Second Opinion [Mikemon]

For Dr. Mikemon?

This was the most normal day he had in the office for quite a while. Between the D-Reaper case, the spirit wielder infested by her own spirit, and an effort to try and merge three cores into one, well, the cat could definitely run through some more routine cases - such as Marshal and Coronamon. According to the file that had been forwarded to his office, at least, the Coronamon had quite a fight in the Dark Area, and after repeated assurances of doctors in Terminus that all was well, one had finally referenced him to his office in Whitewater.

Its just how they said in medical school: if a patient really knows something is wrong, they'll do whatever they can to get to the bottom of it. Well, at the very least, it was something worth getting a second look.

After a good twenty minutes in the waiting room, the door to the back hall finally slipped open, the Mikemon standing in the doorway. Briefly, he looked over to the empty receptionist desk, and sighed - just when was that Stingmon getting back? Well, no matter:

"Right - Marshal and Coronamon? Well, come on back." The doctor motioned a single arm for them to follow, leading the two to a simple observation room in the back. Once they were all settled in, the doctor gave a nod to the two of them:

"I've read the file, but go ahead and explain yourselves. What happened, and what feels off?"

It was best to hear it from the patients, rather than just relying on the file. The attentive doctor was quick to pick up on the details: he'd been in a spar, and then a fight with an unknown entity - one that even forced them to biomerge. Caronamon felt off after the fight, and their initial medical examination discovered a purple mark on their back: "Just to be clear, the mark used to look worse than this, right?" Dr. Mikemon peered over, pressing a careful, gloved hand against the side of the mark.

Either way, the rookie seemed concerned over the mark, and to their story, the cat gave a short nod. "Alright, I understand your concern. At a glance, since the mark has been lightening and receding, one might easily think this as a temporary bug. I'll give it a detailed look," the doctor reached his hand out to the left, half his arm vanishing into a dark portal, "but understand that what I say will pretty much be final on this. Turn around, face your back to me."

With that, the feline would pull out what was, to him, a familiar red crystal. Nearing the fire-type Digimon's back, he held that sphere a few inches away, and peered into it, like a fortune teller would do. A fortune teller's ball, though, wouldn't be filled with a slight purple glow of data. "I'm just going to peer into your data structure for a second. Deep breath, this will tingle..."

Just what would the cat see?

Well, that was quite the difference in term, actually! If the mark hadn't reduced in size, that reduced the number of conditions it could be by a fair margin: "Hm... I'll take that into account. Honestly, helpful little bit of information..."

That said, the feline took a nice, deep look into the Coronamon's data. The basic structure and functions seemed to be looking properly... if anything, the strain on the center was all there was to it. Sometimes the cracks were a sign of a fight that hadn't fully healed yet - something worth bed-rest and pills - but that second sense, of what seemed to be a little bit of a 'knot' against the edge of his core, seemed 'off' to the feline. Was it a presence, an addition, a growth, or just an abnormality? Curious, the cat's eyes took a closer look, before he'd finally step back.

He wasn't getting any headway like this: "Hm. There's something, but a cursory scan isn't getting me anywhere. Alright..." Moving to his desk, the Mikemon withdrew a small case: unlocking the clasps, he revealed two vials, and two empty syringes: one a red solution, and one a clear solution. "I don't typically like to do this, but I'm going to have to expose your fractal code, and observe the data flow. Please, present your arm."

Presuming he would, that red solution would be injected into whatever arm was provided - and, after a burst of warmth, followed by an ice-cold chill fell over the Coronamon's body, that familiar ring of data would be visible around him...

There was a reason that doctors in Terminus wouldn't look over the fractal code on a typical basis: it was a dangerous thing to attempt. Any static in the room, any awkward data in the air, could immediately get caught up and cause a small 'tick' that built up into major damage over time. The feline was careful in this regard, very silently scanning that white stream of data that surrounded the Coronamon.

Hm... The flow, on a cursory glance, was impossible to differentiate from a normal stream - but the feline's trained eyes knew far better than just to accept a nice, white glow as a healthy stream of data. "His fifth band is skipping - see?" The feline referenced a single band of data near the top - every four seconds or so, a small 'blip', marked by a small notch upward, would pass by his sight. "On the surface, its an untraceable amount of lag, but its indicative of something a bit deeper..."

Just off that, the feline had seen just about everything he'd needed to see. The fractal code had a few expected flaws from the cracks to his data core, but that much was to be expected: drawing the clear solution, the Mikemon injected the second needle into the Coronamon's same arm, the fractal code receding and fading from sight. Soon, the fire-type would be warming right back up.

"Alright, two things. One, Coronamon has our version of a 'concussion'. The damage to his internal core isn't severe, but another big hit will just make those cracks widen. You need to stay out of any fights for... I'd say, three or four more days? A week's overkill but it'll make sure that everything gets back to normal."

And two: "As far as I can tell, whatever 'bit' he has on his core is causing something called 'Phantom Loading Syndrome'. Whatever he picked up in the Dark Area's been stuck near the center of his data, and its been something his core's having trouble to pick up. He's fine in rookie, but trying to access your biomerge again might be tricky. It leaves you two options: run a data load and pull the 'bit' in entirely, or excise it and remove it from your core."

That was it? "If its not currently causing you distress, both are safe. In the former, all you'd need to do is load any sort of data - I could burn an apple, for example. Your core will be 'tricked' and pull that 'tick' in as well, and properly sort it where it needs to go. It would be no different than properly loading a weak virus type. The second, well... I honestly wouldn't recommend something so invasive."

Of course, the two were quick to pick up on that fact:

"Its a risk, for sure," the feline admitted, "But its much less than you would think it would be. Let's see... ah, this will do." Pulling out a sheet of paper and a pencil, the Mikemon drew two circles: one large one, labeled 'C-Core', and a smaller one off to the side, labeled 'V'. "This is how it is right now - some data entity is affixed to the edge of Coronamon's core, and whatever data passes by," he drew lines across the large circle, arcing into that smaller ball, marking the points of impact with an 'X', "Are being interrupted. Over time, this will further damage the main core. Further, separated like this, if this data has a presence, it will be able to maintain its individuality."

Hopefully that much made sense. "Removing it is also a problem." Running an eraser over the edges of the circle, the feline noted the erased parts of the larger 'core' as well. "You'll lose critical function and data. Its a last resort intended for only the most malignant of viruses. But, if you simply absorb the disturbance..." He tilted his head at the page. No good way to draw it! "Basically, your core will retain its original shape, and your data center will process whatever data it took in, as it can. It can have ill effects: you may Digivolve into something else, or you might gain or lose an ability or two. It will also be met with a short-term illness - just for a day or so - but once your data properly processes it, well, that'll be the end of it. No more worrying about your core rupturing when you Digivolve."

The cat nodded, the doctor satisfied with his diagnosis. "Your call."

"Well, its not like you're going to be tripping over yourself tomorrow if you don't get it handled today, but I'd definitely pick an answer before the end of the month." The Mikemon gave a shrug, nodding to the Coronamon's question. "Same as before - call in, we'll set up an appointment, and handle it then. Don't try and handle it yourself - I'd much rather be here to observe the process."

Other than that one warning to the Coronamon, the feline just gave a smile to the tamer. "You're quite welcome. Sorry Terminus and all gave you the run-around on this. There is honestly a good chance that doing 'nothing' will make it sort itself out one way or another, but honestly, who wants to deal with that sort of itch for a year or two?" Sheesh, that just sounded annoying! "Oh, and take care on your way out. We got rain forecasted in about an hour."