Ashers to Ashers, Dust to Dust (Gee I wonder who this is)

The Digivice was going absolutely wild as Asher held it up to the monolith, as if it was promising countless treasures and spirits being hidden behind its walls. It was quite the tall monolith, too. With how high it stretched into the skies, it was almost as if it was trying to escape the boundaries of the Digital World and go all the way into space. Perhaps if Asher looked up to trace its enormity he would notice that the clouds, too, seemed to be glowing with a faint green light. The light was pulsing exactly as rapidly as his Digivice was, both phenomena starting to speed up every few seconds.

How had nobody noticed such a monolith here before? It was almost as if it had just been planted here.

The air was stagnant and heavy around this monolith, and seemed to be weighed down more by the second. If the hum surrounding the monolith had started out pleasant, it was starting to become overpowering. First it masked the wind. Then it masked the beeping of Asher's Digivice. Soon, it threatened to drown out the sound of his own thoughts. Would that be such a bad thing, though? If the older teen was looking for an escape from them, it sure seemed to be providing.

Hopefully the boy wouldn't dwell for too long, though. Not when the green, flickering glow of the monolith suddenly froze. For a second the humming stopped, and with it so too did every sound around the ruins. Then a great, green beam spilled down from the clouds, its mere presence enough to try and start lifting Asher up. Whatever this monolith was, it seemed to be equipped with quite the strong tractor beam. If Asher fought as hard as he could he might be able to escape, but how much fight would the older teen have left in him?

Asher would find himself being lifted quite high into the sky by the monolith, getting a birds eye view of the ruins through a tinted, green lens. Compared to the fallen buildings, ruined city square, and swirling sands below, this giant, semi-Egyptian looking structure seemed even more heinously out of place. Whenever the monolith seemed to be tapering off, it instead started to expand outwards again. It repeated this cycle at least three more times, almost forming a double helix pattern, before Asher's ascent finally started to slow.

By now, he was very high above the ruins. Not even his footprints would be visible, and the clouds were so close it was almost as if he could touch them. In front of him was a large symbol, the source of the sickly green light currently washing over him. It resembled a wheel with eight spokes, a series of triangles forming a border around the wheel's outer rim. It held Asher there for a few seconds, beeping as if trying to analyze him. Then the light changed from its sickly green to a cool purple, and then the wheel started spinning.

When the wheen finished spinning it folded outwards, revealing a hollow hallway lined by dark blue panels. The panels were covered in all sorts of high tech circuitry, some unstably shooting sparks at Asher as the tractor started pulling him inwards. Glass tubes seemed to line the sides of this hallway. If Asher looked at them, he would notice Gotsumon running throughout the tubes, pushing small wheelbarrows of pale white rock and lugging around great golden artifacts. Occasionally one tried to pocket a statue for itself, only to be identified by a set of blaring alarms. The unfortunate rock monster was promptly grabbed by cables that shot from the floor and ceiling of the tube, its comrades scattering as if wanting to be nowhere near it.

Asher would never get to see what happened to the Gotsumon.

Asher's journey would go through a few more twists and turns, as if spiraling downward through the monolith, before ending with him being unceremoniously dropped in a room lined entirely with stark white walls. It seemed to be some sort of holding cell, judging by the complete lack of doors. Three of the walls were blank, featureless, and white. The other was made of bulletproof glass, which would feel a little too cold to the touch. Behind it, a Yasyamon was bound by its wrists and suspended over an identical looking room. A large, purple alien Digimon, Snatchmon, was floating around the Yasyamon, occasionally jotting down notes. When the Yasyamon kicked at it, it produced an electric baton with the flick of its wrist and smashed the Yasyamon in the shoulder.

Maybe Asher would realize that was the same grunt of pain a certain employee made after smashing his hip into the break room's coffe table.

The north wall of Asher's cell quickly bubbled inwards. It bent inwards to an unnerving degree before rupturing, another group of aliens emerging from the gap before it resealed itself. These Vemmon were half the size of the tall Snatchmon in the other cell, even if their armor looked remarkably similar. The three quickly tried to surround Asher, making happy chirping noises all the while. One started poking at Asher with stubby fingers, as if trying to find out what kind of person they had just abducted. The other activated a jetpack and flew right up in his face, staring into his eyes. The third beeped in response whenever the first two beeped, jotting down notes based on what they were "saying."

As it finished, it held up a notepad to Asher. Two questions were on it. The first was an indecipherable mess of glyphs. The second was a simple "WHO YOU?"

The Vemmon all looked at each other as Asher threatened violence, beeping in a somewhat unnerved fashion. The one with the notepad jotted down another set of of notes, one in the glyph language from prior and one in a language more comprehensible to Asher. The other two Vemmon stepped back, as if not wanting to get punched, and then clustered around the third to read its notes. They beeped as they pored over the list, eventually nodding in agreement.

It helped that Asher made his own addendum to the list, writing his own name under the Who You question. The Vemmon immediately let out a series of happy beeps, running back to the others and waving its pad around. It seemed thrilled by this development, even if the other two were more apprehensive. They kept their distance and started performing other bits of diagnostic work. One pulled out a small scanning device and fired it at Asher, bathing the teen in soft purple light before a number appeared on the back of the scanner. Another slid a small, domelike object beneath Asher's feet, sending a laser beam straight into the air. Once the laser was set up it flew up to the top of Asher's head, looking pensively to see how tall he was compared to the beam.

Soon the Vemmon with the notepad approached once again, showing Asher a profile. It had his name, height, weight, hair color, eye color, physique ("physical perfection"), temperament ("hostile? cooperative? enigma.") written on it, in both regular writing and in glyphs. It then tapped the bottom part of the profile. "Spirit." It tapped this part a few more times, then shot Asher an expectant look. The other two Vemmon's wrists started sparking, casting wary looks at Asher just in case they ended up with more than what they bargained for.

Not that Asher was the only one to get this treatment, of course. Right next to his profile was another one, visible due to the way Vemmon was holding its notepad out.

Name: Piss Off.
Height: 5'
Weight: 110 lbs
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Brown
Physique: Scrawny
Temperament: Aggressive
Spirit: Impmon, Yasyamon. Devidramon (Uncooperative).

Turned over to overseer for running diagnostics.

A curious entry indeed. In the other room, the cables currently bounding Yasyamon's wrists stretched out as far as they could go. The Snatchmon curiously peered at its arms as a result, as if trying to see how much tension they could bear. It then jotted a few notes, Yasyamon giving it the evil eye all the while. It seemed the diagnostics were still very much in progress.

The Vemmon nodded and clapped as Asher took on Renamon form. That seemed to be an affirmative on his question, at least, even if they still refused to answer who they were. Once again the measuring laser and weight scanner came out, with the trio's archivist taking down Renamon's stats as well. These were shown off to confirm her stats to Asher, along with build ("leggy", compared to Isaac's "stumpy"). A different scanner was waved over Asher, this one a sickly green, and responded with a single beep. On the wall behind Asher, two pedestals were shown. Renamon was on one, and a question mark on the other. Listed beneath the pedestal were Asher's type, family, and attribute in this form. At this point the archivist held up one clawed finger, motioning for Asher to rank up to his next level.

Thankfully for Asher, it seemed fractions weren't counted. Yatagarasumon wouldn't have to come out and play today.

When asked if they wanted to see Asher's forms, the archivist shook its head. It instead turned and pointed at the overseer through the glass, the Snatchmon currently hard at work testing Isaac. A concentrated beam was bearing down on the Yasyamon, a defiant eye glowering at the Snatchmon even as the pressure forced him to take a knee. Then he fell to his hands and knees, still keeping his head up, before finally collapsing to the ground on his stomach. As soon as he fell the beam stopped, Snatchmon taking a few notes.

That was who wanted to see Asher! The Vemmon chirped happily, as if excited to see what its overseer would have in store. For the time being, though, it patiently waited to see which form Asher would be able to bring out next.

Snatchmon was a little bit less patient. It put its clipboard aside and stormed up to the glass divider, smashing it a few times with a heavy fist. Immediately the other two Vemmon zoomed up to the glass, alighting on their jetpacks to look their boss straight in the eye. The Snatchmon beeped, much more harshly than the rhythmic beeps of the Vemmon before it. It almost sounded like garbled speech, although not in any language Asher would be able to make out. The Vemmon tried to repeat to the best of their ability, then turned to face Asher.

Now the look in their eyes was quite expectant. Asher had better hurry up!

Not that he was the only one to hurry up, though. In the other room, Snatchmon hit another part of the wall. Immediately the floor below Isaac turned into a conveyor belt, the younger boy quickly springing to his feet and running. The Snatchmon effortlessly hovered above the moving floor, jotting down notes about how the Yasyamon was performing.

Asher's question didn't seem to be taken kindly by the Vemmon. Two of them started sparking from the wrists again, taking a few steps forward to try and give him a good shock. However, the archivist slid in their way. It waved its notepad for emphasis, as if trying to talk its brethren down. It then turned to Asher, making a few somewhat apologetic beeps. With that "explanation" finished, it flipped the notepad over to show Asher what it was talking about.

Quite a few such diagnostics had been run on Isaac, apparently. Along with the ones Asher had witnessed ("tensile strength: above average" and "pressure resistance: moderate"), there were a lot of other checked off boxes as well. Some of the things Isaac had been tested for included flexibility (outstanding, especially in spirit form), perception (20/15 vision), and unnervingly enough flammability (very). Figuring that this would answer every question Asher had, the Vemmon put away its clipboard and let out a few happy beeps.

This next Digivolution earned another round of applause, as well as more categorization. Asher probably wouldn't appreciate his new physique being labelled as "Amazonian", but at least it was better than the "gaunt" that described Yasyamon. With that done, the two more hostile Vemmon started heading out of the room, walking to its back wall and repeating the same beeping patterns that Snatchmon had told it earlier. After a few seconds of walking in place, the wall bubbled inwards and snapped them right through.

The one with the clipboard lingered for a bit, however. It repeated the beeping pattern, tracing a small pattern on the wall. Next to the pattern, words started to appear. RUN DIAGNOSTICS. However, the Vemmon looked curious. It turned to look through the glass, noting Isaac's persistent performance on the treadmill. Diagnostics were fine enough when only one was present, but surely they had much more of interest with a setup of two, right? It waved away the pattern on the wall, tracing a new one. Once more, words started to appear. RUN SOCIALIZATION.

The Vemmon leaped up and slammed the pattern, both stark white rooms immediately being bathed in sickly green light. Snatchmon looked around in surprise, making guttural noises in obvious displeasure. Isaac, who had still been running on the treadmill, launched forward as it suddenly stopped and faceplanted into a wall. The floor beneath each holding cell started to shrink, slowly but surely giving everyone involved less room to stand on. Vemmon and Snatchmon turned on their jetpacks, Snatchmon flying to the divider between rooms and angrily banging on the glass. Isaac, not so fortunate, dropped like a stone. Would Asher?

The room below looked identical to the room above, but twice as wide. Vemmon waved from the space where there was once a floor, which blinked a few times as a new floor materialized out of nowhere. Now Isaac and Asher would be stuck together inside of a giant white box.

Not that Isaac would notice. He was far too busy springing up to his feet, angrily shoulder checking the walls to try and find spaces where they were vulnerable. So far, all he accomplished for his troubles was shaking himself up.

Having bounced off of the wall for the fourth time since landing, the dazed Isaac thought he was hearing things when Asher's voice rang through his ears. Nope! Asher was just right there, and as obnoxiously know-it-all as ever. He glared as Asher huffed at him. Oh, this was the worst possible person to show up right now! "Annoying, huh?" he asked, gearing up for another slam. " 'Least I'm making myself useful, instead of standing around gaping like an idiot." Maybe this time would work? Nope! This portion of the wall proved just as solid as the others. Although, who was to say the walls were solid? When Isaac slammed into one it gave way just a bit, like a rubber band, before snapping right back and pushing him away.

Maybe that was how Isaac thought he could beat this thing. "I've been stuck here for a day, you know," Isaac hissed, dusting himself off a little. "I've seen those Vemmon enter and leave by snapping through these walls, like, a hundred times. I know there's gotta be some sort of special entry spot, or some entry method. These walls have to be beatable." Isaac seemed almost talking to himself more than Asher. Then again, he really didn't want to talk to Asher any more than he had to.

Well, except about certain subjects. "Y'know, my bro's been worried sick about you," he remarked as he paced around the room, looking for some sort of entryway or exit. One hand ran across the wall, as if looking for an especially flimsy location. "Guess you didn't even have the guts to tell him the truth, huh? Some man you are.

Oh, wait."

Yes, Isaac was feeling vindictive enough to go there. Nevertheless, a little bit of worry seemed to creep through the sheer, crushing layer of bitterness. "How long have you been here for?" he asked, expression softening just the slightest bit.