Chapter 46: An Existence from Ancient Times
"It's finally... over..."
Watching DanteDevimon's colossal form gradually dissolve into a cascade of glittering data, Gatomon let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. She had been observing the entire battle from a safe distance, tending to Yamato and the other children, and the tension had been unbearable.
With DanteDevimon's demise, the oppressive dark clouds that had smothered File Island for so long could finally begin to scatter, allowing slivers of clean, digital sunlight to pierce through. The price, however, had been steep. Most of the island's Digimon population had been consumed, becoming nothing more than stepping stones for Devimon's monstrous evolution.
Heh... how ironic, Gatomon thought, a flicker of dark humor crossing her mind. For all his complex schemes and grand ambitions, Devimon ended up being completely outmaneuvered by a child who was barely born.
A sarcastic chuckle escaped her, but it was quickly replaced by a powerful surge of pride that warmed her chest.
Did you see that? she thought, her spirit soaring. Mizuki and Nyaromon—now Belphemon—they're both children I helped guide!
Just as she was basking in the reflected glory, a faint sound of movement drew her attention. The soft crunch of footsteps grew closer, and soon Koushiro, leaning heavily on Mimi for support, came into view.
"Gatomon, how are things over here...?" Koushiro asked, his voice strained. He scanned the area, his anxious gaze finally landing on a familiar figure standing not far away. The knot of fear in his chest instantly loosened. "Taichi—Taichi, is he—"
"So, Mizuki made it," he breathed, a wave of relief washing over him. "I'm glad... cough, cough!"
"Koushiro?!" Mimi cried out, startled as he doubled over in a violent coughing fit. Her face paled with worry, and she fumbled to support him. "Are... are you alright?!"
"I'm fine," Koushiro managed, shaking his head. "Just... a little tired. I'll be okay once I catch my breath." He looked up at Mimi's pretty face, now just inches from his own, and a faint blush crept up his cheeks. He quickly turned his head away.
Unfortunately for him, their two partners had a front-row seat to the entire exchange.
"Koushiro, your face is so red..." Tentomon buzzed innocently.
"It is, it is~" Palmon chirped in agreement.
"Gah—!" Koushiro sputtered, his face now burning.
Mimi just tilted her head, a picture of pure, curious confusion.
Hearing the commotion, Taichi glanced over his shoulder before turning back to Mizuki. Cradling his partner, who had devolved from the mighty MetalGreymon back into a tiny Koromon, he walked closer.
"Mizuki, what's wrong?"
From the moment the battle ended, Taichi had noticed something was off. Mizuki was just standing there, leaning on his parasol, his expression unreadable. There was no joy, no relief—none of the emotions one would expect after such a hard-won victory.
A seed of doubt began to sprout in Taichi's mind. "Don't tell me... Devimon isn't really defeated yet?"
"...Who knows?" Mizuki replied after a long, silent moment, his eyes fixed on the last remnants of DanteDevimon's dissipating data. "Devimon may have lost his mind after evolving, but the intellect he possessed before that was formidable. It's not impossible that he left some kind of contingency in place."
"If that's true, then that guy is just too much trouble," Taichi said, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I heard from Elecmon... no, from you, Gatomon," he corrected himself, nodding toward her. "You said he's fought you guys many times before!"
"Even a crushed centipede doesn't lie still," Mizuki murmured, his gaze never wavering from the spot where their enemy had fallen.
In truth, Mizuki was likely overthinking it. Evolving to the Ultimate level was an incredibly taxing feat; it was doubtful Devimon had the spare energy or foresight to prepare a backup plan.
And yet, the vague, ominous premonition coiling in his gut was no illusion.
It was the chilling certainty that a hidden observer, a presence that had been watching this entire drama unfold from the shadows, was finally about to make its move.
Did I... fail?
On the very brink of annihilation, a flicker of Devimon's original consciousness sparked back to life, breaking free from the madness that had consumed him. His awareness was adrift in an endless, suffocating darkness. As memories of his repeated defeats flooded his mind, he clenched his fists, a wave of unbearable unwillingness coursing through his fading data.
But before he could unleash a final, frustrated roar into the void, a smooth, magnetic voice echoed from the depths of the darkness.
"Little one~ Does it sting, this feeling of failure?"
"!?"
Devimon's head snapped up, but his surroundings remained pitch black. There was nothing, and yet, there was a presence.
"Who are you?!" he demanded.
"Hehe~ Who I am isn't important," the voice purred, laced with an ancient amusement. "What's important is that you've piqued my interest. So, I've decided to help you... just a little."
"What is your purpose!?" Devimon shot back, his instincts screaming at him. There was no such thing as a free lunch in the Digital World.
The unseen existence merely chuckled, its tone casual, almost lazy. "Purpose, you ask? Yes, for a creature like you, purpose is very important, isn't it?" The voice paused, as if savoring the moment. "If I had to give one, then let's just say... it's for entertainment."
"!!!"
As the words settled, a sliver of the entity's true aura bled into the darkness. In that instant, Devimon understood. The being speaking to him possessed a level of power so immense it was fundamentally beyond understanding. Even without seeing a physical form, he could feel the crushing weight of eons in its voice alone. This was a being from the most ancient of times.
Could it be... the one behind the Dark Masters?
The thought stunned him. His wariness vanished, replaced by a desperate, groveling hope. "My Lord," he said, his voice trembling with reverence. "Please, forgive my rudeness."
"I am unwilling to fail like this! I want to live!" he screamed into the void. "I want to defeat that hateful Belphemon!"
"No problem," the voice replied smoothly. Devimon heard the distinct, sharp snap of fingers. "After all, that's why I'm here."
The sound echoed, and a torrent of immense power surged into Devimon's dissolving core. It was more than just supremely pure dark data; there was something else, a physical object being gifted to him.
It looked like a crystal.
Flawless and complex, it pulsed in the darkness with an alluring, vital aura. The moment his claws closed around it, Devimon felt a tide of overwhelming strength flood his entire being.
"I... Is this... new power!?" he stammered, his voice cracking with disbelief.
"So powerful!"
"I—I can feel it! A powerful body... and such potent vitality—!"
"OHHHHHHH!"
With a final, ecstatic roar, Devimon's form was ripped from the dark dimension, reborn.
After watching him depart, the existence in the darkness seemed to sigh, a note of contemplation in its voice. "I didn't expect that little one's body to contain a remnant left by that one. Monzaemon's data, is it?"
A low chuckle rumbled through the void. "I'll just borrow it for a bit. I hope Daemon won't get too angry. After all, besides getting angry, there's not much else he can do, is there?"
The entity fell silent for a moment, and then its gaze shifted, piercing through the layers of reality and darkness, finally settling upon the young man who still stood vigilantly on the battlefield below.
"Oh? Did he perceive something?" the voice mused. "But never mind. It makes no difference."
"Let me see what you're truly capable of, you who were chosen by The Constant."
"I hope you and your little one can reach the same heights as that other little one... that existence beyond specification, unconstrained by the world itself."
"Besides that one V-dramon, will a second one be born?"
"I'm looking forward to it," the entity said, its tone utterly serene.
It was a casual attitude, one that suggested victory and defeat were meaningless concepts. This wasn't a posture born of arrogance, but of a genuine, complete indifference to everything. Light and darkness, continuation and destruction—it was all the same.
It was as if, for this being, the meaning of all existence had been reduced to a single, simple purpose.
Amusement.
That's all.
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