I tap my Digivice and feel the familiar pulse of data releasing. Four lights stream out of the device, coalescing into solid forms in the white room.
Gatomon lands on her feet, tail swishing. She looks around the blank space with sharp blue eyes and wrinkles her nose.
"It's so... empty."
BlackGatomon materializes next to her, crimson eyes scanning the perimeter. She flexes her dark purple claws and snorts. "Needs a renovation."
Renamon appears in a golden shimmer, her icy blue gaze already cataloging every surface. She says nothing. She simply sits down, wraps her tail around her paws, and waits.
Impmon is last. He pops into existence with a flash of purple light, his red scarf billowing dramatically even though there's no wind. He spreads his arms wide.
"FINALLY! The digital world's most handsome Digimon graces this boring void with his presence!"
"You're such a drama queen," BlackGatomon says.
"Takes one to know one, furball."
"Boys," Gatomon says. "Not now."
Gwen's avatar raises a hand. "Okay. I'm unlocking the basic creation tool. Everyone should see a new interface appear. Think about what you want to build. The system will interpret your intent."
A translucent panel appears in front of me. It's simple — a grid of basic shapes, materials, and environmental controls. I swipe through it and think about what I want.
Peter goes first. His avatar waves his hands and the floor ripples outward. A gymnasium materializes — hardwood floors, basketball hoops, balance beams, a climbing wall. The ceiling rises to accommodate the space. Peter immediately bounces a basketball off the floor and catches it.
"YES! Gwen, you're a genius!"
"I know," Gwen says. Her avatar is already working. A laboratory sprouts from the white void — workbenches, holographic displays, chemical analyzers, a wall of monitors running diagnostic data. Clean white surfaces, organized shelves, everything labeled and precise. It looks exactly like her.
Jessica hesitates. Her avatar stands still for a long moment, hands clasped in front of her. Then she raises them slowly and pushes outward.
Light blooms.
A sunlit studio takes shape. Tall windows line one wall, letting in warm golden light. Easels stand at intervals, some holding blank canvases, others half-finished paintings. A long couch sits in the center, soft and inviting. Art supplies fill a wooden cabinet — brushes, paints, pencils, charcoals. The floor is warm hardwood, scattered with paint stains that look like they've been there for years.
Jessica's avatar turns in a slow circle, taking it all in. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to.
I think about what I want. Not a gym. Not a lab. Not a studio.
I think about home.
A simple house forms around me. Two stories, white siding, a porch with a swing. Inside, there's a living room with a couch and a TV, a kitchen with a wooden table, a fireplace with a mantel. Upstairs, a bedroom with a window overlooking nothing yet. It's modest. It's plain. But it feels like somewhere I could live.
The white room is gone. In its place, four distinct spaces sit side by side, connected by a shared plaza of smooth stone. The gymnasium, the laboratory, the art studio, and my little house.
Gatomon wastes no time. She pads straight into Jessica's studio, leaps onto the long couch, and curls up in a patch of sunlight. She tucks her tail around her body and closes her eyes.
"This is acceptable."
Jessica's avatar looks at Gatomon on her couch. She reaches out and runs her featureless hand along Gatomon's back. Gatomon's tail twitches, but she doesn't move.
BlackGatomon has other interests. She scales the gymnasium wall, finds the highest rafter, and perches there like a gargoyle. She looks down at Peter with a wicked grin.
"Hey, Spider-Boy. Catch!"
She drops a basketball from the rafters. Peter leaps and catches it, spinning in the air.
"Nice arm, cat!"
"Don't call me cat."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Black Cat!"
"I will END you."
Renamon doesn't go inside any of the buildings. She walks to my house, looks up at the roof, and leaps. She lands on the shingles with perfect balance and sits at the peak, looking out over the strange little world we've built.
I walk over and look up at her. "Comfortable?"
"The vantage point is adequate."
Impmon, meanwhile, has been busy. In the center of the shared plaza, he's built a throne. It's made of what appears to be solid gold, encrusted with jewels, and completely ridiculous. He sits on it, crosses one leg over the other, and rests his chin on his fist.
"BEHOLD!" he announces. "The throne of Impmon, King of EDEN, Ruler of Digital Spaces, Lord of—"
"You built a throne," Gatomon calls from the couch without opening her eyes.
"A throne FIT FOR A KING."
"You're not a king."
"I'm the king of my own domain. That's how kingdoms work."
Gwen's avatar walks through the plaza, examining each structure. She nods at the lab, satisfied. She pauses at Jessica's studio and studies the light. She glances at my house and something about her posture softens.
"Not bad for a first build," she says. "Now let me adjust some things."
She taps her interface and the environment shifts. Gravity lowers slightly, giving everything a dreamlike quality. Textures bloom across surfaces — the grain of the hardwood floors, the weave of the couch fabric, the rough stone of the plaza. Shadows appear, cast by the golden light in Jessica's studio and the overhead lights in the gym.
Peter immediately takes advantage. He leaps from the gymnasium floor, twists in midair, and soars across the plaza in a long, slow arc. He lands on the roof of my house, arms spread wide.
"This is INCREDIBLE!"
Gatomon and BlackGatomon start competing. Gatomon leaps from the couch to the top of the art supply cabinet to the windowsill, each jump precise and graceful. BlackGatomon counters by scaling the gymnasium wall, swinging from the rafters, and landing on the basketball hoop.
"My turn!" BlackGatomon drops from the hoop, flips three times, and lands in a crouch on the plaza.
"Show-off," Gatomon mutters.
"You're just jealous."
"I am NOT—"
Jessica pushes off the ground and rises. And keeps rising. She floats upward, arms outstretched, her avatar catching the golden light from her studio windows. She looks down at all of us, and for the first time since I met her, she laughs.
A real laugh. Full and bright and unguarded.
"I'm flying," she says. "I'm actually flying."
She soars higher, spinning slowly, her arms wide. The light catches her featureless avatar and makes it glow.
Impmon, not to be outdone, waves his hand and changes the color of every wall in the gymnasium to bright pink.
Peter stares. "Dude."
"What? It needed pizzazz."
"It needed to NOT be pink."
"It's MAGENTA. There's a difference."
"There really isn't."
Gwen changes it back. Impmon changes it again. Gwen changes it back. Impmon changes it to orange.
"IMPMON."
"Fine, fine. Keep your boring beige."
I jump from my porch swing, trying to replicate Peter's leap. I push off too hard, twist wrong, and come down sideways on the plaza. My ankle rolls and I stumble forward.
Gwen catches my arm.
Her avatar steadies me, one hand on my elbow, the other on my shoulder. We're standing close. Too close. Her featureless face is inches from mine.
"Careful," she says.
"Yeah. Thanks."
We stand there for a moment. One beat. Two. The plaza is quiet except for Peter bouncing a basketball and Gatomon hissing at BlackGatomon.
Gwen lets go and steps back. "You should calibrate your jump inputs. The sensitivity is too high for your weight distribution."
"Right. Calibration. Got it."
From the gymnasium rafters, BlackGatomon watches us. Her crimson eyes narrow. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across her face.
She says nothing.
She doesn't need to.
***
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