Ashes to Ashes[Mikemon]

Well, this was definitely a unique way to fly. Held like a cat in the arms of this bladed ultimate, the Mikemon felt a small jolt each time that K took a step. A small glance over her hands confirmed that they were in the air, and rather than argue with it or mess up K's concentration, Doctor Mikemon simply went along with the rhythm. The landscape would change from forest to grasslands, then hills.

It took a while, but they would finally end up in Whitewater, the scent of the ocean having long graced their senses at this point. As K landed, the Mikemon slipped out of her arms, stretching out his own back. "Wait, you were guessing that you were able to make it all the way here?" He blinked, then shook his head with a chuckle. Right, now they were in his hometown! "Alright, come along this way." He would motion for her to follow, taking a turn away from the main street.

---

As for Mikemon's place of work, well, this was definitely quite a bit away from the main hospital. Away from the business of the main entertainment district, the entire block consisted of either residential places, or small necessary businesses. "Ah, here we go." From the outside, it was a rather unassuming building, a sign reading 'clinic' hanging just above the door. He would open it, allowing K to step into the waiting room. Across the help desk, a Stingmon idly read through the morning newspaper, the entire building dead-silent otherwise.

"... And good afternoon to you, too."

"Hm? Oh, welcome back." The insect folded the paper away, and gave a nod. "And she is-"

"Here for some tests. Oh, and you can cancel the lab submissions for tomorrow, too; we weren't able to get a proper sample." With that, the feline slipped his bag over the desk, and then would lead K into the back, to a proper observation room. Back here, it was about how she might expect: a chair for the patient, complete with a paper cover down the middle; a small computer, set at a desk for the Mikemon's height. Everything that was needed here would be well within reach, either in a drawer or just across the hall.

"Well, while we're here, anything else you want me to look into?" The cat gave a shrug.

Soon enough, the two of them would arrive in the observation room, and as quickly as the Mikemon fell into step, K took her seat. Her question was reasonable enough, something that made the cat chuckle. "If you feel fine, aside from your data, there's nothing I need to check. After all, you were fit enough to keep that 'flight' going all the way from the East..."

So, though he could go through the steps, the Mikemon decided to skip over those. He briefly reached under his desk, dragging out a small table to set between them, a seat for him to stand on, as well as a wire-metal stand, one that would hold his sphere in place between the two of them.Quietly, he set that up, setting his ruby sphere on the top, as well as placing a blank notepad and a small, hard case off to the right.

"Alright, I'm going to start by digging back in to look at the same depths I reached before. This scan will be intensive, and you'll likely feel your fur tingle, or your skin crawl. That's normal, but if anything else comes up, please let me know, alright?" With that, he put his gaze into the crystal again.

Once more, his vision would dive deep into K's data, those familiar and antique layers flashing by. Soon enough, he'd once more be at that 'unstable' layer, and slowly, he would press his gaze through...

Hopefully, nothing came up.

The Mikemon shared the Shutmon's sentiment, but gave no indication one way or the other as he entered his trance. K would know well at this point that it was hard to get a read on the Doctor when he was like this: to see so deep into this Digimon's data took an immense amount of focus, his eyes once more narrowing into thin slits. Layer after layer he would peer through, the tip of his pen resting atop the sketch-pad.

And once he broke through that wall once again, he hand started moving. Right now, the Mikemon was starting to scratch down a sketch of what he saw, both so that he could explain it better to K and so he could have a reference to refresh his memory on. Interestingly, the disturbance he had seen before had vanished entirely, after a momentary busyness scratched over his vision. Everything seemed more or less normal...

... But, something new came up. A pair of glowing blue eyes stared right back at the Mikemon, and for the first time, he was able to look back at them. They seemed angry, disturbed that someone was able to watch. A tap of Mikemon's claw hit the table, before he scribbled something down. It was definitely a word of some sort, but it would be in a language the Shutmon likely wouldn't have seen before.

Right now, though, the Mikemon had to be careful how to proceed. Seeing that mark, he paused. That single word would vanish, as the feline took gentle hold of the data around it. And with that, he processed his answer.

Her friend.

A moment later, the message would vanish, blown away in the wind. Would the eyes respond again?

K's discomfort, though technically visible in the Mikemon's peripheral vision, was far outside the feline's line of focus. Between observing the data and sketching with his right hand, the Mikemon didn't want to lose the intensity in his gaze and dig back into the point where he was. If anything, the Shutmon should take it as a sign that there wasn't much to worry about...

Yet.

But the Mikemon's sketch, in-between writing words of the conversation with the eyes, would slowly grow with more and more detail. As the orb pulsed and light was given off, he'd scratch it down. As the eyes pulsed and looked into him, he captured those as well, even managing to capture a slight rupture in the unsettled data. More than anything, though, his gaze was set on those amused eyes, and the tone of those words.

What? Was it like she couldn't have friends? The data seemed unstable, the Mikemon scattering those words after recording them. His answer would be set to those eyes again.

She changed.

He didn't give much more detail than that, the words quickly vanishing to dust, replaced with a new set:

I want to know why.

His own curiosity caught the better of him, even as that core sputtered, vanished, and reappeared in his perception. Just was was this core?

For the next several minutes, K wouldn't see a notable change in the Mikemon's demeanor. Occasionally he'd add an image, or scribble something down in that coded language. If the Shutmon was bored or patient, the Mikemon figured, than this examination was going well.

Which was good: after all, who knew what kind of damage this errant core, so deep inside the Renamon's data, could cause? Thankfully, the core inside seemed willing enough to explain - so much so, that the Mikemon was now scratching words with a fury! He didn't expect such a detailed explanation to be written out in K's core, but soon enough, this 'green' voice would give him some clues. By its description, it seemed like this 'red' core, one of the Digimon that the ancient K had absorbed, had started to exert himself. K's form as a Renamon wasn't enough, so she instead took shape as a virus type.

Scratching the notes down, his focus soon turned onto the core again, scratching through the image. One big circle represented the main core, and two smaller circles around, the blue and red ones. Though K wouldn't know the meaning, he traced a circle tightly around each, like signalling they were all drawn together by one circular wire. Soon, his hand darted back to the words:

Red was unwilling. Blue was more willing, and the 'Blue' would have let her stay as a Renamon. The words themselves made sense... but something seemed off.

This green presence just called K an anomaly. With a careful breath, Mikemon focused once more, to ask:

Anomaly?

The words vanished, and were soon replaced:

Are you K?

What was this core?

What started as curiosity grew to a slight sense of fear, as the Mikemon pressed on his questions. In a way, it was already baffling: here he was, sitting and observing K's data, actually holding a mental conversation with the cores within. And hastily enough, the cores' answers etched their way in and out of the data. Over and over, the entities here expressed at least one common thought: they were not K. That in itself made little sense: these three cores represented the very center of K's data. That made little sense.

Unless...

... The eyes answered before he could even ask. For the first time, the diagnosis was clear to him, everything settling straight in his head. Outside, his eyes visibly widened, the Mikemon dropping his pen. Gritting his teeth, he returned one last note, directed at these spirits:

She is real! You cannot decide for her! For the first time, his own dark gaze settled inside, the rage of a long-forgotten lord of darkness crackling within. The Mikemon caught himself, however, as he clenched his eyes shut, tearing himself away from K's data.

Which was something he did a little too well: the chair he was sitting on wobbled, and toppled over, the cat and chair crashing on his side with a loud bang! "Ugh..." Rubbing his head, shaking out his fur, the Mikemon stayed on the floor for a moment.

For the first time, he wasn't sure how to break the news to his patient.