Datamon's reply came in with such force and unexpected crudeness that it hit like a slap in the face:
HOW THE HELL WOULD I KNOW A THING LIKE THAT?
There was a pause.
The kind of pause that comes not from silence but from shock.
The elegant, almost arcane e-mails they had exchanged before — written like cryptic riddles from a scholar or monk — were gone. What now stared at them was raw, unfiltered contempt.t5
Naruto narrowed his eyes immediately. He didn't know much about coding, but bad intent? That he could sense like the beat of a war drum. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, arms outstretched, a flicker of golden chakra forming around the kids like an instinctive shield.
"Something's not right," he muttered, his tone low, dangerous.
"How, you say?" Tai demanded, stepping closer to the screen. "What's with you? Didn't Gennai ask you to help us?"
From the robot's mechanical mouth came a cold, rattling laugh.
"HEH HEH HEH. I LIED. I JUST NEEDED A TOOL THAT WOULD HELP ME REPAIR MY BODY. THAT'S WHY I CALLED YOU OVER HERE."
A chill swept the room.
"Y–You tricked us?" Joe asked, his voice barely a whisper.
"YES, THAT'S RIGHT."
"Were you lying about the Crest, too?" Mimi asked, voice trembling.
"WELL. DUH."
Each word hit like a stone dropped into a still lake — ripples of disbelief spreading across the group.
Matt clenched his fists. "What is it you want?!"
"I'VE TOLD YOU ALREADY. I WANTED TO REGAIN MY MOVEMENT."
"No, what I mean is—" Matt stepped forward now, eyes burning, "what are you planning to do now that you can move?"
The red eye flickered brighter. There was something unnervingly human in the way Datamon straightened his frame, as if savoring this very moment.
"RULE THIS WORLD."
That simple phrase, delivered so casually, made the room feel colder.
"WHAT KEEPS A WORLD MOVING IS INFORMATION; ISN'T THAT TRUE FOR YOUR WORLD AS WELL?" Datamon continued, the cadence of his voice changing now — steadier, deliberate. "WHOEVER HAS CONTROL OF INFORMATION CAN CONTROL THE WORLD. USING ONLY RAW POWER LIKE ETEMON ISN'T ENOUGH. WHAT'S MOST IMPORTANT IS USING WHAT'S UP HERE."
He lifted one stubby hand and tapped the glass casing around his brain with an audible clink.
"IT'S TRUE I MADE A BLUNDER — NEARLY DESTROYED BY ETEMON, FORCED TO ACT AS HIS ADMINISTRATOR, HIS TOY. I WAS EVEN MADE TO CREATE A PROGRAM TO UPHEAVE THE ORDER OF THIS WORLD."
"But you're helping him?" Izzy asked, trying to piece it together, his voice quieter than usual.
"NO. I SAID 'UPHEAVE,' NOT 'SUPPORT.' THROWING ORDER OUT TO REPLACE IT WITH ANOTHER? THAT'S STUPID. YOU'RE JUST SWAPPING ONE TYRANT FOR ANOTHER. WHAT I WANT…"
A pause.
And then a low buzz.
"IS TO TURN THIS WORLD INTO CHAOS."
Every child froze. Even Naruto's chakra flickered momentarily, like a torch catching a cold gust of wind.
"IF NO ONE CAN SEE HOW THE WORLD IS CONSTRUCTED, THEN THEY WON'T BE ABLE TO FIGURE OUT WHAT THEY CAN DO TO CHANGE IT. THERE ONLY NEEDS TO BE ONE MASTER WHO KNOWS THE TRUTH."
And again — that same glassy clink against his skull, as if it were a crown.
For a long moment, no one said a word.
Even the buzzing in the walls seemed to fall silent.
At this point, the children could have cared less about Datamon's twisted ideology. What they really needed to know was something else entirely—and Sora was the one who voiced it.
"In the end of all this," she asked, her voice firm, "who are you to us? Our ally? Or our enemy?"
Datamon's reply came cold and mechanical, laced with indifference.
"FOR THE PRESENT, WE ARE NOT ENEMIES. I NEED INDETERMINATE FACTORS SUCH AS YOURSELVES, EVEN IF ALL YOUR PRESENCE DOES IS ADD CONFUSION TO THE INFORMATION. AS LONG AS YOU CONTINUE TO BE A THREAT TO ETEMON AND HIS PEOPLE, I WILL USE YOU FOR MY PURPOSES. BUT EVEN SO, IT WOULD BE A PAIN IF YOU GOT IN MY WAY AS WELL, SO…"
Without warning, Datamon's arm shot forward, aiming to grab Sora.
But he never got the chance.
In a flash, Naruto was in front, his chakra-infused kunai slashing across the metallic limb with explosive force.
"BLASTED TRASH, YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!" Datamon roared, smoke rising from the damaged limb.
His glowing red eye blazed with fury as he slammed a hand down onto a control panel. Instantly, the floor vanished beneath the group's feet.
The security system, cold and efficient, didn't bother to classify them as intruders. It simply judged them as garbage—to be disposed of. One by one, Tai and the others were forcibly ejected from the pyramid, flung out like broken data.
Naruto could have resisted.
But he didn't.
He allowed himself to fall, knowing full well the others would need him. He had no intention of leaving them behind—not now, not ever.
Outside the pyramid, the group slowly picked themselves up, brushing dust from their clothes and egos.
"What do we do now?" Tai asked, his voice unsteady.
"It's our fault for releasing Datamon," Izzy muttered, the guilt weighing heavy. "We need to stop him from doing what he intends to do."
Sora lowered her head, ashamed. "I pushed you into trusting him. I'm sorry."
Naruto shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We know the truth now." His voice grew colder, more focused. "I will crush that machine. No one hurts my friends."
A strange hunger stirred within him, an instinct he hadn't felt before. It wasn't just anger. It was something deeper—a craving for data. For a moment, he could feel Datamon's signature like a scent on the wind, and part of him wanted it.
"No," Matt cut in, "we can't just rely on you, Naruto. This is our fight too. We can't be dead weight forever."
"He's right," Tai agreed, eyes fierce again. "We're the DigiDestined."
Naruto gave a sharp nod. "Then we're all on the same page. Let's move. We don't have time."
He broke into a run, the others following close behind. As their Digivices glowed, each partner Digimon evolved, ready for battle.
But as Naruto closed the distance, a barrage of turret lasers fired from within the pyramid.
"Damn!" he cursed, flipping back just in time to avoid being incinerated. He regrouped quickly, rejoining the others as they halted before the storm of light.
"I think we need a better plan," Tai said through clenched teeth. "Does anyone even know what level Datamon is?"
"No... we didn't check in our excitement," Sora admitted, frustrated.
Joe's face paled. "Isn't it... too risky then?"
Tai's fists trembled, and for a moment, tears of frustration clouded his eyes.
Then a soft voice floated through the air like a songbird.
"Hoh. I've finally found you, pi. Gennai asked me to come here, pi."
The group spun around.
Hovering in the air was a small, winged creature shaped like a pink ball with stubby arms and a cheerful smile.
"Piximon!" Izzy gasped.
"So you're the trainer?" Tai asked, hope igniting in his eyes.
Piximon nodded confidently.
"Yes. And you've all made quite the mess, pi. But don't worry. I specialize in turning hopeless into heroic, pi!"
The children, sweaty and weary, huddled together in the shade of the small, hovering Digimon before them. Piximon's wings fluttered gently, his pink, balloon-like form bobbing with an almost comical grace.
"Don't worry," he said with a reassuring grin, though his tiny arms remained folded in that nonchalant way that only someone who was confident in their ability to manage the impossible could afford. "Time moves differently in my home. You have plenty of it. You'll stop Datamon's plan before he even realizes he's in danger, pi."
The children exchanged uncertain glances, none of them daring to ask the obvious question—what did he mean by 'time moving differently'? They had learned enough by now not to question every cryptic statement a Digimon made, especially one that seemed to know more than they did. And yet, trust was hard to come by in this strange world.
"We'll follow you," Tai said finally, his voice hoarse but resolute. "But you'd better be sure about this."
Piximon nodded enthusiastically, his round face beaming with the kind of optimism that could only be described as infuriatingly contagious. "Don't worry about a thing, pi. We've got time."
The little Digimon flitted toward the horizon, beckoning the group to follow. Hesitant but driven by their hunger and the need for guidance, the children trudged after him, their feet dragging through the thick sand. They moved in silence, the weight of their earlier confrontation with Datamon still pressing heavily on their shoulders.
The sun seemed to stretch forever, and the desert appeared unyielding and empty, until Piximon, without warning, began to glide toward what appeared to be nothing more than a steep, unmarked cliff in the distance. The children watched in awe as he reached a seemingly invisible point in the rock wall, and with a flick of his wing, a hidden doorway materialized before them.
They stepped through it without a second thought, their minds still spinning with the possibility that they were being led into some kind of trap. But as soon as they crossed the threshold, the desert was gone.
Where there had been scorching heat and blinding sand, there was now the cool, comforting air of a forest, lush and green. Tall trees stretched overhead, their branches thick with leaves that rustled in the breeze. Birds fluttered in the distance, and the faint scent of wildflowers filled the air, soothing the children's senses. They exchanged astonished glances.
"How did we…?" Sora began, but her words faltered as she looked around. The forest was deep and still, the light dimming under the heavy canopy of trees.
Piximon, bobbing above them, chuckled. "Like I said, pi—my home isn't like anything you've seen. Time here moves at its own pace, so don't worry about rushing. You're safe for now."
As they made their way further into the woods, an eerie stillness settled over them. Tai suddenly froze, his eyes narrowing. In the distance, just beyond the trees, he could make out a large, looming figure—its silhouette unmistakable.
"Etemon…" Tai muttered under his breath, barely audible.
The children turned, eyes widening in shock as they saw the dark figure of Etemon, standing alone on the outskirts of the forest, staring out at them with malevolent eyes. His presence was a stark contrast to the serenity around them, as if the very air around him shimmered with dark energy.
Piximon, noticing the children's worry, let out a small laugh. "Don't worry, pi. All Etemon can see is the desert. He won't be able to find us here. We're hidden."
Tai, still unsure but comforted by Piximon's confidence, nodded slowly. "Good. We can't afford to be caught off guard."
With Piximon leading the way, the group began to ascend a massive hill, its slope steep and the climb exhausting. The trees began to thin, and the children's breaths came heavier as the altitude increased. But the desire for food and rest, combined with the promise of training, spurred them onward. They knew they needed to prepare themselves for the battles to come.
Eventually, after what seemed like hours of trudging up the steep incline, they arrived at Piximon's home. It wasn't what any of them had expected. Instead of a grand, sprawling palace, the structure before them was simple, almost austere—a humble wooden house perched atop the hill. It resembled a dojo more than a house, with large sliding doors and traditional Japanese architecture. The scent of incense wafted from within, mingling with the fresh, earthy smell of the forest outside.
"This is your home?" Joe asked skeptically, his feet aching from the climb. "It looks... modest."
Piximon flapped his wings again, his expression unchanging. "It's all I need, pi. But more importantly, you'll find everything you need here. Come inside."
The children followed him through the sliding door, which opened to reveal a large, open space. Wooden floors stretched out beneath them, with various training equipment scattered around the room—weights, wooden dummies, and ropes hanging from the ceiling. There were shelves filled with scrolls and books, and the walls were lined with ancient-looking artifacts. It was clear that this place was both a sanctuary and a place of discipline.
"Go ahead, eat, relax," Piximon said, motioning to a small table set with bowls of steaming food. "You'll need your strength for what comes next. We have much to discuss."
The children, their stomachs grumbling, wasted no time in sitting down and beginning to eat. The food was simple—rice, vegetables, and fish—but it was more than enough after their long, exhausting day. As they ate, they couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over them, a brief respite from the chaos they had been thrown into.
Once they had finished, Piximon sat cross-legged before them, his eyes now serious.
"Now," he said, his tone shifting, "we need to talk about this world and your purpose here. You've been thrust into a battle that's far greater than you realize. Datamon is only the beginning. But with the right guidance, you can not only stop him, but change the course of this world's destiny."
The children exchanged glances, their faces filled with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. They had been thrust into this world without warning, without understanding. Now, it seemed, they had a mentor—of sorts—who would show them the way forward. But would it be enough?
"We're ready," Tai said, standing up, determination written on his face. "We've been through too much already to turn back now."
Piximon nodded, his eyes glinting with approval.