Jokermon drifted through the shadowy corners of New York City, a quiet disappointment simmering beneath his usual theatrical demeanor. His recent plan to capture Impmon had been a failure, thanks to the interference of a new, pink-haired hero called Jewel and the stubborn "Chosen Child" with her fox Digimon, Renamon. He had expected more from his Hydra agents. Now, he needed to find a more… persuasive candidate for his latest Shadowstone, someone whose desires could be easily twisted.
His mental rolodex spun through names, a wicked smile spreading across his painted face. There were always plenty of ambitious fools in this city, eager for a shortcut to power. The question was not if he would find one, but who would bring him the most delightful brand of chaos. The city hummed with latent resentment, a rich tapestry of greed and forgotten dreams, just waiting for his touch.
His search led him to a discreet, opulent penthouse suite, far from the city's grimy underbelly, yet radiating a different kind of darkness. Inside, a man with unnaturally purple skin, Zebediah Killgrave, reveled in a scene of casual cruelty. He lounged on a plush sofa, idly giving soft commands to several people who, with vacant eyes, obeyed his every whim. They brought him drinks, adjusted his cushions, and spoke soothing words, all against their will, their bodies subtly trembling from the psychological violation. Killgrave's smile was thin, utterly pleased with his absolute, effortless dominion over them.
Zebediah Killgrave, known to a select few as the Purple Man, possessed the terrifying ability to control minds with his voice. Exposed to experimental chemicals, his skin and hair had been stained a sickly purple, and his pheromones allowed him to issue commands that others were compelled to obey. He was a man driven by narcissism, his every desire immediately fulfilled by unwilling servants, leading to a profound sense of entitlement and a deep-seated sadism. He had not yet met Jessica Jones.
Jokermon materialized in a shimmer of data, observing the scene with a knowing tilt of his head. This was precisely the kind of human he sought. Killgrave's control over those around him, the way they moved like puppets on strings, offered a delicious taste of the chaos Jokermon loved. The purple man's ego, his hunger for more, was a vulnerability Jokermon could exploit. He held the Shadowstone, a dark pulse radiating from its surface. It was a perfect match.
Jokermon watched Killgrave with a rare, quiet fascination. The man's ability to manipulate wills, to turn people into puppets with mere words, was an exquisite form of chaos, far more refined than simple fear or destruction. This was a power that could twist the very essence of self, turning devotion into unwilling servitude. He found Killgrave's methods, though grotesque, incredibly interesting. Here was someone who understood true control.
"Quite the parlor trick you have there, my friend," Jokermon said, his voice a soft, almost musical rasp that carried an unsettling undercurrent. He held the Shadowstone, its dark energy a silent hum in the air.
Killgrave's eyes, a deep, unsettling purple, fixed on Jokermon. He had not noticed the jester-like Digimon arrive. The obedient figures around him paused, their vacant stares directed at the newcomer.
"And who, pray tell, are you?" Killgrave asked, his tone smooth, laced with a calm authority that usually bent anyone to his will. "You will tell me your name. You will tell me why you are in my home. And then you will leave."
Jokermon chuckled, a dry, brittle sound that seemed to scrape against the opulent silence. "Such delightful confidence. A pity it is misplaced, wouldn't you agree?" He took a step closer, the Shadowstone pulsing softly in his hand. "My name is Jokermon. And I am here to offer you a power far greater than your petty commands."
Killgrave's smile faltered, a flicker of something almost akin to irritation crossing his face. "I have all the power I need. You will come here. You will kneel before me."
Jokermon merely twirled the Shadowstone, ignoring the command completely. "Oh, I assure you, your little parlor tricks hold no sway over me. But I sense a kindred spirit. A fellow artist of influence, perhaps?" He gestured with the stone. "I offer true dominion. Not just obedience, but loyalty forged in darkness itself."
Killgrave stiffened, a rare expression of genuine surprise crossing his purple features. His command, usually an irresistible force, had simply... bounced off this jester-like figure. It was an impossible sensation, like trying to grasp smoke.
Jokermon, an Ultimate-level Digimon of the Virus attribute, was not organic in any conventional sense. His very being was composed of digital data, a complex arrangement of code and information from another dimension. This made him entirely immune to the biological pheromones and mental suggestions that comprised Killgrave's power. Killgrave's abilities worked on human physiology and psychology, on the delicate chemical balance of a living brain, not on a digital entity.
"Impossible," Killgrave whispered, his voice losing its customary control.
"Not impossible, merely… different," Jokermon countered, his voice a silky whisper that still held its strange, unsettling timbre. "Your power, impressive as it is, requires your physical presence. A single whisper, and they bend. But what if your influence could stretch across a city? A nation? What if you could command desires, not just actions? Imagine bending minds without even being there."
He held out the Shadowstone, its dark energy a silent, potent promise. "This amplifies. It turns aspiration into absolute command. It grants a bond with beings from another world, creatures of pure data, who will serve your will, extending your reach far beyond the limitations of your… natural charm."
Killgrave's eyes narrowed, the predatory glint returning, now mixed with a calculating hunger. "And what is the cost of such a gift? Nothing in this world, especially power, comes without a price."
"Only a simple exchange," Jokermon said, a wide, unsettling smile spreading across his painted face. "Your ambition, your desire for true control. The deeper your intent, the stronger the bond. It is a partnership, of sorts, between your will and the essence of darkness."
A short, intense silence filled the room, broken only by the faint, almost imperceptible trembling of Killgrave's unwilling servants. Killgrave weighed the proposition, his mind a flurry of avarice and cold calculation. The sheer scope of what Jokermon offered, the freedom from proximity, the ability to weave his will into the very fabric of the city… it was too tempting to resist.
"Very well," Killgrave said, his voice regaining its suave, menacing control as he reached out. "Let us see what new delights this power brings."
He took the Shadowstone. A cold, dark energy flowed into him, a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced, merging with his own twisted desires. The stone pulsed once, then a shimmering portal materialized from thin air. From its depths emerged a grotesque, spider-ox hybrid, Gyuukimon, its many legs clicking softly on the polished floor, the bells on its horns jingling with an eerie, predatory chime. Killgrave's smile widened, a look of profound satisfaction settling on his purple face.
[Gyuukimon]
[Level: Ultimate]
[Type: Dark Beast]
[Attribute: Virus]
[Special Move: Yatsuka Senbaku, Majin Byoutan, Senho Tsuchigumo]
[A Demon Beast Digimon who is a bewildering combination of bull and spider. It has a ruthless and spiteful personality, and will pursue those who have laid eyes upon it for days on end. At night it becomes a sinister presence that likes to terrorize its enemies with surprise attacks from behind. Despite its hefty size, Gyuukimon's spider-like legs allow it to move deftly and silently. It is only when it attacks that the bells on Gyuukimon's horn make noise, so all those who have encountered it are constantly in fear of hearing the bells ring. The cacophony from the bells will confuse its prey's senses, allowing Gyuukimon to overwhelm it with its attacks.
In its special move Yatsuka Senbaku, it spits webbing from the mouth on the spider part of its body to restrain its prey, then spews deadly poison. In Majin Byoutan, Gyuukimon throws the cylinders on its back to release poisonous gases. When Gyuukimon senses approaching or retreating Digimon, it attacks with the weapon on its left arm to perform Senho Tsuchigumo and ensure that it subdues its prey.]
Killgrave stared at Gyuukimon, a slow, delighted smile spreading across his purple features. The sheer, physical presence of the Digimon, the silent promise of its power, captivated him. Jokermon watched, a wider, more unsettling grin now stretching across his painted face. The air in the penthouse seemed to grow heavy, a chilling whisper of untold malice settling around them. It was the calm before a storm, a quiet that spoke of unspeakable things yet to come. The city outside, unknowingly, had just acquired a new kind of predator, one whose reach would extend far beyond its comprehension.
***
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