Mission: The Road to Eldoradimon, Chapter 1

The light of the surface above shone down on Squire like a spotlight, serving only to contrast how dark it was in the sewer system beneath. It also highlighted how alone he was down here. Whether in circle of bright light Squire currently stood in or the shadowy illumination it was casting throughout the room, there wasn't a soul currently occupying the same room as him. The only indication that anyone else may have been present was the sound of wet footsteps in the distance, somewhere between north and east.

Thankfully for Squire, he didn't land in the watery end of the sewer. Instead he was currently standing on one of the concrete platforms that maintenance workers used to get between different parts of the sewers. That didn't mean it wasn't damp and clammy down here, though. The air was strangely cold, likely due to how far below the surface Squire currently was and the fact that the power didn't seem to be currently on. Electricity use tended to be sparing in the desert, the city deciding to avoid overheating Eldoradimon while he was in such a hot place. While that meant Squire wouldn't have to worry about contending with waste management systems today, it also meant it was going to be a lot harder to see. The air smelt surprisingly well, more stale than overtly smelly, but that was likely because Squire was still by open air. As he descended into the depths, it would likely only get worse.

From his current position, he could see at least five different exits. One was a simple ladder, leading back up to the manhole he had moved aside. The rungs looked mostly stable, even if the bright yellow paint on them was starting to flake and chip off. It'd be a reliable way to exit the sewer once his job here was done, but would it also run the risk of him being caught yellow-handed?

To the south was a heavy metal door, so close to Squire he'd bump into it if he even backed up a few paces. The door once had a sign on it, but age and wear made it little more than a few paper tears. They seemed to vaguely form a caution symbol, and the letters E and Y were visible on the top left and bottom right corners. On the wall beside it was a box, smudged letters reading _ N C _ _ E _ _ E _ _ R G _ _ _ Y.

A similar door was to the north, but this one was more inviting looking. It stood on a far soggier concrete platform and already seemed to be hanging open. Judging by the splinters and holes in it, it was made of wood. What was on the other side was a mystery, however, as the manhole's light only extended so far.

To the west and east were two halves of a sewer pipeline, some stagnant and filthy water still sitting in the pipe. There didn't seem to be any rust or jagged metal, but there was only one section of the pipe for Squire to judge by. The western half stretched straight on back until out of illumination range, while the eastern half diverged into a T-shaped junction.

And with no sounds but footprints and trickling water, Squire was left alone in the dark.

Squire chose to follow his ears, which was a fairly wise decision when they were all he had to work with. Bright light gave way to dim light, which steadily began to fade until it gave way to pitch blackness. His own reverberating footprints began filling the air, metal on metal, but sufficient straining would reveal that the other footprints were still there. They were softer than Squire's and sounded almost squishy, as if water was being wrung out of them with each step. While at first they were at an even-paced rhythm, they sped up hastily as soon as Squire's greaves first hit the ground. The gentle swishing and squishing gave way to a full-on splattering, the footsteps hurrying away until they started to fade. They seemed to turn very slightly to the left, but with the head start the escapee had it was hard to discern.

The floors continued to be metallic, and for the most part seemed to be atop solid ground. There was one section of the pipe that seemed a bit less stable, the steady clanks of Squire's footsteps giving way to hollow-sounding clonks, but with no obvious entrances there was little avenue to explore the strange sound. The walls themselves were cold, slimy, and solid, as this was still a pipeline, but occasionally an area of them felt a little bit more rough and coarse. If those areas were examined by touch they would appear to be arrows, some carved into the side of the pipe and some formed from thick globules of paint. No matter the medium, however, they all pointed in the same direction; straight, then with a slight bend downward.

Thankfully, however, the pipeline didn't go interrupted for too long. Soon more light began to flood down into tunnel, shady illumination once more returning to the tunnel. Unlike the unobstructed light of an open manhole cover, this was the cross-stitched light of a sewer grate. Much less visually helpful, but it was better than nothing. The light revealed another room coming up, much like the one Squire had previously left but thinner. It also shed some light on the walls of the pipeline, the bars appearing at regular intervals. There was one exception to this, however. While the left wall of the pipe had seven bars of light displayed, the right only had six. The third bar didn't even seem to appear, as if there was a gap in the wall.

Of course, while Squire was too far to see much in the room up ahead, he would be able to see a door swinging open. It could have been the wind, or it could have been the perp. Would the mysterious oddity or the pressing reality be Squire's focus for the day?

As Squire entered the gap, he would find it somewhat of a tight fit. It was certainly wide enough for him to squeeze through, but it wouldn't be too comfortable of a journey. However, there would be something very comfortable at the end of the gap: light! It didn't seem too obvious at first, but the unmistakable glow of a fluorescent lamp was visible up ahead.

Once the wall of the pipe was past, the lamp would shed a little bit of light onto the situation that Squire had walked into. The first was that he was currently standing on a crudely-assembled chute. Whereas most of the pipeline had been solid up to this point, this chute was somewhat rusty and hastily placed over a simple scaffolding. Squire was now outside of the sewer's pipelines, and was currently inside of a gap between them. Surely enough, if he looked forward he would see an almost-identical chute coming out of a nearly-identical pipe, the chutes both seeming to funnel down to a single location. Thankfully, his armored feet prevented him from feeling the grodiness of the chutes, but if he looked down he would see they were currently caked in green and brown slime. Similar arrows to the ones on the walls were on the chutes, this time pointing straight down.

The source of the fluorescent lamp was a desk in this space between pipes. It sat on a concrete platform, which was cracked and brittle from age yet clearly good enough for whoever set up shop down here. Said whoever seemed to be a ShellNumemon, shell painted up to look like a suit jacket. Thick lint was plastered over his stalked eyes, giving the appearance of bushy eyebrows, and he was carrying around a briefcase in one hand. In the other he was tossing a glistening piece of metal up and down. Upon noticing Squire's footsteps, he immediately shoved it into his shell as if nothing happened.

There were quite a few other products on the desk, too. There were some hybridized action figures, hastily cobbled together from broken parts and super glue. There was a half-deflated inner tube in the shape of a Gwappamon. There was a giant tub labeled Shell Polish, which would have been all well and good if not for a random afro comb jammed inside of it. These were just three of the most visible wares in the flickering fluorescent light. Who knows what else there would be if Squire decided to take a closer look?

He turned the fluorescent lamp to try and aim it in Squire's direction, illuminating the Veemon's path if he chose to head on down to investigate. "Hey, hey, hey!" he called, in a voice practically dripping with oil. It was like a bunch of used car salesmen were caught in a The Fly style teleporter accident and fused into the sleaziest-sounding being possible. "That another customer I here? Usually lucky to get one in a day, let alone two in five minutes. Why don't'cha come on down and see if there's anything you like?"

Illegal? Crap, the jig was up. However, ShellNumemon was the diligent sort, and wouldn't be giving up just so easily. As Squire called his bluff he ruffled into his shell, eventually pulling out a wad of slimy papers. They were stuck together and reeked badly, but Squire would be able to see that they were proper licenses. Sure, they weren't his licenses, but between being torn, crumpled, and coated in slime, ShellNumemon hoped that little detail would go unnoticed. "Here's my papers, boss. Filth Digimon permission exemption-" An especially bullcrap point in an already bullcrap story, but ShellNumemon hoped the kid would figure a Numemon in the sewers would get such an exemption. "Sorry they're a mess, guy. Bottom of a sewer, stuff happens, eh?" he asked, waggling his fake eyebrows for effect.

At mention of the other customer, ShellNumemon clamped his shell a bit more tightly closed. It was very hard to not make an action like that suspicious, but he hoped by bantering the whole while he would be sufficiently distracting. "Ah, that's a tough one, buddy," he said as he adjusted his shell. "I don't see where they're coming or going from. They go down the chute, pop right on in, and then go back up the chute. But I can tell ya what he took off my hands, if you'd like." His voice was confidence without earnestness, the kind of tone where you'd swear a guy was a liar but had no idea how to prove it.

"Lessee . . . big ol' pile of slop, for one. That's a store specialty. A flowerpot. Some old bendy straws. Ooh, tar, can't forget the tar. Suitcase. An old clock. Think there might be some more, but my memory's slipping a bit . . .

Care to help me refresh it? Lamp's 500 bottlecaps, by the way. Or bits. Whatever you surface fellas use." The nerve of this salesman, fishing for a bribe when he was already under suspicion! He was either really cocky or really stupid.

ShellNumemon thought he had all of the cards on the table. He thought this was just some stupid errand boy who was gonna look at a few cobbled-together permits and be on his way. Then he could get back to this sewer racket, making cash and dousing himself in beautiful, beautiful sludge. It was a job so easy a baby could do it. Instead, the one being done in here was ShellNumemon, because the mark just broke out the threat of citizen's arrest. Heck, worse than that, he just dropped that he was associated with Dukemon. There were a lot of things ShellNumemon wanted to do in life, and being run through with a giant lance? Not one of them. Not even close.

He looked at Squire's face, looking for any nerves or sign that he was kidding. Upon seeing none, he practically flung himself at Squire's feet. "Hey, hey, buddy! C'mon, you can't mess with a guy's livelihood like this!" he pleaded, eyes bugging out and tongue wagging desperately as he spoke. "You know what it's like up there for a guy like me in this heat? If I don't get my hands on some slime and ooze, it's curtains for me! Oh, who am I kidding! It's gonna be curtains either way.

Alright! You win! I'll sing." He went back behind his desk, sitting in a folding chair and taking a drag of a long-since-stale candy cigarette. This was apparently very important to the interrogation procedure.

"So this guy comes in here, right? And he's a big fella. I mean, B-I-G Capital B Big. Guy practically had to tiptoe down the chute so he wouldn't bust it on the way down. Had one heck of a head start on you, too. Guessing he could see in the dark, because he had no trouble walking through the pipes. Couldn't get too good of a look on him, on account of that hooded robe he was wearing. But he had a metal plate on his head, a major case of hunchback, and these big, yellow fingers.

Not much of a talker. I tried, but he gave me a bunch of this to shut me up." As if to demonstrate ShellNumemon removed his shell, shaking it and letting the gold rocks fall out. A few made light-sounding clinks as they hit the floor, but one made a really heavy thud. "Check it here, pal. Gold Digizoid. Genuine stuff. You know how much of a fortune I could make springing these? Oh, I'd never have to sell another sock a day in my life! I'd get to rent a nice little shack with a big ol' sludge tub in the middle. Don't know how he got his mitts on the stuff, but hell, I ain't asking questions with a payout like that.

Anyway, he bought all the stuff I told ya, then packed up to get a move-on. Wouldn't tell me where he's going or why he's going, no matter how much I asked him about it. Went right back in through the way you came from and bolted for the door. Could've sworn I heard him muttering something about the head, but he's gotta be barking up the wrong tree, right? These sewers lead to the sides. For all we know he'll come storming back all disappointed in a few minutes.

If you're looking for him, I'd make like that cereal box guy. Follow your nose, and all that. With all the slop he bought, he's gonna reek!

Got any other questions, or can an honest slime get back to his day in peace?"

"You're a good man. I'm not gonna forget this second chance, okay?" ShellNumemon said, incredibly grateful for not being hauled to the slammer. "I don't know where this guy got the rocks from, but if my people give me a source, maybe I'll kick it back to you. You scratch my shell, I scratch yours, right?" It seemed that ShellNumemon knew when he was beat, and with him no longer having the upper hand of the deal he was going to milk his current position for all it was worth. He eagerly scooped up his 500 bits, seeing Squire off with a cheerful wave.

The change in the environment was like night and day. Thanks to the light, Squire would now be able to see so much more of his environment. As he went through the door, he would notice himself entering some sort of office space. It was a small, humble room, and would have looked very orderly if not for the furniture lying around everywhere. A large sofa was blocking a door to the north. It looked to be haphazardly thrown in front instead of carefully dragged over, and some stuffing was leaking out of the sides. The door itself had a pipe symbol on it, and seemed to cave in slightly on its hinges. If there was a lock there before, the shattered fragments of metal on the ground below showed that there certainly wasn't one now.

Beyond this door, there were two others. To the west was a door made of steel rather than wood. The word SECURITY was written on it as plainly as day, something that Squire could now easily discern due to his light source. Next to the door was an alphabetical keypad, sparking slightly but otherwise looking perfectly functional. There were four slots for entry, enough to make a simple password while still befuddling anyone who tried to brute force their way through the matter. If Squire was careful, he would notice a small piece of paper tucked behind the keypad. If he took it, he would notice the words "THE CITY OF ____" scrawled on it.

Finally, there was a door labeled EQUIPMENT on the south side. It didn't have anything barring it, but a lack of glass on the door made it a tricky gamble. Would it contain anything worthwhile, or was it already picked clean of anything useful? Regardless, it was also the easiest to access of the three doors.

The smell of Numemon sludge in the air continued to waft northward, crawling out from under the blockaded door. However, there also seemed to be scattered pieces of gravel spilling out from below the security door. In comparison to these, the equipment door was almost too untouched. Unfortunately, this was the point where Squire would have to start making judgment calls. In his conversation with ShellNumemon, the footsteps strayed too far for Squire to properly make out anymore.

The door took a little bit of force to open. It wasn't anything noticeable, but another sign that it hadn't been opened in a decent amount of time. However, a proper turn of the knob and push open lead to it swinging by without resistance, granting Squire entrance to the equipment room. It was without a doubt the easiest of the three solutions, providing far less struggle than either of the other two options would have. While it was pitch black inside, Squire's lamp would make that a complete non-issue.

As he swung his lamp inside he would notice that the room was very small. However, the shelved stretched throughout the room made it almost like a labyrinth to navigate. All in all there were three shelves lined end-to-end, forming little hallways for Squire to navigate. Some had holes in the middle to allow Squire to duck through them quickly. Some had piles of fallen products in the middle of the aisle that made them impossible to pass. This unfortunately made what should have been a quick duck into the equipment room into a bit of an ordeal.

The first shelf was literature. Safety regulation codes, on-the-job training manuals, and explanations about the history of Eldoradimon's sewer systems were among some of the books present on these shelves. Other than the worn copies presumably borrowed by a few bookworms, most of them were left untouched due to how boring they were. If Squire thumbed through them with enough attention he would probably learn a few interesting facts. For example, that the southernmost door he had passed earlier lead to the main power generator. Or maybe he would find the map leading to Eldoradimon's head, located in the last chapter of the history book. However, this all depended on him actually mustering up the effort to read such dry books, or even notice them in the first place.

The second shelf was electronics. Most of this was a nest of wires and cables, each with agonizingly specific purpose and different plug shapes. While their intended purposes were most likely useless to Squire, they looked thick and flexible enough to come in handy if he had any clever ideas. More relevant was a large box of batteries, each in various sizes and shapes. There were even a few that would fit Squire's lamp, which would make running out of power a much less pertinent concern. Next to the wires were a few walkie-talkies, two noticeably missing from the shelf. Finally, there was a huge and cumbersome backup generator.

The third shelf was tools. There were giant buckets of scrap metal, nails, screws, nuts, and bolts sitting haphazardly around the shelf. After them were some regular tools, such as hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, and the occasional stepladder. After this were the power tools, like electric drills, welding torches with masks, and even a chainsaw. A welding torch seemed to be missing from here, and if Squire was careful he would notice a box labelled "OXYGEN - AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED." The box was empty, but seemed completely untouched. If he checked, it would even still be locked. Who would go through all of that effort?

Finally, to the right of the third shelf was a door labeled UNIFORMS. Inside would be, surely enough, uniforms. They came in all shapes and sizes, to make room for bipedal and quadrupedal Digimon at various stages of growth. They were unflatteringly dumpy looking, made of rubbery yellow material and coming with giant, sight-obstructing masks. They were waterproof and helped filter out gases, but they had an awful, stale odor to them.

Overall, it was a fairly comprehensive equipment room. It was also as quiet and still as a mouse, with the exception of the second pile occasionally shuddering as if someone was hiding inside of it. But completely still besides that little disturbance.