The jungle at night was wrong in ways that had nothing to do with its digital nature. I'd been in enough dangerous places with Batman to recognize when an environment was being actively watched. Trees that stood too still, shadows that held unnatural depth, silence where nocturnal creatures should have been making noise.
Beside me, Tentomon's wings buzzed at barely audible frequency as we moved through the canopy. Below, Gomamon padded along the forest floor with practiced hard earned stealth, his white body somehow finding shadow despite the bioluminescent plants that turned everything into a nightmare of contrasting light.
Two miles behind us, Kaldur waited with one hundred seventy-one Digimon ready to assault Primary Village the moment I gave the signal. The pressure of that responsibility sat heavy in my chest, right beside the Crest of Knowledge that pulsed with steady golden light.
Knowledge wasn't just about gathering information. It was about understanding what that information meant, what it implied, what invisible connections existed between visible facts. Batman had drilled that into me for years.
Primary Village appeared through the trees like a wound in the Digital World. Where it should have been bright and welcoming—the birthplace of all Digimon, the center of their reincarnation cycle—corruption had turned it dark and twisted. Black thorns grew from buildings designed to nurture newborns. Purple miasma hung in the air like poison.
And at the center of the village square, surrounded by thirty Champion-level guards and three massive Ultimate-level commanders, were the eggs.
Hundreds of them. Small, fragile, pulsing with the nascent life of Digimon waiting to hatch. Each one was a future Agumon or Gabumon or Patamon. Each one represented continuation of species.
Each one was a hostage.
I pressed myself flat against a thick branch, pulling out the compact binoculars I'd been carrying since Mount Justice felt like home. The view through enhanced lenses made my stomach turn.
The eggs weren't just gathered. They were *arranged*. Stacked in deliberate patterns around the village square, creating what looked like blast radius markers. If we attacked from the north, eggs would be in the crossfire. From the east, same problem. South, west—every approach vector had been calculated to ensure that those eggs faced maximum collateral damage.
Devimon wasn't here. That much was obvious. This setup screamed trap and bait in equal measure. He wanted us to attack. Wanted us to choose between mission success and innocent lives.
But something else caught my attention. The guards were focused outward, watching for threats from the jungle. The three Ultimates—a SkullGreymon, a Myotismon that made me shudder remembering Piximon's wounds, a corrupted MetalSeadramon—were positioned at triangle points around the square.
No one was watching the eggs themselves.
Because why would they? The eggs couldn't move. Couldn't fight. They were perfect hostages because they were perfectly helpless.
Except...
My Crest of Knowledge pulsed brighter as the plan came together. Knowledge meant seeing what others missed. Understanding that sometimes the obvious approach was exactly wrong.
I pressed the communicator button on my Digivice, keeping my voice barely above a whisper.
"Robin to Aqualad. I've got eyes on target. We have a problem."
Kaldur's voice came back immediately, controlled but tense. "Report."
"They're using the eggs as shields. Every approach vector puts them in crossfire. Estimate three hundred eggs in the square. Guards are positioned to maximize collateral damage."
Silence on the line for three seconds. Then Kaldur's tactical mind reached the same conclusion mine had.
"Frontal assault is impossible. We'd be slaughtering the innocents we came to save."
"Agreed." I studied the guard patterns again, counting response times, measuring distances. "But I have a plan. It's risky."
"Everything about this mission is risky." Kaldur's voice carried grim acceptance. "What do you need?"
"Thirty minutes and trust that I won't get myself killed." I glanced down at Gomamon, who looked up at me with absolute faith in his dark eyes. "I'm going to extract the hostages. Once they're clear, you launch the assault with our Ultimates leading."
Another pause. Longer this time. When Kaldur spoke again, his voice carried the weight of command and something deeper. Friendship forged through impossible trials.
"Thirty minutes. Then we attack whether you signal or not. If you're still in there..."
"I won't be." I tried to sound more confident than I felt. "Robin out."
I dropped from the canopy with trained silence, landing beside Gomamon in a crouch. Tentomon descended beside us, his red carapace reflecting bioluminescent light in scattered patterns.
"That plan you mentioned," Gomamon said quietly, his usually cheerful voice serious. "Does it involve us doing something incredibly dangerous?"
"Yes."
"Thought so." The seal-like Digimon somehow managed to look both terrified and determined. "What do you need?"
I pulled out the tactical map I'd been sketching based on reconnaissance, marking positions with quick strokes.
"Those eggs are arranged in clusters. Twenty groups of roughly fifteen eggs each. Too many to move quickly, but if we can create enough chaos, the guards will focus on external threats rather than internal movement."
Tentomon's antennae twitched as he processed the implications. "You want us to cause a distraction while you physically move the eggs?"
"Not me. Us." I met both my partners' eyes. "Gomamon, you're going to evolve to Ikkakumon. Your Harpoon Torpedo has enough range to hit from outside the perimeter. You'll bombard the northern guard positions—lots of noise, lots of impact, make them think that's where the main assault is coming from."
"And while they're focused north?" Tentomon asked.
"You evolve to Kabuterimon. We go in from the south, hopefully find a larg tarp or blanket grab as many eggs as we can carry inside, and you can fly them to safety. Three trips minimum, probably four. We'll have maybe ninety seconds per run before they realize what's happening."
Gomamon's flippers clenched. "That's suicide. Even if they don't catch on immediately, the moment they see eggs moving—"
"Then we move faster." My Crest of Knowledge blazed brighter, certainty flooding through me. This was the right play. The only play. "Knowledge means understanding risk versus reward. Three hundred lives against three of ours? Not even a question."
Tentomon landed on my shoulder, his small weight somehow comforting.
"You're sure about this?"
I thought about Batman, about all the times he'd chosen the hard right over the easy wrong. About how being a hero meant making the call that terrified you because it was the only moral option.
"I'm sure."
Gomamon nodded slowly, then closed his eyes in concentration. My Digivice began to glow, responding to his determination and our bond. The Crest of Knowledge fed what little power it could into the device as Gomamon and it aren't compatible, and I felt the evolution begin.
"Gomamon digivolve to... Ikkakumon!"
Light consumed my small partner, his body expanding and reshaping. When it faded, a massive polar bear-walrus hybrid stood before me, easily ten feet tall with a horn protruding from his head.
He looked at me with the same gentle eyes Gomamon had, just from much higher up.
"Ready when you are."
I turned to Tentomon. "On my signal. Ikkakumon hits them with everything he's got. We go in exactly three seconds after first impact. Grab eggs, run south, deposit them at the rally point, repeat until they're all safe or we're dead."
"Inspiring speech," Tentomon said dryly, but his wings were already buzzing with pre-evolution energy.
I checked my timer. Twenty-four minutes left before Kaldur attacked regardless. That gave us six minutes per run with no margin for error.
From somewhere distant, watching from a perspective that existed outside normal space, I felt eyes on us. The creator of this world, the god whose rules we all danced to, was observing this moment. I couldn't explain how I knew, couldn't prove it with evidence, maybe it's the Crest of Knowledge providing certainty beyond normal senses.
Wherever you are, whatever you are, I thought toward that distant presence, I hope this is the right call.
Then I pushed the thought aside and focused on the mission.
"Ikkakumon. Light them up."
My partner didn't hesitate. His head-mounted missiles launched with sequential booms that shattered the jungle silence. Twenty projectiles arced through the night sky, trailing phosphorescent contrails, before slamming into the northern perimeter of Primary Village.
Explosions ripped through corrupted Champions. Guards that had been standing watch were thrown backward by concussive force. The three Ultimates roared in surprise and rage, immediately orienting toward the threat.
Exactly as planned.
"Tentomon digivolve to... Kabuterimon!"
My second partner exploded into his larger form—a massive humanoid beetle with powerful arms and electricity crackling around his horn. He grabbed me around the waist without waiting for instructions, and we launched into the air.
Three seconds after first impact, exactly as calculated, we crossed into Primary Village from the south.
The eggs were heavier than I expected. Each one was roughly the size of a basketball and weighed maybe fifteen pounds. luckily we found those blankets Kabuterimon's strength allowed him to carry twenty eggs at once, five cradled per a blanket each held in one of his four arms. I managed five, using rope to create a makeshift harness.
Northern explosions continued. Ikkakumon was laying down suppressing fire like a mobile artillery platform. The guards were completely focused on neutralizing that threat.
We ran.
Kabuterimon's wings pumped with desperate speed while I sprinted beside him, every muscle screaming. The eggs bounced against my chest and back, and terror spiked through me at the thought of dropping one, of that fragile life shattering against digital ground.
Seventy meters to the tree line. Sixty. Fifty.
A corrupted Garurumon turned our direction. Saw us. Saw the eggs. His eyes widened with understanding.
"THEY'RE STEALING THE HOSTAGES!"
Forty meters. Thirty.
Champions were pivoting, abandoning northern positions, charging toward us with killing intent in their eyes.
Twenty meters.
An Ultimate—the Myotismon—materialized directly in our path with impossible speed. His crimson eyes locked onto me with predatory focus.
"Did you really think it would be that easy?"
His hand came up, dark energy coalescing for an attack that would liquefy my organs.
Kabuterimon dropped his eggs carefully, then fired his Electro Shocker directly into Myotismon's chest at point-blank range. A million volts of electrical fury slammed into the vampire Digimon, interrupting his attack and throwing him backward.
"RUN!"
I didn't argue. Grabbed two more eggs Kabuterimon had dropped, trusting him to get the rest, and sprinted for the tree line.
We crashed into the jungle with Champions right behind us. But they stopped at the perimeter, unwilling to chase too far and leave their remaining hostages undefended.
We'd done it. Twenty-five eggs safe.
Two hundred seventy-five to go.
Timer check: nineteen minutes remaining.
"Again," I gasped, already turning back toward the village. "We go again."
Kabuterimon nodded, electricity still crackling around his horn. "They'll be ready for us this time."
"I know." My Crest of Knowledge pulsed with grim certainty. "But we're still going."
We hit them four more times. Each run was more desperate than the last. Each extraction was bloodier, closer to failure. By the third run, I had cuts across my arms from near-misses. By the fourth, Kabuterimon was limping from a direct hit that cracked his carapace.
But we kept going. Kept running. Kept saving lives while Ikkakumon kept the main force occupied with relentless bombardment.
The final run almost killed us. We were exhausted, wounded, operating on pure determination. The guards had figured out our pattern and set an ambush. Champions on all sides, closing in fast, with nowhere to run.
My Digivice blazed gold as fear and desperation flooded through me. Not for myself—for the fifteen eggs we were carrying, for my partners who'd followed me into hell without hesitation.
Kabuterimon's evolution surge hit like lightning.
"Kabuterimon digivolve to... MegaKabuterimon!"
My partner ascended to Ultimate level in a blaze of holy power. His new form was massive, armored in red and silver, with cannon arms that crackled with enough voltage to power a city.
He swept the ambush aside like insects, his Horn Buster attack turning five Champions into scattered data.
We made the tree line. Deposited the last eggs with gentle care. Collapsed against digital trees with our lungs burning and our bodies screaming.
Three hundred eggs. All safe.
I triggered my communicator with shaking hands.
"Robin to Aqualad. Hostages extracted. You're clear to engage."
Kaldur's response was immediate. Relief and pride colored his voice.
"Copy. Beginning assault now. Fall back to medical station. You've done enough."
I looked at the occupied village, at the Champions and Ultimates who'd just realized their leverage was gone, at the corrupted forces who were about to face one hundred seventy-one Digimon with nothing left to lose and everything to fight for.
Then I looked at my partners. MegaKabuterimon in his damaged but triumphant form. Ikkakumon still firing missiles, still holding the line.
"Negative," I said quietly. "We're seeing this through. All the way to the end."
Because that's what heroes did. That's what the Crest of Knowledge meant in application, not just theory.
You saw the mission through. No matter what it cost.
In the distance, I felt those divine eyes still watching. Felt approval radiating from that impossible perspective.
Then Kaldur's army crashed into Primary Village like a tidal wave, and the real battle began.