outfit His blood ran cold. They were utterly ambushed. Darius and his digimon partner were in the middle of a bickering match until a horde of BladeKuwagamon appeared out of nowhere. They definitely looked dangerous. Digimon in the shape of a pointy sword and more than one of them spelled a disaster and risk of being hurt. It was especially true since the machinelike creature seemed to surround them on all sides. Why did they have to deal with this type of bull-shit? His Astamon had immediately began the on-slaughter of kicks and a barrage of bullets zooming toward his targets. His efforts were futile. The BladeKuwagamon horde rammed him into an icicle as it shattered into minuscule sharp pieces. Darius cursed when he heard a loud thud and a gasp of pain from his partner. The slashes caused by the enemies had left multiples cuts and lacerations. There was a glaring visible injury that had left him speechless and in panic. The digimon he had inwardly thought perfect and invincible was stained blood red. The deep gash was an unwanted sight to behold. It sent his digimon coughing out blood and clutching his chest as if it would restore back to its previous state. It only made matters worse. More and more darkened drops flowed downwards. The sight sent Darius’s heart pumping fast and it almost felt like it would explode at any moment. His eyes darted back and forth sensing the impending danger. His partner mouthed telling him to escape, but he could not even move from his spot. He was frozen, just like the barren winter ice. He could not leave the digimon he gradually became buddies with even though they didn’t want to admit that to themselves. The only thing on his mind was that his partner was dying and he needed to save him. His adrenaline flooded his system—faster and faster. A burst of illuminating azure light appeared from his burst digivice and zoomed onto his clenched white fists. “Wha—?” he muttered, staring bewildered at the glowing blade that he somehow summoned into his grasp. Before he could even finish his thought, the BladeKuwagamons’ attention was fixated onto the blade and immediately rushed toward him in a fury. He definitely was not ready and not trained in using any type of weaponry, but he had to defend himself in any possible way. Putting his blade in front of himself, it clanged loudly and somehow was able to defend from the barrage of slashes from the machine creatures. He gritted his teeth as his heavy legs dug deeper into the cold snow against the weight of the slashes. He was already shocked that he was still on his two feet. All that was left was his primal thoughts of survival. Nothing else. He should have just escaped, but his pride and companion kept him there. It was a blade against blade-like digimon. He was fighting a losing battle and only a matter of time until the pressure of the stressed fight wore him down. His partner was injured and no one else to rely on but himself at the moment. Suddenly, he felt another BladeKuwagamon swing down from his right side slashing the wind toward him. It was erratic and no set order of attacks. Unpredicable. He swung his body to the other direction and one clumsy movement. Unfortunately, he tripped on probably a root of a wintery tree and fell on his knees as it caused his shoulders to slump forward like the gravity pulled him more downwards. His blade still gleamed brightly in the cold tundra, but it was useless. He didn’t even know how to use it at all. If only he took some type of blade training back in real light, he would be in a better condition than this. Instinct driven, he thrust his blade forward toward a gust of wind where he thought another one was coming from. He was wrong in the worst way. It was just the cold blistering wind of the arctic tundra. A BladeKuwagamon charged from the opposite side with a mighty cry. He pivoted sidewards and sprinted away from that opponent only to bang into another enemy. He went bugged eye at the close proximity and what this meant for him. This might be his very last day. If he was the hero of a tale, he would be saying that he would fight until his last breath. This was not him. All he wanted was to escape but there were no openings so he needed to make one for himself. He saw a potential opening, but it was slim. There were just too many opponents. Without a clear plan, he immediately sprang back and sprinted toward his goal. Unfortunately, he failed in his attempt to escape his sullen fate. Things got even worse. A BladeKuwagamon appeared out of nowhere and stabbed into his thigh, causing him to groan loudly in pain and bend forwards until his clothing was stained crimson. He began gasping for air and clenching his fists until they were white and sweaty. His body became hot and vision became faint and blurry. The pain throbbed deep and it was like someone was continuously squeezing into his gut. It was like tiny bombs were exploding every second. He wondered why the BladeKuwagamon did not continue their slaughter. Maybe they just wanted an opponent to fight with? It seemed like they were patiently waiting for him to get back.If that was the case, maybe he should have played dead. He couldn't fulfill their wish of continuing the fight. He was really going to die wasn’t he? So young and didn’t accomplish anything. Suddenly, a thought sent him into panic into his exhausted limps. His brothers. friends—loved ones. Darius did not want to die. He promised he would come back. Alive and well. “I don’t wanna die,” he muttered solemnly. His vision faded and his body slumped under the gravity and his throbbing wounds. He fainted back, clutching his digivice as if it was the most important thing he had.