Yamaki sat in the basement offices of his new headquarters, a recently constructed stadium just outside of Tokyo. Besides the vast amount of money he’d accumulated over the years working for Hypnos, he was also heir to a sizable fortune- and being a rich man was not without its benefits. Money had allowed him to construct this stadium specifically for what he had in mind, with no questions asked. Money had paid for the plastic surgery necessary to completely reconstruct his face after Renamon’s attack, and it had provided the resources and personnel necessary to run an event of the magnitude Yamaki had planned. Even Yamaki’s riches, however, had not been enough to regain him the use of his legs.

His entire body from the chest down was horribly scarred, and no matter how many surgeries Yamaki underwent, he would never be completely whole again. The quiet whine of the electric wheelchair filled the small office as Yamaki moved slowly toward the stack of envelopes that lined one wall of the room. He cursed inwardly. He hated not being able to use his legs- dependence on the chair made him weak, and weakness was one thing Yamaki had never been able to tolerate. There was one thing that might help- Yamaki smiled at the thought. He’d ring up a few “associates” of his later. They owed him enough that they’d probably be glad to help out…

The Tamers. The thought echoed again in his head. The Tamers are the key to everything. Eliminate the Tamers, and the separation of the Digital World and the real world will become complete. Yamaki smiled, flicking his lighter open and closed, open and closed. The Tamers would get what was coming to them soon enough… but for now, there was work to be done. Turning back to the stack of envelopes, Yamaki began the process that would end in what he believed was Earth’s ultimate destiny- the elimination of the Tamers and their Digimon, and the exile of the abominations from his world once and for all.

Rika Nonaka walked down the busy street in the heart of Tokyo. The Digimon Queen, or so they called her. Some people, recognizing her from the tournament that had made her a mild celebrity among the people of the district, would stop and take a second look at her, pointing her out to their friends, children, or parents. Rika walked along, her music loud in her ears, oblivious to it all. Pathetic, she thought to herself as two older guys jostled each other in front of her, asking for her autograph. She walked by, ignoring them deliberately. If they only knew what I do when they’re not around- the reason they really call me the Digimon Queen. As if sensing her thoughts, Renamon appeared silently in a dark alley up ahead. Seeing the tall, proud Digimon reminded Rika of something- it was time to be getting back to her grandmother’s house.

Not that she particularly cared whether she was late, or if her grandmother was worried about her (she knew her mom wasn’t, probably out modeling or picking up some new guy) but Takato had said he had something important to tell her- and as much as she hated to admit it, the other Tamer’s information was usually on the mark. She turned down a side street, catching vague glimpses of Renamon following her along the tops of the nearby buildings. She smiled slightly- a rare occurrence for her. Renamon was one of the few friends she actually trusted- not that she’d ever had that many friends to begin with. Through all the battles they’d fought, all the times both their lives had been in danger, Renamon had always been there- faithful, a constant if often unseen companion at her side.

Rika opened the gate to the old-style Japanese home, not pausing to shut it behind her as she walked through the gardens, curious as to what Takato had to say. She frowned, looking around at the greenery surrounding her. The garden was so quiet… which probably meant that Takato hadn’t arrived yet. Suddenly, Rika heard the sound of running feet, and Takato vaulted the fence, Guilmon close behind him. Takato was waving an envelope of some sort in his right hand and gasping for breath as he screeched to a halt next to the bemused Tamer. Renamon appeared suddenly at Rika’s side, clearly also wanting to know the reason for the pair’s apparent urgency. “What did you want to tell me anyway?” Rika asked, not waiting for Takato to catch his breath as she demanded an explanation.

Takato waved the envelope, panting for breath as he tried to talk. “This… envelope. You’ve… got to… have one too!” “No,” Rika said, frustrated. “What’s this all about, Takato?” “Read it!” he gasped. “It’s so awesome!” Rika snatched the envelope out of the young Tamer’s hands, about to rip it to shreds in her haste to know what was inside- but stopped when she saw the icon on the front of the letter. The envelope in Rika’s hands bore the symbol of the Blue Card. “OK, this is strange,” Rika said. “Who would send YOU mail about Digimon- who even knows you’re a Tamer?” Takato shrugged, gesturing for her to read on.

“Attention all Digimon Tamers,” she read, her interest increasing with each word, “You are hereby invited to attend an international event unprecedented in all of history. Your presence is officially requested at the first international Digimon World Tournament.”

A slow smile lit Rika’s face as she continued reading. “The tournament is being held right here in southern Tokyo… how long have you known about this?” she demanded, slanting her eyes at Takato. “Oh, for a couple of weeks,” Takato said, nervously edging away, “I tried to tell you, but you never had time!” “Takato!” Rika shouted, storming toward the other Tamer angrily. As Takato cowered, wishing he could hide behind Guilmon (who had conveniently disappeared) Rika suddenly leaned forward impulsively, catching the young Tamer up in a tight hug. Startled beyond his ability to speak, Takato just stared at Rika, unbelieving. “Rika-” “Takato,” she cut him off, “Sometimes I just want to strangle you… but this is so great, I’m letting you off the hook! This time, anyway,” she added, glancing sideways at the other Tamer as Takato started to blush, fidgeting nervously. “See you at the tournament.” Not waiting for Takato to answer, Rika turned, Renamon at her side as she walked into the old-fashioned Japanese home, sliding the door shut behind her.

Takato stayed where he was, staring after the girl as the door slid shut behind her. “What’s wrong, Takato?” Guilmon asked, choosing that convenient moment to appear directly behind him. Takato jumped and turned around, startled. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Guilmon!” he said. “And nothing’s wrong- it’s just that Rika- never mind!” he finally said, at a loss for words. “Takato-mon’s in love!” Guilmon said, laughing in that strange voice of his. “I am not!” Takato said, offended that anyone could even suggest his liking Rika. “Where were you all that time, anyway?” he demanded. “Hiding,” Guilmon said simply. “Guilmon, you’re useless!” Takato laughed, rubbing the Digimon playfully on the head. “C’mon, let’s get going- I’m starved, and I bet that bottomless pit you call a stomach could use something, too.” “OK,” Guilmon said cheerfully, already having forgotten the incident between the two Tamers. The pair jumped the fence again, running as fast as they could toward the one true pleasure in life, to Guilmon anyway- food.

The door slid shut behind Rika, and she collapsed against the far wall with laughter. It had taken all her willpower to keep from letting it out where Takato could still hear her. Renamon materialized in front of Rika, curious. “Why are you laughing, Rika?” she asked. “I just love teasing that boy,” Rika said. “The look on his face-“ she broke off, laughing too hard to continue. Renamon shook her head. “Sometimes I don’t think I will ever understand you humans,” she said. When Rika looked up again, she was gone.

Henry and Terriermon were headed home from a game of Frisbee in the park, because Impmon, who was for some reason in a worse mood than usual, had showed up, grabbed the Frisbee in mid-air, and eaten it. Against Henry’s wishes, the little Digimon had sent Impmon flying with a Terrier Tornado- but they still had no Frisbee, so home they went. “Why’d Impmon have to eat our Frisbee like that?” Terriermon pouted. “I was just starting to have fun!” “Terriermon, you shouldn’t have attacked him like that,” Henry said, though secretly he was rather pleased at Terriermon’s growing strength- and he hadn’t ever exactly like Impmon, either. “Well, he was getting annoying!” Terriermon said defensively. “Well, anyway, we’ve still got to-“ Henry broke off as he noticed an envelope lying on the front steps of his house. “What’s this?” he said to himself curiously. The envelope in front of him bore the emblem of the Blue Card.

He tore the letter open slowly, not even sure he wanted to see what it contained. “It says here we’ve been invited to some sort of an international Digimon tournament…” Henry frowned. Impressed as he might be with Terriermon’s growing power, he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of the little Digimon competing in such a large-scale tournament. Terriermon himself, however, had no such qualms. “Can I go Henry? Can I, please?” He jumped up and down in the air rapidly, trying to catch the Tamer’s attention. “I don’t know, Terriermon,” Henry said.

“Even if we discount the possibility of your being killed by another Digimon, there’s always the chance that this might be a trap. Think about it: Tamers from all over the world all coming together in a single spot at one time- what better chance for someone to try to destroy us all?” Terriermon fell silent for a moment- he hadn’t considered that prospect at all. Then suddenly he burst into laughter. “C’mon Henry, lighten up!” he said. “You know I can handle myself in a fight- and besides, I’ll always have you there to protect me!” “Well…” Henry said, considering. “Please?” Terriermon begged, that irresistible look Henry knew well coming over his face. “Well, okay,” Henry said reluctantly. “But only under one condition. If you’re ever in danger, I want you to bow out. I wouldn’t want to lose you, Terriermon- Terriermon?” But the little Digimon wasn’t listening, already bounding down the hallway to Henry’s room with excitement about the upcoming event- that is, until Henry’s little sister poked her head around the corner, doll’s dress already in hand. Terriermon groaned inwardly even as he fell, “playing dead”. This was going to be a long day…

Late that night, long after the Tamers had all gone to sleep, a large white van pulled up next to the loading bays of Hypnos. The back doors of the van swung open silently, and five men piled out- all of them armed. They wore pitch-black stealth suits, and the heavy weaponry they carried dispelled any notion that they were there on a peaceful mission. The leader checked his watch. “The boss promised us a bonus if we deliver by morning,” he said. “We haven’t got much time. Vyk, Steve- take the archives. The rest of you, with me- we’ve got the R&D facility. We’ll find some sort of signal when we begin our attack- that’s your cue to take care of the archives. Got it? Let’s go!” The dramatic exit was ruined by one of the bandits falling flat on his face. “Are you sure I have to go to that R&D place?” he asked, sniveling. “Dangerous chemicals make me allergic!” “Shut up Joe,” the leader of the gang snarled, “Or you’re going to be looking for a new job again real soon.” Instead of getting up, Joe immediately began to cry. “This isn’t fair!” he yelled, oblivious to the guards that could be lurking anywhere around the facility. “I don’t have time for this!” the leader said, exasperated. “Look kid, here’s a hundred,” he said, extracting a bill from his wallet. “If your allergies start acting up, you can go buy some pills or whatever with this.” Joe looked up from his helpless weeping with new hope in his eyes. “You really mean it?” he asked. “Thanks, Izzy!” “Now get up off the ground and come with us,” the gang leader said, “And stop calling me by that ridiculous nickname!”

The last of the bandits entered the loading area, the giant bay door sliding slowly shut behind them. The darkened, shadowy interior looked even more cavernous in the absence of light than it normally did- but Izumi had studied the place for hours earlier that day under the pretext of purchasing a shipment of electronic components, and he knew the way around. A heavy steel door, located just to the right of the main entrance- there! Izumi and the four other bandits approached the door, which remained closed, highlighted faintly by a dim greenish light set to illuminate the diskette slot set into the wall. Izumi smiled faintly. The slots had been a security measure taken by Hypnos to prevent unauthorized access- no one could open the doors unless they had the proper access code, carried on a disk which was then inserted into the slot, allowing for entrance- but in addition to being a criminal mastermind, Izumi was also a technical wizard. He walked calmly up to the door, pulling out a small white diskette about the size of a silver dollar and inserting it into the slot. Blue sparks and white smoke belched from the slot, the doorway rumbled open- and they were in.

Unlike the loading bays, which weren’t used during the night, the R&D facility was kept at least partially illuminated by a row of fluorescent lights set along recesses in the sides of the room. The R&D facility was organized much like a typical office building- rows of cubicles and glassed-in spaces, irregularly interspersed with doors that led to other parts of the corporation. Izumi and his four thugs walked straight down the aisle as if they owned the place; anyone who happened to see them would simply think they were four busy executives doing some late-night work. Izumi reached the end of the row, turning left. There was another of the thick steel doors Hypnos seemed so proud of, only this time, instead of a simple diskette slot, there was a combination retinal and handprint scanner mounted in the wall to the side. A simple, small print plate like any other in the building marked the door: “Special Projects III, Mechanical Division”.

Joe raised his eyebrows at the increased security, but Izumi just turned to one of the four other bandits who was carrying something wrapped in a dark green bundle. “Take it out,” he said simply. The gang member unwrapped a high-intensity cutting laser, twisting the dial on the side to full power. At that power level, it would last barely long enough to cut a large enough hole in the door- but at a lesser setting, it couldn’t penetrate the thick steel. The four bandits donned protective goggles as a blazing burst of red light shot out from the end of the laser, cutting through the thick metal to the room on the other side. In moments, there was a loud clang as a red-hot oval of metal dropped out of the door. The bandits tensed- but nobody appeared to have noticed. “Okay,” Izumi whispered as they stepped through the doorway, “The target is located near the back of the bay- be sure not to damage it. There should be a couple of guards somewhere around here, so be careful.” Joe gasped softly with awe as they entered the cavernous bay. Special Projects III was a gigantic room filled with all kinds of technological wonders having to do with Digimon- even what looked like a partially disassembled Digivice wired to various diagnostic screens in one corner. “Oh- what’s this?” he asked, reaching toward a glowing blue object mounted atop what looked like a small Tesla coil. “Don’t touch that!” Izumi snapped angrily. “You might set off an-“

“Alarm,” he finished furiously as Joe’s hand brushed the object before he could draw back. A loud klaxon blared out from the wall speakers, red lights flashing in the background. “I’m sorry Koushiro!” Joe shouted in distress. “It won’t happen again-“ “Quiet!” Izumi snarled. “There’s time to deal with you later- everyone, there’s no time to lose! Let’s finish this operation and get out!” Izumi ran toward the other end of the bay, blaster pistol out and firing as he ran. One of the guards dropped, groaning in pain as he grasped his leg. The other was nowhere in sight. He stopped short as he beheld the object of the assault, located in a partitioned-off section of the bay. He and the other four bandits looked up collectively and gasped in awe.

Vyk and Steve stood silently inside a tiny office outside the archives as the alarm klaxons wailed and dozens of security guards ran past. “That must be our signal!” Steve said quietly. “Let’s go for it!” Vyk replied. The archives were protected by a heavy steel blast door, capable of withstanding gunfire and made specially heat resistant to withstand cutting lasers- but Steve had something in the package he carried that would take care of that. Carefully, he extracted two plastic explosives and fastened them to what Izumi had told him were weak points in the door’s design. He set the timer for 15 seconds, and he and Vyk ran quickly into the hallway and flattened themselves against the wall, blasters held at the ready for any late security guards. There were none.

Suddenly, a wall of flame and heat came bursting out of the tiny office adjoining the archives, making Vyk flinch involuntarily backward. He hoped none of the files had been destroyed- that was what they’d been sent to retrieve. But Izumi had assured them that the records they sought would be kept from harm in secure file cabinets toward the back of the room- secure, perhaps, as far as office personnel and regular employees went. But the bandits were far from being normal office workers, and a few seconds’ work had the filing cabinet open. “The boss said go for the folder marked ‘Special Projects III- Field Data’.” Steve said, locating the folder inside a larger folder marked “Projects III”. “But does he want the whole thing?” Vyk asked doubtfully. “I dunno,” said Steve, “We’d better take it just in case.” Locking it securely in a small strongbox, the two thieves broke the side window (setting off yet more alarms) and jumped out into a narrow alley, running around front to the loading bays, and their waiting van.

Meanwhile, Izumi and the other four bandits stood staring up at their intended target with awe. It was nearly ten feet tall, a hulking mechanical creation that looked vaguely humanoid. Weapons protruded from its bulk at different points- yet it looked oddly unfinished, as if whoever had been building it had just stopped somewhere in the middle. “We’ll never fit that thing into the van,” Joe said uncertainly. “No,” Izumi said, “There’s a control here somewhere- there!” The boss had said there would be a way to make the machine small enough to fit inside the panel van, and there it was- connected by a pair of wires to the machine was a control panel with three buttons marked “Circuit Test,” “Extend,” and “Retract”. Izumi pressed the “Retract” button hesitantly, and a low mechanical whir filled the bay as the machine’s long, spindly legs folded up under it. In moments, the thing was just compact enough to fit inside the back of the van- and none too soon, as fresh guards arrived from other parts of the facility.

Out of Izumi’s bag of tricks came a small device about the size of a peanut- a sonic grenade. Twisting the bottom half one way and the top half the other, he threw it at the oncoming guards. The device sent off a high-pitched whine that the bandits could barely hear through the special filters in their helmets- but the guards certainly could. They clapped their hands over their ears. Even so, the vibrations attacked their ears and their brains. In moments, the men dropped to the ground, temporarily paralyzed. “That should take care of the guards,” Izumi said, lifting one corner of the huge machine. In spite of its bulky appearance, it had been created from a durable yet surprisingly lightweight composite metal. “Now let’s get out of here before any more opposition arrives. You two,” he said, pointing to two of his henchmen, “Blow the place. The rest of you, carry this thing out to the van.” As Izumi and the other bandits maneuvered the bulky piece of machinery out of the bay, two of the gang members extracted a bulky package: a heavy explosive charge. They set the timer for 5 minutes and ran. As the last of the bandits piled into the panel van, Izumi roared “Step on it!” to the driver, and the van shot out into the darkness- just as an enormous explosion of heat and light burst out of the Hypnos building, rocking the ground beneath the white panel van. The bandits had gotten away clean- or so they thought.

Two blocks away, Ken Ichijouji sat up with a start. He’d long suspected Yamaki of having ties to the Syndicate- now he knew for sure. Before the stadium had even been fully constructed, Ken had had wiretaps planted on the phone lines- and he had heard Yamaki say something about “picking up something from the office” to Izumi. Suddenly, the ground under the hotel seemed to buckle as Ken was knocked off his feet by the shock wave of a tremendous explosion. Abruptly, he knew: the Hypnos building. Ken was up again in a flash and out the door, calling to Stingmon as he ran. He revved up his motorcycle, taking off on the most likely escape route the bandits would have used. And then he saw it: a nondescript white panel van pulling ahead about a block away. He knew that vehicle from countless hours of surveillance... Ken urged the motorbike even faster, drawing out his blaster as he pulled closer to the escaping bandits. Stingmon appeared, flying alongside him as he took careful aim. There! Ken snapped off a shot, the brilliant red laser beam striking the vehicle’s rear tire. The van started to skid out of control, slamming into a nearby building, its gas tanks igniting in an explosion of flame.

Inside the van, the world was a deadly haze of black, greasy smoke as flames billowed up from the back. “We have no choice!” coughed Izumi as he forced his way into the back of the vehicle, “We have to escape inside TALOS!” “Talos?” Joe asked? “The machine, you idiot! It’s an acronym!” Izumi snarled, climbing inside the cockpit of the machine with Joe and two more. The others had not been so lucky. Izumi took the helm, pressing the “Extend” button. This fight’s about to get a whole lot more interesting, he thought grimly as the cockpit burst free of the van’s fiery ruins.

Ken gasped in surprise as the giant machine exploded out of the van’s crumpled roof. He hadn’t expected anyone to even still be alive in there! “Spiking Strike!” Stingmon roared, cutting a long gouge in the metal near the cockpit. We’ll see who’s stronger now, Ken thought as Stingmon took to the sky.

“The shields- the shields you idiot!” Izumi snapped at Joe, whose hands hovered uncertainly over the controls. He hadn’t felt like this since he’d flunked out of med school- so nervous, not really sure what to do. Joe jabbed at a button, which by sheer luck was the right one. The mushroom-like spread of shields activated over the towering machine, protected now from outside attack. “Now let’s finish him!”

“Spiking Strike!” Stingmon attacked again- only this time, he didn’t connect with the mechanical terror. Instead, a massive electrical charge hurled him into the side of a nearby skyscraper, and he fell to the ground. Ken drew his blaster, snapping off shot after shot at the strange creation. Every one rebounded from the machine’s shields, lancing into nearby structures. Ken pulled out a grenade. I’m not going down without a fight, he thought, pulling the pin and hurling it at the mechanical beast.

“We’ve lost a shield!” one of the bandits cried, pointing to a diagnostic screen that flashed red in warning. “The weapons! Joe, you idiot, use the weapons on them!” “Spiking Strike!” a voice echoed from outside. Suddenly a brilliant red beam cut through the glassine canopy viewport, causing Izumi to jump back involuntarily. The boss wasn’t going to like this...

Joe stabbed blindly at the weapons console, and the heavy laser cannon below them spun into life.

“GATLING LASER!” the mechanical monster shouted. An attack? Ken wondered. Is it some kind of Digimon? The barrel of the heavy laser cannon on the machine’s underside spun into life with a staccato roar, hundreds of laser bursts blasting Stingmon high into the air. Ken knew that some Digimon were robotic in appearance- but none of them had ever been a match for Stingmon! The insect Digimon darted back in, undaunted. “TITAN MISSILE!” the robot roared. A spread of missiles lanced out from the machine’s torso, straight at Stingmon. “Get out of there, Stingmon, before it kills you!” Ken shouted. He knew then that Stingmon was no match for whatever that thing was- and Ken stood by his motorcycle as the insect Digimon came to rest next to him, watching the mechanical monster lumber rapidly away into the distance. “It was the Syndicate again, wasn’t it?” Stingmon asked. “Yeah...” Ken said. “We were so close to having them tonight too!” “I’m sorry, Master,” the insect Digimon said. “It’s not your fault- who could expect something like that to show up?” Hand in hand, the two walked back down the street to the hotel they were staying in, to await further developments.

At the stadium, the lights were turned down for the night- but a lone figure remained outside on the grass, waiting impatiently. Finally, just as dawn’s first light began to show over the horizon, the huge machine set down in the grass before Yamaki, battle damage evident on its once-smooth surface. “I see you had some trouble getting out,” Yamaki said. “That detective Ken Ichijouji and his Digimon were waiting for us- they put up a rather good fight,” Izumi said. “Never mind that- this can all be fixed,” Yamaki said waving his hand expansively. “Here’s an extra $500 for the successful... test run.” And for the information, he thought silently. There really are other humans partnered with Digimon besides just the Tamers. “I’ll also keep the Izumi Syndicate in mind for any future jobs I might come up with.” The four remaining bandits walked away, climbing into a sleek foreign limo and driving off into the morning sun. After awhile, Yamaki followed suit, wheeling back into his office. He still had a lot of work to do to prepare for the upcoming tournament...

Takato woke up, yawning. His grandfather was over for the weekend, and the incredibly loud volume at which he watched the morning news awakened him early- something about an explosion at the Hypnos building, he thought. Today was registration day for the Digimon World Tournament- Takato wondered for a moment if he’d see Rika there. He hoped so- she could be a little tough at times, but he couldn’t deny there was something about the girl that was starting to grow on him. Oh well, he thought, a roguish grin lighting his face, she’d better be ready. Guilmon and I won’t go down as easy as she thinks...