"MAINTENANCE COMPLETE."
The message blinked across Datamon's internal display as the final security layer reinitialized with a soft hum. Lines of code danced across his vision, verifying every function. The network was once again under his control—smooth, whole, and more importantly, sealed from Etemon.
He tapped a few keys and sent a crisp, perfunctory e-mail to Etemon, the subject line reading simply:
"System Restored – All Functions Operational."
A half-smirk—if one could call the faint glimmer in his eye that—passed over Datamon's metal face. He was under no illusion about what Etemon's reaction would be. The self-proclaimed "King of Concerts" was likely thrashing in his throne by now, screaming at his minions, unaware that he had been deliberately cut off during the breach.
Yes, Datamon had noticed the illegal access. The moment Izzy had wormed his way into the network, the system had flagged the intrusion.
But instead of shutting him out, Datamon had done the opposite.
He had paused the security system.
And then—ever so discreetly—severed Etemon's access entirely.
It had been amusing, really. Izzy had moved like a ghost—smart, cautious, but also inexperienced. And yet, in that chaos, an unexpected variable had appeared: Gennai's voice, distorted but present. Interesting, Datamon thought. The children weren't as aimless as he had believed.
The inbox Izzy had created still lingered within the system, tucked inside one of the lesser-used mail servers.
He let it be.
After all, it could serve a purpose.
Datamon wasn't loyal to Etemon. That buffoon only believed himself to be a digital immortal, but Datamon knew better. The network was vast—its memory old, its roots deep. There were codes and constructs beyond what even Etemon could imagine. And perhaps, just perhaps, the words Gennai had managed to slip through the jammed system contained a clue… to something bigger.
The trainer.
The evolution.
The paths.
"Your Digimon evolve in reflection of your personal growth."
Datamon repeated the phrase silently to himself. Evolution had rules. Logic. Process. Or so he'd thought.
But that line hinted at emotion. At choice.
It unsettled him.
No... it intrigued him.
He minimized the logs, encrypted the mail traffic for future reference, and retreated into the depths of the network once again. Watching. Waiting.
Whatever came next, he intended to see it unfold.
And maybe… guide it.
After what felt like an endless day of trudging beneath the scorching sun, the group finally stumbled upon a strange sight: a car junkyard, plopped in the middle of the desert like some great, rusted monument. There was no path leading to it, nor any sign of civilization around—just this towering fortress of forgotten machines, glinting dully beneath the amber glow of twilight.
Despite the word junkyard, the place was vast—easily the size of the Tokyo Dome, perhaps larger. Twisted metal, fractured windshields, and sun-bleached bonnets were stacked precariously atop one another, climbing so high into the air they cast long shadows across the sand like looming giants frozen in mid-stride. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of abandoned vehicles sat there like forgotten relics of a bygone age.
Naruto, eyes wide and head tilted up, squinted against the light as they approached. "What are those things?" he asked, stepping cautiously beneath the shade offered by the towering scrapyard walls.
"They're… vehicles," Sora replied, wiping sweat from her brow and taking a careful sip from her canteen. "Used for transport in our world. Like… metallic carriages."
Naruto blinked, puzzled. "Really? How do they even move?"
But no one answered him. The others were already settling down to rest, some flopping gratefully onto cool slabs of metal or slumping beside tyres twice their size. The air was still, the junkyard oddly silent—too silent.
Shrugging, Naruto turned and began climbing the nearest pile, his movements nimble and sure despite the creaks and groans of unstable wreckage. He was used to danger by now. If this world had taught him anything, it was that nowhere was safe.
From his elevated vantage point, his sharp blue eyes scanned the wasteland beyond—and that's when he saw it.
A figure, hunched and hideous, its single blood-red eye gleaming like a cursed jewel. Peering from between two twisted trucks, the beast crouched, one grotesquely large hand twitching as it prepared to pounce. Its body was covered in coarse grey scales, its form draconic yet strangely industrial, like a monstrous fusion of beast and machine.
"Guys—enemy!" Naruto bellowed, his voice cutting through the silence.
In one smooth motion, he hurled a volley of shuriken. They whistled through the air, faster than sound, striking the creature with pinpoint precision. But to everyone's horror, the blades bounced off the thing's hide like pebbles against a stone wall.
The others scrambled to their feet. Their Digivices lit up, screens flashing as the enemy was identified.
"Cyclomon," Izzy read aloud, his voice grim. "A Dragon-type Digimon… and one of Etemon's enforcers. It's being controlled—look at the black cables running across its back."
The one-eyed behemoth let out a roar of frustration, its breath sending a wave of heat through the junkyard. Its eye focused on the children with murderous intent.
"Digivolve now!" Tai shouted.
In flashes of light, the Digimon partners sprang into action, evolving to their Champion forms in a flurry of data. But Agumon—Agumon remained still.
He shuffled nervously in the sand, eyes glued to Tai, who stood motionless, fists clenched, caught between fear and responsibility.
Agumon's heart ached. He wanted to fight, to protect his friends. But he knew why Tai hesitated.
The memory of SkullGreymon still hung in the air like a curse. The rage. The destruction. The horror in Tai's eyes as his partner had become something monstrous, something wrong.
Now Tai's confidence had vanished, shattered by his own ambition. And Agumon, sensing his partner's turmoil, could only stamp his feet helplessly, waiting—hoping.
Suddenly, Cyclomon reared its head and unleashed a blinding torrent of fire from its mouth—Hyper Heat, a beam of molten energy that vaporized Naruto's clones on contact. The beam struck the junkyard wall with a thunderous crash, melting steel like wax and sending a cascade of burning metal down in a fiery rain.
"Damn, that's hot," Naruto muttered under his breath, landing beside the group after a swift retreat.
"Hot—hot—hot—hot!" Kabuterimon's sharp cry pierced the air as Cyclomon's Hyper Heat attack slammed into his flank, a searing torrent of fire that sent the great insect Digimon spiraling out of the sky. He hit the metal ground with a thunderous clang, scorched wings fluttering uselessly as the enemy let out a thunderous snarl.
"Harpoon Vulcan!" came Ikkakumon's shout, followed by the explosive blast of his spiraled horn crashing into Cyclomon's side.
"Meteor Wing!" roared Birdramon above, summoning a flaming tempest that turned the sky a violent shade of orange. The firestorm raged down from above, licking at Cyclomon's armored hide and setting nearby wrecked vehicles ablaze.
But the beast did not fall.
Cyclomon surged forward, its lone eye burning with fury. The fires danced across its scales and smoke curled from the metal below, but the creature seemed unscathed. Its speed was terrifying—unnatural for a creature its size—and it darted through the field of ruined cars like a phantom of destruction.
From the crumbling peaks of the junk mountain, Garurumon sprinted with the grace of a ghostly wolf, barely making a sound as he darted from one unstable perch to another. His mouth parted, releasing a blast of pale fire.
"Fox Fire!"
The stream of blue-white flames struck Cyclomon across the face. The beast roared in anger, stumbling, its footing lost on the uneven ground. It lashed out blindly, its enormous right arm swinging with reckless strength—crack! The blow landed, striking Garurumon in the stomach and sending him tumbling through the air like a rag doll before he hit the ground, hard.
Naruto winced. That thing… it was too strong for anyone to handle alone. And close combat?
It was a death sentence.
He landed beside the others, sharp eyes still on Cyclomon. "Distract it," he said. "When I give the signal, get out of the way."
No one questioned him. They simply nodded—quiet, firm. Only Tai lingered behind the others, eyes low, hands trembling faintly at his sides. Agumon sat by his feet, unable to hide his own unease. Sparky, Naruto's own partner, stood silently beside them, ears down, as if ashamed of his own inaction.
Meanwhile, Naruto was already forming shadow clones—one, two, three. Each clone crackled with power as swirling orbs of chakra, Rasengan, hummed into existence in their palms. The desert wind carried the sound like a warning of thunder yet to fall.
Cyclomon slipped—its injured leg finally giving way beneath its massive body. That was the moment.
"Now!" Naruto shouted.
The Digimon scattered like leaves in a storm, clearing a path just as the three Rasengan-wielding clones charged in, each like a blazing comet. Cyclomon raised its monstrous arm to shield itself, but it was too slow.
BOOM!
The Rasengans hit with the force of a crashing mountain. The enemy was hurled back—skidding across the junk heap, smashing through rusted hulls and glass—and disappeared in a cloud of dust and fire.
Silence.
Then a groan. The cloud parted, and Cyclomon was revealed—barely alive. Its right arm hung limply, crushed and useless. Cracks ran across its armored hide like broken porcelain. But its eye still glowed with desperate hate.
Naruto didn't hesitate.
He appeared like lightning, chakra surging through his limbs, and kicked Cyclomon in the neck with every ounce of strength he could muster. There was a sickening crack, and the beast collapsed. Its eye dimmed. The threat was over.
As the monster's data dissolved into flickering light, it flowed into Naruto, who stood calmly amidst the wreckage. A wave of warmth pulsed through him, dulling his hunger and clearing his mind like a cool wind after fire.
"Good job, guys," he said with a breath, eyes still on the fading particles.
"Yeah," the others echoed with relief.
But then they looked at Tai.
He stood apart, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the ground. Not once had he raised his Digivice. Not once had he called for Agumon to fight. Even now, he couldn't meet their eyes.
Matt kept his distance. Mimi avoided looking at him. Izzy said nothing. TK lingered, his gaze soft with worry, lips pressed tightly together as if holding back words he wasn't ready to say.
Joe, ever the awkward peacekeeper, spoke first. "It's okay. You've saved us before, Tai. From a lot worse. Let's… just go for now, yeah?"
Maybe it was sympathy. Maybe it was guilt. But deep down, they all knew the truth.
The real problem hadn't been Cyclomon.
It was still with them.
And it was walking beside them in silence.
Naruto looked over at Tai, sitting apart from the others, his posture heavy with unspoken guilt and frustration. The boy was surrounded by the vast emptiness of the desert, as though the land itself was pushing him into solitude, leaving him to grapple with his own inner turmoil.
The wind picked up, carrying the dry scent of rust and metal. Naruto's gaze softened. He knew what it felt like to carry the weight of a choice—one that could turn everything upside down. A choice he wished he could take back. He could see it in Tai's eyes. The guilt, the frustration, the fear of being unable to protect everyone he cared about.
"Hey, Tai," Naruto called out gently, stepping toward him with steady, purposeful strides.
At the same time, Sora opened her mouth as though to speak, but Naruto held up a hand, signaling her to give him the space to reach out. He could tell she was ready to try and console Tai too, but something told him that the leader needed this moment, needed to hear from someone who understood his pain on a deeper level.
Tai looked up, his gaze clouded by the dusk. He didn't need to ask what Naruto wanted; the words hung heavy between them. The sunset's fiery reds and oranges seemed to magnify the sorrow on Tai's face, making him appear even smaller, more fragile against the vastness of the world around him.
"I've heard about what happened, Tai," Naruto said, his voice calm, but carrying the weight of experience. "And I get it... I really do. You're not alone in this."
Tai turned his head slowly, looking at Naruto with a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He didn't say anything, but the question hung there—How could you possibly understand what I'm going through?
Naruto knelt down beside him, his hands resting on his knees, his gaze soft yet unyielding. "There was a time... when I lost control too," he continued, eyes distant as if recalling a painful memory. "I had a darkness inside me, a dark energy that took over. I almost hurt my friends... and maybe worse. It's something I can never undo."
Tai's eyes widened slightly, a hint of surprise flickering through the fog of his sorrow. Naruto had always been so confident, so strong. To hear that even he had experienced such a thing was... unsettling, yet strangely comforting.
"I know what it's like to feel like you're dragging everyone down," Naruto said, his voice low but resolute. "But you have to understand something—courage... courage isn't about always being right or never failing. It's about getting back up after you fall. It's about the love you have for your friends, the people you care about. That's what holds you together when everything else is falling apart."
Tai's eyes softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a small, almost imperceptible spark of hope flickered in his chest. He had wanted to push Naruto away, to tell him to leave him alone, but there was something in Naruto's words—a kind of quiet strength—that reached into his heart and unraveled the tightly wound knot of guilt.
"I know it's not easy," Naruto added, his smile warm and understanding. "But you can't let that fear control you. You can't let it take you down. Bad things happen, Tai. We can't control everything. But if you don't move on, you'll lose more than just your confidence. You'll lose yourself."
Tai's eyes dropped to the ground, as if weighing Naruto's words. The breeze shifted again, and for a long moment, there was nothing but silence between them—no words, no demands, just the quiet understanding of shared pain.
Finally, Tai rose to his feet, his posture still heavy but slightly less burdened. He didn't speak at first, only looking at Naruto with a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty. Then, with a quiet sigh, he nodded.
"Thanks, Naruto. I... I'll think about it."
Without another word, Tai turned and walked away, heading toward the horizon, his silhouette growing smaller against the backdrop of the setting sun. It wasn't much, but it was enough. The burden Tai carried was far from gone, but something had shifted. A small change, a flicker of light in the shadow of his doubt.
Naruto watched him go for a moment, then turned to look at Sora, who had been silently watching the exchange. She gave him a small, relieved smile.
"You did well," she said softly, her eyes still tracking Tai's retreating figure.
Naruto smiled back, though his expression was a mix of satisfaction and sadness. "I don't know if it'll be enough, but it's a start."
As the sun dipped lower into the sky, casting the desert in a soft, fading light, the group gathered their things, ready to move on. But in that brief, silent moment, something had changed. The weight of the past would still be there, but the path ahead felt just a little bit clearer.
And that, for now, was enough.