SkullKnightmon had never pretended that a day like this was impossible.
In its view, no matter how brilliant a schemer might be, without enough power to back the scheme, there would always come a moment when someone simply crushed "cleverness" with brute force—and the planner would lose everything.
Conveniently, SkullKnightmon had a living example of an insurmountable peak:
Its elder brother, Bagramon.
Even if SkullKnightmon were willing to kneel beneath that brother's shadow, it still couldn't become the world's second strongest.
Because the universally acknowledged number two belonged to the Bagra Empire's First General—
Tactimon.
Yes.
It couldn't measure up to its brother… and it couldn't even measure up to its brother's subordinate.
What humiliation.
And yet it was precisely that humiliation that taught it patience—taught it to accept the truth that no plan, no matter how elaborate, could ever be perfectly airtight.
It had entered a wager with Bagramon: betting on what kind of future this god-abandoned world would crawl toward. From the mouth of a future emperor, it learned how the Xros Loader was made—and it learned how to use dark power to forcibly convert other Digimon into fusion materials.
To that end, it found Nene Amano, a suitable Xros Loader candidate. It took her family hostage, made her a vessel to nurture darkness, supported her in the shadows as a puppet on the surface—and prepared to use her as a scapegoat the moment the conspiracy was exposed.
SkullKnightmon never believed its plan was flawless.
But it had laid down countless contingencies—countless escape hatches, bargaining chips, backup routes. Even if discovery remained possible, there should have been room to maneuver.
And yet…
Every ounce of power it possessed, every calculation, every contingency, even its honeyed tongue—its talent for provoking and manipulating—
all of it became meaningless.
What it really couldn't accept was this:
The one who stripped it back to its original form…
was a ten-year-old human.
It was ridiculous. Absurd. Humiliating beyond words.
A humiliation so deep that even a thousand years of hatred wouldn't be enough to exhaust it.
But miserable reality didn't tremble because of its hatred.
If anything—
it wasn't even qualified to hate.
Under the suppression of those endless tentacles, SkullKnightmon was like a tiny boat trapped in the eye of a storm. No matter how hard it tried to command its body, it could do nothing. It could only be handled—moved—like an object.
It could feel it with horrifying clarity:
Its emotions, memories, and knowledge were being extracted—peeled away thread by thread.
The sensation was like every shackle had been unfastened, granting it a strange, intoxicating relief and freedom—
and then, immediately after, a boundless terror.
Then the darkness it had gathered through any means necessary over the last thousand years began to drain away under those tangible tentacles—fading, diminishing—until its already hated, stunted body grew weaker, smaller, even showing signs of regression.
But it didn't end there.
Because as the darkness left, something new was injected into its body.
A power it loathed.
A power it despised—
a radiant force that made it think of the brother utterly unlike itself, seated high above the heavens:
the power of light.
SkullKnightmon was afraid.
It hadn't believed Narumi Akira could truly strip away its darkness and forcibly turn it into the very kind of luminous Digimon it hated most.
It would rather die than become that.
But it had no choice—
just like Nene Amano, whom it had threatened into obedience.
Then—
Akira's voice arrived as if from the edge of the sky, delivering the power SkullKnightmon least wanted to receive.
"You can still speak, can't you?"
"You could howl. Curse. Proclaim to this world—and to your far-seeing brother—that you can finally become a shining angel and stand at his side~"
"I'm sure your brother would be delighted to see his useless little sibling finally find the right path, wouldn't he?"
The night receded.
And only then did SkullKnightmon finally realize that the darkness blotting out the sky…
had been those endless black tentacles all along.
They didn't merely devour darkness.
They could also wield light.
At last, SkullKnightmon understood why it had lost.
To swallow both darkness and light alike, to make them your own…
That was an overwhelming force beyond good and evil.
Before that kind of power, it wasn't just SkullKnightmon that couldn't compete—
even Bagramon… might not be able to.
The hatred drained out of it.
Not because it no longer possessed the emotion—
but because…
Brother… I will pray to the gods.
Pray that we never meet again.
Pray that you, who challenge the divine, will never stand in his way.
Otherwise… your ending may be even more cruel than mine… and DeadlyAxemon's.
A white cat, born from the shell of the skeletal knight, stared carefully at the boy before it.
After confirming his features, the white cat flopped down and exposed its belly.
[Image: Tailmon]
Akira reached out and gently scratched under the cat's chin. Its eyes narrowed into a happy slit, purring in deep comfort.
Satisfied by the cat's goodwill, Akira smiled faintly. Then he walked into the remnants of SkullKnightmon's wreckage and pulled out a black crystal.
As for DeadlyAxemon—
it had already been broken down into pure data, erased from existence.
"I didn't expect your modification techniques to be this thorough," Akira clicked his tongue in admiration while looking at the consciousness of SkullKnightmon sealed inside the black crystal. "Not just data remodeling—you can even do consciousness extraction this cleanly."
"How effective is this crystal?"
It can actively deploy a protective barrier, and also passively mitigate damage for its holder.
"And its defensive strength?"
Top-grade Huanglong Ore class. Even if a Royal Knight arrived, it would take them time to break it.
"Good." Akira's smile sharpened. "Exactly as planned."
He took out a bracelet, set the black crystal into it, and walked up to Nene Amano.
Softly, he said, "This is the debt SkullKnightmon owed you."
"And this is yours, too."
He produced the black Xros Loader and placed it into Nene's hands before she could argue.
"Returned to its rightful owner."
Nene stared at what he'd handed back, her face blank with surprise—momentarily unable to respond.
"When we extracted SkullKnightmon's consciousness, my partner searched its memories and found your sister's coordinates," Akira continued. "I've already stored the location data inside your Xros Loader."
"I don't know how much you suffered in the Digital World, or how many humiliations you swallowed," he said with a small shrug. "So I won't insult you with empty comfort."
"Go save your sister."
He patted her shoulder with a smile.
"I believe in your real partner."
"…Mm."
Nene nodded reflexively—then realized her vision had gone blurry.
She wiped at her face without thinking. When she saw the dampness on her palm, a sour ache rose in her chest—sharp and unfamiliar.
But she didn't sob.
"Thank you, Mr. Narumi Akira." Nene bowed deeply, speaking with quiet sincerity. "I will never forget your kindness—not for as long as I live."
"All right, all right—save the gratitude for after you've rescued your sister," Akira waved her off, mildly impatient. "I've got things to do. We'll talk later."
"Mm." Nene nodded, then ordered her device: "Xros Loader—Space Move!"
As the spatial corridor opened, she wiped away the tear that had escaped and smiled at him.
"Until next time, Mr. Narumi Akira."
After watching her leave, Akira turned back, looking toward the Negamon still hidden in his phone, its true body not yet revealed.
He wore a pleased grin.
"So? My 'lure the snake out of its hole' plan wasn't bad, right?"
Flawless. But there are aspects I cannot understand.
"Like what?"
Even without letting me enter the field, you could have seized the Code Crown by force and still drawn DarkKnightmon to you. Why did you bother encouraging the weak Dessert Makers to join the fight?
"When even the Digimon who hate fighting most—who only want to make people smile with sweets—are willing to step onto the battlefield," Akira said, "what excuse do the rest have left? If they won't fight, fine—but can they still justify mocking the fight?"
That I can understand. But… if the war is lost, wouldn't the situation you described collapse?
"Even if we lost, I'd spread the news that the Bagra Empire is cruel and lawless—so brutal they won't even spare unarmed pastry makers," Akira replied easily. "That would ignite an even bigger war."
"Don't underestimate public opinion," he added with a grin. "Though it's a boring hypothetical. Because with you here, I'm not going to lose—am I?"
Of course.
In this world, there is no force that can make me fail.
"Don't talk so big." Akira laughed. "What if it makes me get cocky?"
"If the Royal Knights—who've been sitting on their hands—decide to pay any price and go for a decapitation strike on me, we're done," he said. "Better to stay prudent. That's how you live long."
But if you believe that, why did you give her the bracelet that can protect her life?
"Right now our operation is small, so I can do everything myself," Akira complained. "But when the organization grows, I'm going to need proxies. I can't start recruiting then, can I?"
Based on the information I've gathered, Nene Amano should qualify as a 'promising future beauty.'
But judging from your reaction… you have no interest in her?
Akira's face twisted in disbelief.
"Isn't that obvious? I'm an Azur Lane player," he shot back. "A 'promising future' is a 'future gacha pull.' Why would I chase a little girl when there are gorgeous, mature Digimon ladies out there?"
I see…
Negamon fell silent, as if making a note of something. Then it asked again:
Then what will you do next?
"Develop the Darkness Xros Loader, obviously," Akira said. "I've been busy for three weeks. I've already extracted all the tech from SkullKnightmon's head—so it's time I finally got a Digivice, right?"
And after that?
"After that? I'll cultivate a proxy… then grab my bucket and run."
"We've made too big a splash. Sooner or later the Royal Knights will smell something off," Akira muttered. "I can't bet my life on those lunatics not going berserk."
He looked utterly sincere when he added:
"Do I look like a gambler?"
"Of course, I'm not doubting your combat power," Akira said quickly. "I'm just… very confident in how fragile my elementary-school body is. You get what I mean, right?"
Faced with such a wild, sideways answer, Negamon fell into silence.
My partner… is kind of a coward at heart?
I understand. I will accelerate the production of the Xros Loader.
And yet, strangely, this didn't make Negamon doubt him.
Instead, it produced something inside Negamon—something faint, unfamiliar, and hard to name.
Is this… why Omnimon and the others became strong?
Still… I really can't understand it.
That was what Negamon thought, quietly, to itself.
-------
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