Disclaimer: Hello, don’t sue me. I don’t own Digimon or anything remotely related to the topic except a few original characters and a certain plot idea to be implemented into this fic. As always, review or else I’ll torture you to death with really lame jokes about plastic army men.

DigitalWar:

Campaign II

“Elijah!” That would be my father at 5:30 a. m., seemingly oblivious to my repeated attempts at telling him that my bus wouldn’t leave for two hours (emphasis on two hours)! “Get up! You’ll miss your bus!”

I decided to make one last bid at getting to use the snooze feature on my alarm clock. “I’m sleeping in until six thirty and if you yell at me again to get up, I’ll cut out your throat!”

He didn’t answer for about five minutes. I was just dozing off when, “Get up!” I reached under my pillow for my knife. “I’ve got coffee,” he called again.

That bastard. That sneaky little bastard. He used the “C” word on me! How dare he use coffee on me! My one weakness, my Achilles heel, my kryptonite, my first love! And he extorts it like that! It’s—it’s criminal—to say the least! I gave up looking for the knife. With no defense against a direct psychological attack like that, there was nothing I could do. I always could have turned my stereo to full blast, but the smell was starting to waft under the door crack anyway. Chemical warfare… Oh, he’s ruthless.

“Damn you and your coffee!” I got up, defeated and deflated. I opened the door and winced. Have you ever have one of those dull, pounding headaches in the back of your skull that won’t go away despite a continuous flow of aspirin? That was what I had at the precise moment that I opened the door. From that point on, my day just got worse. “You win,” I said coldly.

He looked at me for a moment before dignifying me with a response. “Are you alright?” He brought down a couple of mugs. “You look a little… pained.”

“It’s five thirty, I have a migraine,” I replied. “Shut up and give me coffee.” I plopped myself down on the couch. “Black please. Thank you.”

He handed me a steaming cup before retrieving his own and sitting down. I took the cup. God, my hands are stiff. The coffee didn’t revive me as I expected. And it did nothing for my head. “Looks like I’ll have to resort to pills for my head,” I said absentmindedly.

“Still hurting?” my father asked in surprise. I confirmed. “It’s been what, three days and your still in pain?”

“Doesn’t matter. With enough pills, anything is possible.”

He finished his coffee. Not soon after there was a honk outside. “My ride’s here. I’ll see you after school.”

“Little bit early, isn’t he?”

“Only by about ten minutes.”

“Better early than anything I suppose,” I replied.

About two hours later I was leaving for school. I took one last look through the door to make sure I had everything. Wallet, I tapped my pocket. Check. Homework and textbook. Check. I checked my front pocket.Got money for lunch. That’s everything. I closed the door and locked it tight. When I have everything, it’s not a good sign. I’ve sort of learned that over the past few years of high school.

“Damn it!” I had just forgot me key inside. That means a three-hour wait until someone gets home. Unfortunately for me, the weather didn’t look so good and I had also neglected to grab my jacket. Let me clarify my definition of “good” weather. For where I'm from, good weather means light drizzle and a temperature of forty-five degrees Fahrenheit. I don’t much care for good weather, and it looked like the day was perfect for the disgusting bad weather that plagues much of region during the spring months.

“Bloody hell.” I started down the street toward my bus stop. I stopped and turned around. The bushes were rustling. “Probably those stupid moles,” I said to myself, thoroughly annoyed.

Five minutes later I was on board my bus. That was the first thing that day that had gone right. Of course, I had been fine-tuning my technique since grade school. I really hate having to ride the bus, but it beats walking any day. Especially on days with "good" weather.

---

Lunch: the best part of going to school on a Monday is the cafeteria food. That may be surprising since most people are always hearing stories of green hotdogs that come to life and start dancing. But someone on the school board had the bright idea to give us students a break from our daily entertainment and serve actual food, pizza from the local parlor.

I grabbed my tray and a slice of the Italian delight. Most of the time my lunch period goes along with relative uneventfulness. That was not so today. I grabbed my stomach with a free hand. For the first time in my life, I was doubled over with pain. Slowly, I set my tray down and then I sat down. The feeling did not subside.

I was heaving. It hurt. I was on the floor in moments, still spewing out nothing but my breakfast. Pains were shooting up my arms. People had started gathering around me. I couldn’t take it in silence anymore. I screeched in horror as a mist started enveloping my body. Vaguely, I heard someone shouting for someone to call an ambulance before the agony completely overtook me.

---

Those who had gathered around Elijah were backing away now. The boy screamed and yelled in complete agony knowing that nothing he could do would end the misery he was going through. His arms buckled underneath him and he was on his back, having rolled over to ease the pain on his chest. Tearing sounds emanated from the fog surrounding him as his cloths started to rip. His screams died down into low growls and heavy breathing.

---

Something happened to me. I didn’t know what it was, only that I couldn’t think of anything but the pain. It died away as quickly as it had come, but the feeling of my flesh ripping apart and my bone structure changing were not without their results.

I was panting as the fog in front of me dissipated. My eyes were closed. Then I heard it. One gasp after another, one shout after another, something was causing a panic and the thought occurred to me that it wasn’t what just happened to me.

I heard one shout above all the rest. “PHANTOM CLAW!” Instinctively I rolled out of the way. I opened my eyes to see a divot in the floor of the commons.

A small, green lizard was standing above the hole. It looked at me with anger. I looked at myself as best I could and screamed again in pure fright. I was on all fours for one thing. Instead of hands, I had four paws and a thick, trunk-like tail covered in red and black scales.

The lizard moved again shouting the same thing as before, “PHANTOM CLAW!” Despite its incredible speed, I dodged again. “Stand still, demon!”

Demon? I sort of looked like a dragon, not a demon. Still, I could understand the confusion. “I’m no—arrght a demorrrghn…” I couldn’t talk strait. Everything I said wanted to come out as a growl.

“I know who you are,” it shouted at me. “If you think you can trick me with that form, you’re sadly mistaken. BLAZING FIRE!” He launched a fireball at me. The green ball of flame hit the ground next to me, singeing my forepaws.

“HELIOS FLARE!” My body lit ablaze with flames. I don’t know how it happened, but I fired myself at the creature as hard as I could. He was knocked back into a wall, burnt as well as hurting. “Wha—arrt arrgh you?”

He recovered quickly, making a running leap for me now that my flames had stopped. I dived beneath him and let him land on the table with my tray. “Demon, you won’t have my world! You’re father won’t takeover again! PHANTOM CLAW!”

Again, on instinct I pulled his legs out from under him with my tail. He landed on his back, sending an arch of black flames to the ceiling. I tried again to calm the monster. “My fharr—therrgh worrghks at tharrgh mill!”

“Don’t play stupid with me! I know where your father works!” He tried to jump me for the second time. “I’m going to do this job if it’s the last thing I do. BLAZING FIRE!!!”

I head butted him. His fireball shattered a window. “DYNAMITE RUSH!” My speed increased tenfold, sending him flying through the wall of the long abandoned cafeteria. “Wha—arrt arrgh you?!”

He was back on his feet in seconds, readying yet another burst of emerald flames. “I won’t fall for your tricks!” Flames were starting to shoot out his mouth when he spoke. It felt like he was losing control. “BLAZING FIRE!”

I jumped on to the wall. My paws must have been equipped with retractable claws, because I stuck to the wall like a cat to the roof. I scrambled up the surface and out of reach of his short-range attack. “I dorrghn’t know wha—harrt you’rrgh talking abarrt!”

“Don’t lie to me! You know just as well as I do that you’re the Enemy’s son! Demon scumbag!” He launched another torrent of flame at me. “How dare you use that form! EmeraldGreymon was a hero and I’ll destroy you for defiling his Rookie level!”

Ok, so now we have some information. I thought.He’s mistaken me for his enemy’s child and somehow, I resemble his idol’s “Rookie” level… whatever that means. That could be straitened up easily if the thing would just listen.

I made another attempt to remove the growl from my voice. This time, it almost worked. “Whorrgh’s EmeraldGreymon?” I shouted down at him.

“Like you don’t know!”

“Idon’t know!” This was getting frustrating. “You accursed fool. I don’t know what the hell you want, and I don’t really give a crap either! I’m not your enemy!” It was shocked into silence. For once, he didn’t retort with a volley of fireballs, but actually asked a civilized question.

“Then what are you?”

“I don’t know.” I started climbing down the wall. As soon as I was with in a few feet of the ground, I jumped and landed perfectly. “What happened to me?”

He pulled out something from a small fold in his scales and flipped the lid open. “Sir,” he said into the machine, “I have news on the target.”

A voice came from the other end of the line. “What happened Cotramon? Did you kill him?” The voice was deep and expectant. So I finally had the name of the creature. Cotramon. So aside from the obvious question of what he was, I knew enough to open the lines of communication.

“No, sir,” Cotramon replied.

I looked at him. “What’s going on?” I sat. It was in the same fashion as a dog would, but I sat and it was relatively comfortable. “What am I?” I had also worked out how to get the growl out of my voice. It probably had something do with the shouting festival only seconds before. “Why do I look like something out of a nightmare?”

Cotramon looked back to me then turned his attention to the communicator he held. “Azulongmon, I think he might be the chosen one.” I had another name, Azulongmon. What’s with the mons?

Azulongmon swore over the intercom. “He can’t be the Chosen one! He’s the son of the Enemy!”

“Yes, but he has Pyromon’s form! Or at least some version of it…”

“What kind of version?” Azulongmon’s voice was grave. He, apparently, didn’t like the idea of me having this body as much as I didn’t like it. “Is it a different element?”

Cotramon shook his head. “No. He’s a beast type, sir.” I heard growling and I didn’t like it. “He has his father’s form exactly.”

“Bring him here.”

I protested. “Hold on! I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers!” Cotramon looked at me again, this time with a bit of sympathy.

“Why do you want him there?”

“Zhuqiaomon will want to test him.”

“Alright, I’ll bring him. But I’m pledging myself as his partner until a suitable replacement is found.”

What? Partner? I had quite a few thoughts rolling through my head. I still didn’t like the idea of meeting that voice. And if partner meant what I thought it meant, than I certainly didn’t want to meet that voice.

Azulongmon swore again. He had a worse mouth than I had heard in a long time. “You cannot pledge yourself like that. You know what he is.”

“I also know what you’ll do to him without a partner. I’m making sure that he gets a fair test.”

“Then find him a Tamer as well. I’ll be waiting.” The communicator shut off abruptly.

Cotramon looked toward me. “I owe you an apology,” he said. “You weren’t playing naïve.”

“You’re bloody right you owe me an apology,” I spoke shortly. “Now what in hell is going on?” He advanced again, this time slower and much more peaceably than before.

“There’s a war going on and you’re the focus of it.” He walked past me and motioned for me to follow, picking up what remained of my cloths as he left. Soon we were off the school grounds.

I felt a little exposed. Something in me told me to get into the shadows before someone saw me. Cotramon wouldn’t have it. Every time I tried to hide, he would stop me and passers by would gawk and run away.

“What am I,” I asked for umpteenth time. “I want an answer this time.”

“You are the product of a genetic experiment. The Enemy started it a long time ago to try and clone himself so that he would have a successor. He was most likely afraid of DrakeAngemon.

“The project sent his data to your world and fused itself with the fetus of a pregnant woman.” Whatever I thought about my life was just thrown out the window. Cotramon continued, “Somehow, EmeraldGreymon’s data was transferred along with the Enemy’s and that’s how you got that form, Pyromon.”

So that was my name. Ok, I could deal with that. “So what does that make me? You called me a demon.”

“The Enemy is a demon from the Hell Crew. You’re his son.”

So I literally am a demon child. Wonderful, I told myself. And I’m a freak of nature. “So I’m a demon child,” I asked, stating my thoughts aloud. “That would be a good reason to be killed.”

“It would,” Cotramon agreed. “But you’re also the son of a great war hero. You fit the prophecy about the Chosen one to destroy the Enemy.” He put a claw on my back. I shuddered. “If you are the Chosen, you’ll pass the tests with flying colors.”

I thought back earlier. “What’s with all the mons? Short for monster I take it.” He nodded. “So what kind of monsters are we talkin’?”

“Digital Monsters.” Digimon. Interesting concept. Albeit it was an abbreviated form of the term, but it sufficed. In all honesty, it hit dead on. “We’re made up mostly of computer data from this world. Some of us, however, like you, have more biological components than data.”

“Fair enough.”

Cotramon looked up at the sky. It was darker than it had been in the morning. “It’s gonna storm soon,” he said. As a resident of this particular region, I knew the weather better than anyone did, including him. “We’d better find somewhere to wait it out. Digimon work like lightning rods.”

I gulped.

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A/N: Yeah, this has been a long time coming. Some of you may remember Pyromon from such classic works as 52004 (the original fanfiction version that was never finished). A slightly different version of him is being used here too.

Read, Review, and Rejoice. Remember the crack about Crazy Aunt Betty and the toxic sludge... And I was very serious about the plastic army man jokes!