"I tried to pull the Black Gear out of the machinery, but something went wrong. Thanks to all of you," Andromon said, offering his gratitude.
When Tai asked if Andromon could give them a tour of the rest of the factory and coach Agumon on combat techniques, Andromon didn't refuse.
They visited the assembly floor next. The strange thing about it was that it only put parts together… then took the half-finished products back apart again. Everyone was speechless. Andromon explained that from the moment he gained consciousness, he'd been in this factory—and it had always run like this.
"So this factory doesn't actually make anything," Mimi couldn't help blurting out.
"You mean it just wastes electricity and produces nothing?" Joe's glasses slipped sideways, nearly falling off.
"Looks that way," Sora said, regret in her voice.
"By the way, Andromon, is it okay if we spend the night here in the factory?" Tai asked.
"Of course. I don't know what area would suit you best, though. We Cyborg-types don't need sleep," Andromon answered.
"That's… another problem," Tai mused, then asked, "Andromon, do you control the factory?"
"I'm only its guardian."
"Are there other Digimon here?"
"Hagurumon and Guardromon also work in the factory. They stay on the shop floor and rarely leave."
"Are they under your command? I mean—do they follow your orders?"
"Yes."
"So you're basically the plant manager?"
"Plant manager?"
"The one in charge."
"I see. Then yes, I am the plant manager," Andromon said—just as Tai expected.
"Can I use the central control room?"
"You may. Use it as you like."
"Thanks."
"Tai, what are you going to do?" Sora asked.
"Make a few little things."
After that, Andromon sparred with Agumon—and with Gabumon, who wanted in—going over combat technique. As Greymon, Agumon got thoroughly outclassed by the Ultimate-level Andromon, lasting only a few dozen exchanges even with Andromon holding back and using no special moves. Gabumon had it worse: as Garurumon he managed barely ten moves before devolving, leaving both him and Matt a bit red-faced.
"In the central control room's computers you'll find modification data for all Machine- and Cyborg-type Digimon on the island. Every Digimon of that sort on File Island has been serviced here," Andromon said as he led Tai toward the control room—news that lit Tai up, and raised new questions.
"Aren't some Digimon natural evolutions?"
"Evolution? I don't know. When I first awoke in this factory, I was already in this Ultimate form."
"I see. Thank you, Andromon."
In an unused room elsewhere, the other kids started to rest. Tai and Agumon followed Andromon into the central control room and brought the system online.
"I'll leave you to it," Andromon said.
"Thanks."
"Tai, what are you doing?" Agumon asked.
Tai's fingers rattled over the keys. "Looking for anything that might let you evolve further."
"You want me to evolve more?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"So you can protect me even better."
"I will. I'll protect you, Tai."
"Why, though?" Tai had always wondered why Digimon threw themselves into danger for the kids the instant they met.
"Because you're Tai. I protect Tai."
"…"
A soft hum started up. Slender bus bars lit with blue indicators; a nearby mainframe spun to life. Indicator lights bloomed one by one, from near to far. The displays came on and lines of green code scrolled.
Soon a dozen monitors showed feeds from across the factory. Tai paged through rooms until he found one that was spacious enough.
With the privileges Andromon granted, he could now direct every Guardromon and Hagurumon on site. He remotely ordered cleanup of the big room, then jumped into the production-control software.
He altered the factory's workflow and fed in schematics for a human-world bicycle. The design tools were advanced; Tai had no trouble. The line produced a first prototype in no time.
He made seven. With bikes, they wouldn't have to grind out every mile on foot. He'd have loved to make something bigger—motorcycles or even a car—but he had no blueprints, and no one could operate them anyway.
When he finished, he let out a long breath. Agumon had dozed off in a chair.
Tai turned back to the screens and started digging for data. The Digital World was pure data—and so were the kids while they were here. From one angle, Digimon and humans alike were self-running data clusters. Data can be rewritten or optimized by programs; Digivolution could be seen as automatic optimization after absorbing new "records" (experience).
Could human data be optimized?
By this world's logic, Digimon evolution changed form. If a human evolved here, who knew what they'd look like? But humans were materially instantiated in another world and only digitized while here; their forms should be more stable—harder to change.
Digimon have a core—a Digicore—so would a digitized human have one too? Heart? Brain? As long as a Digimon's Digicore remains intact, it won't die. In the real world, damage to any vital organ can be fatal. Did that mean all those organs acted like "cores," or was there only one true core?
"Ugh." Tai raked his hair. "Guesswork is useless without experiments. And I can't run experiments. We're the only humans here. I can't use the others as test subjects."
"Hold on—why force 'evolution' at all? We could use externals. Like an Iron Man–style suit… or Saint Seiya–style cloth. Add Digital World weapons and the power spike would be huge." Tai grinned. That could solve the kids' safety problem. He searched for more Digital World intel.
"Wait—what's this?" He found an encrypted block. He worked the keys a long time, then broke it.
"This is… wow." Tai's voice went small. "I think I found something big."
Beneath the steel factory lay a buried city. It had belonged to the Metal Empire. The Metal Empire had rejected a purely mechanical path and pivoted to bio-modification, producing waves of Cyborg Digimon like Megadramon and Andromon (not Machinedramon's line; that was a different case tied to another ruin entirely). In the system Tai had cracked was a database the Metal Empire hadn't scrubbed during evacuation—the most valuable part: a network link!
It could connect straight into the human Internet. Humanity's network made up only a tiny sliver of the broader Digital World—one hundredth, a thousandth even. That's why, although Digimon bios often say they "absorbed network data," most never actually touched the human net and had only the vaguest concept of "humans." The Digital World is its own realm, separated by a Firewall. That's why a single Diaboromon rampage in the movies could flip the human Internet on its head until Tai and the others intervened.
This link was precious because of that. A Digimon that tunneled into the human net and absorbed its data could hit its ceiling—or even leap straight to something like Creepymon's level—almost overnight. For the DigiDestined, the link also meant direct contact with family back home—an irresistible draw.
The buried iron city was a gold mine—and Tai had just struck it.
He booted the Metal Empire's ancient quantum computer. It began optimizing itself bit by bit. The Empire was long gone and the city decrepit, its systems aged, but with Hagurumon repairs spinning up, subsystem after subsystem began to wake. The underground city was on the slow road back to life. It would take time. But once its functions returned, it could start producing Machine-type Digimon in volume. Then there'd be little to fear from any foe… well, except Apocalymon—numbers wouldn't solve that. Not unless they could mass-produce Ultimates. Even a handful would change everything.
Tai looked up at the steel ceiling. "Finally… a chance to take control of our fate. I just hope it's in time for Devimon."
He yawned, slumped sideways, and drifted off.