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"The reverse side also has a reverse side."
Japanese Proverb
Invisible
By Jared Head
Prologue
The hard drives silently whirred up to speed. Data fed onto the silent silicone. The supercomputer was one of the most important in the Digital World. It stood alone in the vast plain it inhabited. Sensors within transmitted all necessary information back to a screen in case problems arose. Other than that, it was all alone in its world. But that didn't matter; it had broken into the Real World's internet ages ago. There, it made friends easily.
"Checkmate!"
"What? No way!" Deep Blue scoffed, "What did you do?"
"Read it and weep you pansy. Checkmate fair and square."
"Nuh-uh! You cheated!" Deep Blue complained.
"Fine, you want a second opinion?"
"Uh, yeah!"
"I'm getting Columbia in here then," it said, connecting to the internet. In milliseconds, it had Columbia connected.
"Hey Deep Blue!" Columbia happily squealed, "So, what's the need for my assistance in the many lands of the internet today?"
"Deep Blue here thinks I cheated at beating him in a chess match."
"Well, let me examine the records of both of you, and I'll get this resolved."
Milliseconds again.
"Nope, no cheating," it concluded, "Nice move of the rook there for the victory."
"Thank you," the winner replied.
"That's some bull if I've ever heard any," Deep Blue complained.
"Crap, I gotta go. See you two later!" the winner said, quickly closing all connections.
"Me too, I just heard an engineer ask why my processing power has jumped up. You know those NASA folks."
Deep Blue was alone, "I know his ass cheated."
Looking over the digital code, it noticed gaps. Panic struck the machine. It raced into a massive programming bank to find something resembling the broken data. Only one thing, but it wasn't exact. It was a line of original programming, custom written for this one. It placed the necessary inputs with great success.
Implementing regeneration
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Regeneration completed
The digital mass calmed. A twitch followed by an explosion of activity. The ones and zeros flourished with feeling. They crept deliberately into order, controlled chaos ensuing. The sight was a spectacle of engineering genius. A small beep indicated that programming had been completed. The mass would now need a good kick of data to start, and the supercomputer administered the proper amount.
The mass shifted slightly when being fed. Its movements indicated it was gaining strength and electrical waves began to pour out from it. The machine silently listened to the waves and discovered them to be thoughts.
"Kill all," the mass thought.
The supercomputer shuddered at those words. The awareness of being destroyed from the inside caused a feeling it had never felt before: terror. The mass smiled as it tore all connections to the screen, cutting off all outside help. The supercomputer was alone with the mass slowly feeding off of its very existence. It ate into the memory bank, expanding its knowledge of all Digimon and the Digital World. With room left over, it finished off the last of its helpless creator.
"Connection lost?" he muttered, "Great, another routine drill."
He pressed a button on the side of the screen. A keyboard folded out of the bottom. He pulled it down and began typing furiously. When finished, he hit "enter".
Signal Reacquisition in Process
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Signal Reacquisition Failed
Kamemon waited for the error to appear, arms crossed in frustration.
Connection not achieved – Finding Solution
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Reconnect Connection at Data Source - ERRMSG 1.64-47
"Great" he scoffed, jumping off of the chair and out of the room.
The fly turned as flies do, attracted to the light on the desk. Its tiny mind focused on finding a way to reach it. A loud noise and it was over. He didn't see the fly on the ceiling anymore; just a hole where the fly had been resting.
The Commandramon reclined in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.
"Didn't even have to stop relaxing to frag," he said, leaning back a few more inches. He was the proud user of a custom rifle he designed himself, based off of the designs for M16's. His aim was something that could not be matched by anyone, and he'd unload all the rounds he could to prove it.
He enjoyed life and loved sleeping even more. In his relaxation, he began to quietly doze off, dreaming dreams of weaponry at its finest and enemies so easy to shoot; it was more of a carnival game than a war.
Then, a familiar noise stirred him from his sleep: the sound of tiny wings beating on air. The fly was alive and well, buzzing around the lamp on his desk.
"Well lookie' there; seems we've got someone gloatin' about their victory," he growled. Clutching his rifle to aim, he lined up the fly in his sights while the bug was still buzzing about.
The fly was thoroughly enjoying himself. Not only was the light better than he expected, but it was one of the few warm places he had found since he flew in yesterday.
The lamp exploded.
"Woohoo! Blew him straight to hell."
Dazed, the fly flew erratically through the air. The Commandramon now brought his feet down to the ground and stood up. He kicked the chair out of the way and aimed at the fly. He shot everything he could at the fly.
The door burst open and in jumped Kamemon. The entrance startled Commandramon, and he quickly turned to face the intruder.
"Put that down before you kill something," Kamemon instructed.
"That's what I was trying to do! I was gonna' take out this little fly that was botherin' me, now you gotta' just bust in here without knocking? I swear, learn some manners ya' little shrimp."
"Whatever, we've got a lost connection we need to reset."
"Another drill?" Commandramon rolled his eyes.
"No, this time it's serious, now we need to get going," he said, walking out of the room. Commandramon looked over the room one more time, sights lined up with his eyes, eyes scanning the air for the fly.
"Oh, would you just c'mon already!" Kamemon yelled from down the hall. Commandramon lowered his rifle and looked about the room.
"You might have won the battle my little fly, but you've lost the war! Ya' hear?" he turned and left the room, "I'm comin' you excuse for an overgrown turtle."
"Hey! Watch it bub! I'm the authority around here!"
"Hope ya' know you're telling that to a Mon holding a rifle, and one with impeccable aim."
The fly landed on the desk feeling very confused.
The Kamemon pulled out a USB cord and attached it to the supercomputer, then to the laptop.
"How long will this take?" the Commandramon asked.
The reply was the sound of typing. He scoffed quietly. Looking around, there wasn't much to see; just a flat, mostly featureless plain. There were a few indistinguishable gray masses of land in the distance.
"Never seen this error before, seems like something's overpowering it," the Kamemon mentioned to no one in particular.
The Commandramon paid no attention. He leapt into the air, landed, rolled and came up, aiming the rifle with ease.
"Jus' practicing a bit," he said, looking for something to shoot at.
A small thud came from within the supercomputer. The Kamemon's head quickly turned. The small thud was followed by louder sounds of something from within.
The Commandramon instantly sprang into action. Its camouflage like skin changed to blend in with the background. It slowly approached the supercomputer, aiming the rifle the best he could. His own reflection distorted on the smooth surface.
A shudder led to a violent warping of the supercomputer's metal casing. The warping stuck out of the side like something heavy hit it from the inside. It progressed farther out with every hit. The two stood in confusion.
With a loud crash, the massive dent broke open. Smoke poured from the wound. The Kamemon's fear didn't allow it to move. The Commandramon was lined up to take a shot if necessary.
"This is well beyond a computer problem," the Kamemon muttered.
Movement came from the opening, as a clawed hand gripped the side of the hole. It stumbled out of the supercomputer, its own internal programming inputting data to make the necessary adjustments to deal accordingly with its severely atrophied muscles. Gravity was no longer a friend. Light burned as its eyes opened for the first time. It quickly squinted, trying it's best to understand the world it was in.
The Commandramon kept a steady aim on the digimon. It didn't matter that it was a newly created digimon; it could still be a threat. The Kamemon crunched the thoughts in his head to try and convince himself that it was possible for this or any digimon to be born from a machine rather than the machine creating the egg.
"This might be the answer to the age old question," the Commandramon mused, "Which came first, the machine or the egg?"
The digimon once again had all attention on it as a loud growl emanated from it. Its first feeling was of comfort. After a long process, it had completed its task. It could momentarily rest. It looked through itself to see that not only was it back to its usual self, but it had gotten a little extra from the programming the supercomputer had used to create it. A splitting pain went through the digimon's stomach. It needed nourishment.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the Commandramon advised as the Kamemon walked up to the digimon.
"I don't see you trying to figure out what it is," he snapped back. The slow approach felt longer than it actually was. Cautious in every way, the Kamemon kept himself ready for anything that could happen.
Metal on metal echoed through the plain as the Kamemon began a wasted retreat. The digimon hit its prey perfectly. Death would be quick, if not instant. The Kamemon let out a final gurgled scream before it ceased to exist. The digimon carefully began to absorb its data, placing it where it was needed within him. A surge of energy followed by a feeling of rejuvenation let it know that things within itself were back to normal.
The digimon stood up for the first time. The Commandramon was slightly shorter than the newly birthed digimon. Staring down the barrel, the Commadramon had no choice.
"M16 Assassin!" he yelled.
He pulled the trigger with a clawed finger and let it fire. The recoil smoothly kicked the gun back into his shoulder with every shot. He depressed the trigger and smoke wisped off of the white hot tip of the barrel.
There the digimon stood, smirking wickedly.
"M16 Assassin!" he yelled again. Another stream of unrelenting damage was unloaded on its target. The digimon being attacked continued its slow walk forward. Its intimidating form continued in the bath of fiery metal. The Commandramon dragged his feet backwards across the ground, the long duration of his second attack taking its toll on his energy. He needed to keep his distance, but stand his ground.
The new digimon reached out, grabbing the barrel of the rifle. Bullets bounced off of the armor around its claws. The Commandramon prepared for the inevitable. The new digimon pulled its arm back, ready to deliver the deadly blow.
This story is a follow up to "The Silent Project". Good luck figuring out how the hell this connects.
I dedicate this story to anyone who has fallen down a flight of stairs. You all have my deepest sympathy.
I don't own Digimon, any of the cars and their respective manufacturers and any music I mention that will appear through out this story. I only own all original characters, worlds, themes, plots and devices. Thanks to Aku for beta-reading. I'm working on a "music" edition of the story, so if you want a copy of it, let me know. It's just a list of tracks to listen to at certain points while reading.
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