When Ishida Yamato reflected on it – and he had plenty of time for reflection, given how long and bereft of the usual entertainments spaceship journeys were – it made perfect sense that one of the Chosen would be the first humans to set foot on Mars. Other astronauts could perhaps claim greater fitness or knowledge, but those who had saved the digital world were the only ones alive with the experience of striking out into the unknown, separated for months from everyone they knew, and returning home as heroes.

He just didn't think he'd be the one to do it. Taichi was the leader. Taichi held the crest of courage, and as much as Yamato tried to think of this as nothing new, he was afraid. Who wouldn't be? The history of space flight might have been safer than fighting Vamdemon or the Dark Masters, but at least there was a certain confidence in knowing it would be his own weaknesses causing failure. Yet a mechanical failure here or a slight miscalculation there and – well, maybe MetalGarurumon could make it home, but it'd take a miracle for him to come back with his partner. A machine wolf's mouth can't contain all that much air.

But Gabumon was by his side.

Gabumon, who had saved him from a darkness within him somehow seemed more total than the vacuum of space. Gabumon, who had beaten Seadramon and Digitamamon and Pinnochimon and played an irreplacable part in every major battle.

Even though there were no humans around for millions of miles, with Gabumon by his side, friendship seemed as worthy a crest for this journey as courage. He wasn't just Taichi's replacement, chosen because the diplomatic situation in the digital world needed someone both humans and digimon trusted.

He wasn't only doing this because the same technology that gave him the adventure of a lifetime had led to file sharing he had often blamed for the failure of his music career – then again, plenty of artists had succeeded where he had failed, and in his less bitter moments he accepted that he didn't have enough talent.

He was doing this because he was a Chosen Child. Because exploration of new worlds was both his dream and his destiny.

"I hope we can make it home by August 1st, Gabumon. I haven't missed one yet, and I don't want to spend it on yet another world."

"I'm sure they'll forgive you," Gabumon answered. "And if we have to spend it on Mars or the way home, at least you'll have me too."

Yamato smiled. "Hey. What should I say? It's hard to beat 'one small step for a man'"

"Who says you get the first line?" Gabumon protested. "Humans got it last time, it's my turn!"

"Did digimon even exist back then? We barely had computers," Yamato retorted.

"Right, that was only 30 years before Apocalymon in your world. I still can't wrap my head around Moore's Law."

"Let's say it together."

Gabumon nodded. The ship slowly descended into the Red Planet's atmosphere, then came to a rest near the planet's north pole, amidst a wasteland of polar ice not too different from where Yamato had passed out looking for Takeru so many years ago – and Gabumon had stripped his fur to heal him.

They had rehearsed it a bit during the landing, off-camera – the world didn't need to see the practice, just them speaking in unison. It took longer deciding how to phrase it than what to say; there could be no other sentiment, not for them.

"May the friendship of humans and digimon last forever, and may our voyages of exploration bring every world together."

Deep in the Dark Ocean, within the delusional, endless dreams of those who kept Gomamon's card over Agumon's when trying to open the digital gate, through all the digital world, the human world, and anywhere in space close enough to pick up Earth's broadcasting, those words resonated. And with them came the hope for a better future, a future founded on close bonds across the greatest of barriers, the kind of bonds which had brought forth the miracle of warp evolution and saved both their worlds from destruction.