Piximon fluttered a little higher in the air, the warm golden light of his dojo flickering off his tiny wings as the children – and their new companions – sat cross-legged before him. The flames in the lanterns crackled gently, casting shifting shadows along the walls, and a hush fell upon the group as the seasoned Digimon finally began his long-awaited explanation.
"I know," Piximon said, his tone gentler now, "that you have heard something about what you're doing here. Bits and pieces, half-formed thoughts passed from one Digimon to another. Hints whispered through digital winds. But most Digimon… they don't know much. That's why I'm going to lay it all down for you now. The foundation. The truth. So you understand why you're here, and why this matters more than anything else."
The young heroes – Tai, Matt, Sora, Izzy, Mimi, Joe and T.K. – nodded slowly, expressions solemn. Only Naruto and the energetic Sparky, the latest arrivals to this digital tapestry of fate, looked slightly puzzled. Their brows furrowed with confusion, though they remained attentive.
Piximon gestured with his staff, and the air above his head shimmered like a pond disturbed by a stone. From the swirling digital ether emerged images – moving pictures, clips drawn not from imagination, but from the very data of the world itself.
"The Digital World is a mirror," Piximon began, "but not a mere reflection. It is a universe born of data, parallel to your own. Not one world, but many. Entire planes of reality interwoven, linked at certain points to the human world. When aligned, time moves in unison. But as of now…"
He paused, and the images shifted—one showed a clock ticking in the human world, and another next to it sped through hours with every tick.
"…this fragment of the Digital World moves differently. One minute for you back home… is a day here."
Gasps rippled through the group.
"So what we do here… it has to be quick," Tai said.
Piximon shook his head. "No, child. What you do here has to be right. Rushing leads to ruin. You will have time—but only if you use it well."
The scene changed again. The swirling images now showed Digimon hatching, growing, fighting. Some were reborn, their data scattered and reformed. Others were consumed entirely, their data lost.
"The Digital World," Piximon continued, "follows laws of its own. Digimon are born and reborn—unless their data is destroyed. To grow, they need data—rocks, fruits, discarded code, even buildings. But consuming other Digimon is… the fastest route. And so, chaos."
Joe raised a hand, his tone thoughtful but tinged with skepticism. "But we haven't seen that much conflict. We've passed through villages, even cities. Digimon living peacefully."
There was a smack as Piximon's stick bounced off Joe's head, eliciting a startled yelp.
"Don't interrupt, pi!" he scolded, though not unkindly. "What you saw was the result of intervention. You see, the Digital World was once wild. A testing ground. An experiment."
The next image flickered into view—a throne of crystalline data, massive and towering above all. Upon it sat no one. But a great tree rose behind it, its branches interwoven with code, cold light radiating from its center.
"Yggdrasil," Piximon said reverently, "the absolute ruler of the Digital World. It does not speak. It does not feel. It calculates. It observes. And when it deemed the age of wildness fulfilled its purpose, it intervened. It chose a handful of Digimon and blessed them with immense power."
Now the images showed brilliant warriors—magnificent figures in armor, radiant dragons with ancient eyes, beasts cloaked in elemental fury.
"The Royal Knights. The Four Sovereigns. The Four Holy Dragons. They brought order… structure. Civilization. And for a time, Digimon thrived. But…" Piximon's eyes narrowed, voice lowering. "Order does not erase evil. Not in humans. Not in Digimon."
The illusion darkened. Images of darkness spreading across the land, of Digimon corrupted and twisted, flickered one after another.
"Conflict still exists. And Yggdrasil allows it… as long as it remains contained. But the balance has shifted again."
Matt spoke next, his voice tense, his arms crossed. "Hasn't it already gone too far? If Yggdrasil cares about balance… where is it now? We've barely seen Digimon, let alone ones capable of stopping this. Most towns we pass are abandoned or destroyed."
Piximon sighed, a weight settling over his shoulders that made even his wings droop.
The fire in Piximon's dojo crackled louder now, as if it too were disturbed by the truths unraveling in the quiet gloom. The air had grown heavier, not with heat but with the gravity of revelation. The children's faces were still and pale—absorbing, processing, dreading.
Piximon hovered in silence for a heartbeat, then continued in that same solemn, almost ancient voice. "Nobody knows what Yggdrasil wants." His words fell like stone in a pond, rippling through the silence. "This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last. This world—our world—is forced through destruction and rebirth over and over again. A cycle of ruin and renewal. Even the strongest among us… even the Royal Knights… cannot stop it."
His voice lowered further. "Not even the darkness."
Gasps fluttered through the group.
"You mean…" Sora's voice was hushed.
Piximon nodded gravely. "Even the Seven Great Demon Lords—the very embodiment of digital sin—ceased their wicked ways, not out of redemption, but desperation. They too tried to stop Yggdrasil. And they too failed. For in the eyes of Yggdrasil, they were no more than corrupted code... still useful in its grand design."
A cold shiver ran down Naruto's spine. He clenched his fists, frustration creeping into his voice. "Doesn't that make it the ultimate villain, then? How are we supposed to fight something like that? An all-seeing immortal that plays the world like a game?"
Piximon's eyes softened—there was sorrow there, a weariness not born of age, but of bearing too many truths.
"It might as well be," he admitted. "Or perhaps… it isn't a villain at all. Perhaps it has a reason for everything it does. Every time the world is reborn, it is stronger, more complex, more evolved. But understand this—" he leveled his staff at Naruto, his tone sharpening "—even if Yggdrasil plays immortal, it cannot do everything on its own. That's where you come in."
He floated back and addressed the entire group now, his voice firm. "The Digi-Destined… you are not just chosen at random. You are part of the protocol. You are brought to this world not only to fight darkness… but to nurture strength. You create Digimon capable of reaching heights even the Royal Knights struggle to grasp."
"So we're… like, part of its programming?" Mimi asked, eyes wide with unease.
"Yes," Piximon said. "But not mere code. You are variables. Wild cards. You shape the outcome. This world is not a perfect simulation—it is a living, breathing realm made of data and emotion. And your bonds give rise to Digimon of unimaginable potential."
Izzy's eyes gleamed, part anxiety, part excitement. "So is this just… a simulation created by Yggdrasil to test us?"
Piximon shook his head slowly. "No, child. Yggdrasil permitted this crisis, but it did not create it. What you face now… is real. More real than anything you've encountered yet."
He raised his staff again, and the image in the air changed—no longer beautiful digivolutions or soaring cities, but a warped, crumbling temple of code, cloaked in shadows. At its center stood a horrific figure, jagged and monstrous, with eyes like voids and limbs formed of broken data.
"The Apocalypse Cult," Piximon said darkly. "A group of Digimon so consumed by despair, they have forsaken the cycle. They seek not rebirth, but annihilation. They wish to summon Apocalymon into this realm. A being that embodies deletion, corruption… the end of all data."
"That thing…" T.K. whispered, hugging Patamon close.
"If it comes into this world," Piximon said, "there will be no rebirth. No new beginning. Just nothing. The end of the Digital World and everything connected to it—including your world."
The silence in the dojo was deep enough to hear the crackling fire again—its light flickering across the young faces of the Digi-Destined, etched with doubt, fear… but also a glimmer of determination.
Tai stood frozen, his fists clenched. "What can we even do to stop something like that?" His voice trembled—not out of weakness, but from the weight of the question itself. He wasn't alone. Kari's hand was trembling in Gatomon's fur. Matt's eyes had narrowed, and even T.K. had pressed himself against Patamon, unsure.
Even Naruto was quiet. For someone who had stood against monsters, jutsu, war, and pain—he suddenly felt small. He looked around, searching for something, anything to grab onto. But how do you even punch something like fate?
Piximon's sharp voice broke through the storm of emotion. "Don't despair!" he barked, raising his staff high as if to shatter the gloom. "I didn't share this knowledge so you would crumble beneath it."
He floated closer, his expression as hard as steel. "Just because Yggdrasil doesn't intervene… does not mean it hasn't already given you the tools to win!"
The staff twirled once in his hand and then pointed—straight at Tai.
"You hold the Crest of Courage, Taichi Kamiya," Piximon said. "That means Yggdrasil has already recognized that within your heart burns the strength to face fear head-on. Now, you must prove it—not to me, not to the world—but to yourself. And once your crest awakens, it will channel that power into your partner—turning Agumon into a force no evil can withstand."
Tai's eyes widened, and his breath caught. Behind him, Agumon straightened, his eyes glowing faintly in the light of the fire.
Piximon turned next to Joe, who stood rigid, his shoulders hunched in uncertainty.
"You hold the Crest of Reliability. You doubt yourself, Joe Kido. But Yggdrasil doesn't. When the time comes, it will be your steady heart and unshakable support that will become a beacon of stability to your friends—and to Gomamon."
Joe gulped, his glasses reflecting the firelight. Gomamon looked up at him proudly. "I've always known you were someone I could count on."
Then Piximon floated to Mimi, whose expression had gone from fear to confusion.
"You hold the Crest of Sincerity. Your heart is genuine, Mimi Tachikawa. You do not need to act perfect, or pretend to be something you are not. When you are truly honest—with yourself and with others—your sincerity will unlock a power that shines through even the darkest lies."
Mimi blinked, then nodded slowly. "So I just… have to be real?"
Piximon smiled faintly. "Yes. That's what your crest saw in you."
He hovered back to the center, his eyes sweeping over them all.
"Each of you has been chosen not in spite of your flaws—but because of your core truths. The crest reflects what you already carry in your hearts in abundance. You do not need to change yourselves—you need to accept yourselves and prove those qualities in action."
The room held still for another moment, then Matt stepped forward. "So… if we prove ourselves—our courage, our friendship, our knowledge, sincerity—everything… then our Digimon partners will grow strong enough to face whatever's coming?"
"Yes," Piximon said. "But more than that—you will become beings who can choose your own fate. Not just fight evil, but break the cycle."
The fire flared brighter behind him as if echoing his words.
And one by one… the fire inside the children's hearts began to burn again.
Piximon's voice grew firm, and his small, hovering frame now seemed to loom like a giant over the group of young heroes.
"These core qualities—the traits your crests represent—are yours to discover and prove. That journey is personal. No one can walk it for you."
He let that settle for a heartbeat before slamming his staff on the ground with a crack of energy that made even Naruto flinch.
"But here—in my domain—I will teach you how to fight."
The room pulsed. A low hum of power filled the air.
"Until now, you've been lucky," Piximon said, his gaze sweeping across the wide-eyed children. "You faced digimon who were either poor fighters, uncoordinated, or too weak to truly test you. Sometimes you had the numbers. Sometimes, the raw stats. But if that's all you rely on—you will die in the battles to come."
Matt's fist clenched. Tai looked down at his Digivice. Even Naruto's mouth had set into a tight line. They could all feel it—Piximon wasn't exaggerating. The easy wins were over.
Piximon floated in front of them again.
"From today, your training begins. Your partners will be pushed to the limit. Their instincts sharpened, their reactions tuned. You will learn how to command, to coordinate, to think like warriors."
He raised his staff—and from the earth rose a massive stone arena, wide and circular, surrounded by glowing glyphs.
"You'll also learn how to train your stats. Speed, strength, intelligence, accuracy, defense—all can be enhanced through the right training. Your Digivices will serve as tools for that, if used correctly."
He held up one of the Digivices. "These are more than keys to evolution. They're links—bridges between your will and your partner's power. If you learn to attune with them, you can assist your partner even without a crest."