I watch it all play out, a horrifying scene. Kyubimon's flames, usually so potent, flicker against nothing. LadyDevimon's shadow bats turn on themselves. Angewomon's holy arrows just fizzle. Peter, my friend, is frozen. He's stuck in some nightmare Killgrave brewed up, a phantom guilt trip over Uncle Ben. My power, all this fire, this raw force, feels useless. It's like trying to punch smoke. This isn't a physical fight. It's a mind game, and Domimon is playing chess with our souls.
A deep frustration builds inside me, a hot, choking pressure behind my teeth. This isn't how it's supposed to work. My Beast Spirit, BurningGreymon, is about overwhelming force. But force is failing. I can feel the energy building, a wild, untamed power that demands release. It's a primal urge, an instinct telling me to burn away the problem.
[WILDFIRE TSUNAMI]
A roaring inferno erupts from my body, spiraling outward, consuming the illusory walls, the phantom debris. The tunnel becomes a swirling vortex of pure, destructive flame. It's massive, beautiful, a tidal wave of fire meant to scour away everything.
Domimon just stands there. The fiery storm washes over it, through it. It passes right through, like I'm attacking a ghost. The flames dissipate harmlessly on the other side. Domimon's guttural chuckle echoes in the tunnel, loud and clear.
My worst fear confirmed. Brute force means nothing here.
* * *
A cold dread wraps around me, tighter than any web. Kyubimon's fire, LadyDevimon's shadows, Angewomon's holy arrows—they just vanish. Nothing lands. It's like Domimon isn't even there, not really. Peter is worse. He stands frozen, staring into nothing. The guy who always has a plan, always a quip, now just… gone. Lost in his own head.
"Spider-Man!"
My voice cracks. He doesn't even twitch.
"We need a plan, Ethan! Your fire isn't working!"
Kyubimon stands by me, her tails twitching, a low growl rumbling in her chest. She tries to lash out again, but her movements stutter. The illusion of quicksand still ripples around her feet.
"It's not real, Kyubimon! It's not real!"
She whines, a small, frustrated sound.
"I know, Gwen," Ethan's voice is rough, strained. "It's all in our heads. This thing… it's a psychic attack. It's feeding on our fears."
He's right. My own mind feels… fuzzy. Like trying to grab smoke. But there's something else too, a cold pressure, a memory trying to surface. A piece of alien tech. An evolution item.
…
(Flashback - Gwen's Apartment - Three Weeks Ago)
The evening light streamed through my window, hitting the strange object on my desk. It wasn't flashy. Just a smooth, polished stone, dark as obsidian, cool to the touch. Ethan had tossed it to me with a shrug after a particularly gnarly Digimon hunt.
"This is for you. It is an evolution item. For Renamon," he said.
Renamon sat on my bed, watching me with her usual calm patience.
"An evolution item?" I picked it up, turning it over in my fingers. "It doesn't look like anything I've seen before. No obvious ports, no energy readings."
"Yeah, well, it's Digimon stuff. Weird, right?"
"Beyond weird. The molecular structure alone is… unusual. And the energy signature is completely dormant." I pulled out my multi-tool, extending a scanner. "No active frequencies. No ambient data. It's a blank slate."
Renamon tilted her head. "Perhaps it requires a specific trigger, Gwen."
"Maybe. But what kind?" I pressed a button on the stone. Nothing. I tried tapping it, rubbing it. Still nothing. "Is there a verbal command? A handshake protocol?"
"Ethan just gave it to you."
"Right." Ethan, ever the master of vague instructions. "Okay, Renamon. Let's try some baseline energy input."
I hooked the stone up to a small portable power cell, just enough to get a reading without frying it. Renamon placed a paw on it, trying to channel some of her own data.
"I sense nothing," she said. "No resonance."
"Hmm." I jotted down the failed test. "Okay, let's try theoretical. If it's an evolution item, it should react to a strong emotional bond. Or perhaps a specific data sequence from you."
I started running through scenarios, sketching circuit diagrams. I tried pulsing it with electromagnetic waves, then sonic frequencies. I even tried a low-level laser. Renamon watched, her tail occasionally flicking against the duvet.
"Are you certain this item is functional?" she asked, a hint of concern in her tone. "Your frustration is rising."
"I'm just… annoyed," I admitted, rubbing my temples. "It's a puzzle with no discernible rules. Every input I try yields zero output. It's like trying to debug a program written in an alien language with no compiler."
"Perhaps some items require more… subtle methods."
"Subtle methods are for things without a quantifiable energy state, Renamon." I sighed, pushing my hair back. "Look, maybe it's just faulty. Or incomplete."
Later, I told Ethan it was a bust. "It's either not activated, or it requires some kind of unique data matrix. My scans show no response. Could be defective, or maybe it needs a higher-level Digimon to even recognize it."
He just shrugged. "Don't worry. You'll figure it out."
His confidence was annoying. It made my logical explanations feel hollow. I hadn't figured it out. Not even close.
The whispers in my head turn louder, a chorus of all the times I fell short. Not enough. Not smart enough. Not fast enough. You couldn't even make that thing work. How can you protect anyone? It's my own voice, twisted and cruel. My stomach clenches.
Kyubimon lets out a sharp cry. She's lunging, her blue flames spitting, but it's at something I can't see. A phantom, I guess. She whips around, tails lashing, her eyes locking on mine for a split second. A silent plea. She's losing. She's fighting something that isn't real, and she's losing.
Peter.
His body jerks, a broken puppet. His lips move, barely audible.
"…Uncle Ben…Aunt May… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
My breath catches. That's enough. More than enough. The whispers die down. My failure, my doubts, they don't matter. Only Peter, only Kyubimon. Only now.
My hand clenches around the evolution item. It's still just a smooth, cold stone. I don't think about protocols or energy readings. I don't think about how many times I failed to make it work. Just Peter. Just Kyubimon. A desperate, sharp focus.
Please.
A faint warmth spreads through my palm. The stone pulses, a gentle, rhythmic light. It's barely visible, but it's there. Kyubimon roars, a sound of surprise and something else—recognition. Her form begins to glow, a golden aura pushing back against the dark, oppressive haze Domimon projects.
"KYUBIMON DIGIVOLVE TO!"
The chant echoes, raw and powerful. Her outline blurs, expanding. The blue flames around her paws intensify, swirling upward, forming a protective column of spiritual fire. Domimon's chuckles die in its throat.
"TAOMON!"
The light expands, washing away the oppressive purple. The twisted visions in the tunnel shimmer, then shatter like glass. Kyubimon's form stretches, refines, becoming something serene and impossibly wise. She stands taller, draped in flowing white robes, adorned with arcane symbols. A golden fox mask covers her face, but I know it's her. Her nine tails, now long and elegant, sweep behind her, tipped with the same mystical blue flames. A giant calligraphy brush, bound with spiritual energy, floats in her grasp.
She radiates a quiet, ancient strength. Not the burning aggression of a fighter, but the profound calm of a mystic. The psychic pressure in the tunnel eases. The air feels cleaner, lighter.
Domimon freezes. Its grotesque head tilts, those red eyes narrowing. Even that thing, that abomination, pauses.
"TAOMON!" Ethan shouts, his voice filled with a fresh wave of desperate hope.
Taomon turns her masked gaze toward Domimon. No words. Just a silent, serene power. The air hums with it.
***
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