Etemon clapped again. The echo hit like a gavel.
"Rules are real simple, sugar," he announced, strutting along the ledge above them like a producer pacing behind glass. "Only one side walks outta this fine establishment. Winner goes home. Loser gets… a hard lesson in humility."
"That's insane!" Joe shouted.
Etemon wagged a finger. "Save it for your memoirs, baby—this show's already rollin'!"
Tai felt the heat of Agumon's presence at his side. His partner was bouncing a little, eager in that honest way Digimon had—like fear and excitement were cousins and both were invited.
Across the arena, the silent boy opened his jacket slightly and lowered one hand behind his leg, palm open.
Tai's muscles tensed. A weapon?
No—an invitation.
A small orange shape stepped out from behind the boy's calf. A tail flame, steady as a candle that didn't care about drafts. Big eyes scanning the arena, then the boy, then the Digimon.
A Pokémon.
Tai had never seen one in real life, but he knew the shape from old posters and a couple trading cards at school. Charmander.
The boy didn't speak. He barely moved. He gave the smallest nod—so subtle it felt like Tai had imagined it—and Charmander padded forward with calm purpose.
Agumon immediately leaned in, curious. "Huh? What's that?"
"Agumon," Tai said automatically, and then realized he didn't actually have a plan. "Uh—get ready!"
Charmander watched them like it was taking measurements.
"Contestants in place!" Etemon crooned. "Aaaaaand—hit it!"
Agumon charged, mouth already glowing. "Pepper Breath!"
Charmander answered with a burst of flame—precise, controlled—and then sidestepped as the two attacks collided and smeared heat across the air.
Tai's heart kicked. "Agumon, keep going!"
Agumon rushed again, brave and straightforward.
Charmander didn't meet him head-on. It pivoted. Drew Agumon into overcommitting. Let Agumon's momentum become the problem.
Tai frowned. "Agumon—don't just run at him!"
"Tai, that kid isn't even talking," Matt called from behind a barrier gap, eyes narrowed. "He's not panicking. He's… watching."
Sora's voice cut in softer but sharper. "Tai—look at how the Pokémon keeps checking him. They're communicating without yelling."
Tai's focus snapped back to the boy.
He wasn't smirking. He wasn't gloating. He wasn't even performing for Etemon's "show." His gaze tracked Agumon's feet, the angle of his charge, the timing of his breath attack—like he was reading a rhythm.
Then the boy lifted his device.
It looked like a Digivice… but wrong. Sleeker. Different geometry. The screen flickered with icons Tai didn't recognize. It pulsed once, and the air itched.
Charmander glowed.
Not like Digimon glowed. Not a rolling aura of emotion. This was cleaner—like someone hit a button and the world obeyed.
Charmander's shape stretched, hardened—
Charmeleon.
"Wha—?" Tai's voice cracked with disbelief.
Izzy practically vibrated. "That isn't normal Digivolution… and that isn't a normal Digivice."
The boy's eyes flicked to Izzy—one quick acknowledgment—and went right back to the battle.
Charmeleon advanced with the confidence of a creature that knew exactly what it was supposed to be doing.
Agumon took a hit and stumbled. He glanced back at Tai, searching his face.
Tai's frustration flared. "Agumon! Don't stop! Get up!"
Agumon did. Because he always did. Because he trusted Tai even when Tai didn't know what he was asking.
And Tai, watching the silent boy's calm, felt something nasty twist in his stomach.
That kid wasn't being cruel.
He was being smart.
And Tai wasn't sure he was.