed. “A pure light draws shadows to it, they’re attracted to something so different, and, while they may never become light themselves, they can change, becoming brighter within them self. For some, this is a subconscious desire—something they don’t even realise is lurking inside.”
Aleena rubbed her head. This was hard to digest. “I just mean that I feel like I have to protect him. What is it?”
Simyan shrugged. “Psychology tells us that it’s beneficial to protect the next generation so they become strong and further the species.”
Aleena nodded. “So, when I make him strong I’ll be able to forget about him?”
Simyan frowned, furrowing his brow. “I don’t think it’s quite that simple. There are many factors—”
Aleena stood up, rushing back out. “Thanks, Professor.”
“We’ll talk later, I presume!” He called after her. She heard him tear open a bag of crisps and begin to munch. “Don’t be a stranger!”

As she walked out, and back towards the elevator up, she thought about it. The lift dinged and the doors slid open. Walking inside, she leant against the metal railing at the back. Taran was special, this was true. And according to Simyan, she couldn’t get rid of her feeling that she had to be there for him. So, for now, she would do her best to make him stronger. The doors shuddered shut and the lift began to ascend with a loud whirring as the dim lights overhead pulsed tiredly. If he hadn’t jabbered on so long, she could have asked about how he knew she would need the Mega Spark. Well, there was always another day.

* * *

“You’re special too, Aleena.” Simyan said, after hearing the lift move away from the comfort of his chair. A screen flew over to him and, by tapping a few keys, he brought up a surveillance feed of the lift. “More special than you or I know.” He pulled up her file on his computer and began to add information under family history, which he had been researching prior to her interrupting. Strangely, it wasn’t as empty as RODAF would have her believed. However, it had taken some digging.

Buzz Buzz!

Quickly, Simyan withdrew his mobile phone and answered it. “Matt, have you come around?”
“I need you to send me another batch of files.” Simyan sighed and tapped away on his computer, finding the folder of files about RODAF Matt had requested. “You told me before you were now collecting the files by yourself?” Simyan dragged the folder onto an email and an unknown address popped up by itself. It was a program forced onto his system which utilised a different email address each time that he had allowed, although presumably Matt hadn’t realised that Simyan could have deleted the sorry excuse for a hack long ago. “What, exactly, are you doing with all this information? Are you just stockpiling it?”
Matt coughed loudly, quickly turning into hacking and choking before he finally came back to the phone. “You could say that.” The phone line went dead abruptly as Matt began to cough again.
It was true that by Simyan’s estimations Matt must be around six-hundred years old, and yet he was still rumoured to have blond hair from old surveillance videos and Taran’s description. His exact methods of evading old age were more than just a tip for society, they held a greater mystery. The mystery behind their disappearance.