HerculesKabuterimon looked at Koshiro and felt a primal urge to kneel in submission.
The man before it no longer seemed like the quiet, reserved boy.
He felt like the very source of the Digital World, a singular, true deity.
"Tentomon. To my eyes, your evolutionary data holds no more secrets." Koshiro gazed down at the golden beetle, his touch light, his face a mask.
Tentomon. A common, insect-type Digimon.
For most, the Mega-level HerculesKabuterimon was its final form.
But for Koshiro, who now grasped the secrets of the data-world, a being akin to a sapling Yggdrasil, its evolutionary path had only just begun.
"Decode. Evolution beyond Mega."
"Insect Emperor. TyrantKabuterimon."
Koshiro's finger tapped the air.
Countless streams of data, pulsing with dark energy, instantly enveloped the golden beetle.
They split it, modified it, rebuilt it.
What emerged was an ultimate insect emperor, over a kilometer tall, its wings spread like a shroud against the heavens…
TyrantKabuterimon.
"Acceptable. This form finally carries a trace of the ultimate being's essence." A faint, cryptic smile appeared on Koshiro's data-veiled lips.
TyrantKabuterimon's body was sheathed in high-density Chronal Alloy.
A direct hit from the most powerful hydrogen bomb would leave little more than a faint scratch.
Furthermore, it could command the will of all Insect-type Digimon, mass-producing Ultimate and Champion-level insect Digimon. Its ultimate techniques, 'Insect Guillotine' and 'Insect Cyclone', one for attack, one for defense, left it with almost no weakness.
A data panel materialized before Koshiro's eyes, its information flowing into his mind.
TyrantKabuterimon hovered, emitting a low, resonant hum, a vow of loyalty to its master.
With its current power and Koshiro's decoding speed, it could produce one Ultimate-level Insect Digimon per minute, or one hundred Champion-level Digimon.
But Koshiro did not need such elite soldiers.
"Merely data. We will fill the gap with numbers." He observed the stern, purple-armored form of the TyrantKabuterimon.
He gestured, issuing a cold command.
"Maximum speed production. In-Training level, Insect-type. Estimated output: one hundred thousand per minute."
"Each unit's body is a hardened carapace. Mass density is ten times that of equivalent rock volume."
Streams of precise calculations flowed through Koshiro's mind.
The result was clear.
In thirty-two minutes and four seconds, he could produce enough Insect-type Digimon to fill the caldera of Mount Fuji.
An endless tide of chitin and data, to block the volcanic mouth threatening humanity.
This was Koshiro's choice.
Whoosh…
TyrantKabuterimon vanished, crossing the vast distance in an instant.
It stood before Mount Fuji.
Koshiro took a single step forward.
A gateway woven from data and void shimmered into existence before him.
Like a transmitted signal, Koshiro converted his form into pure data, sent it across the distance, and rematerialized on the other side… a form of teleportation.
"Begin." He gave TyrantKabuterimon a slight nod.
Rustle... rustle... rustle...
From the void, a torrent fell. Countless small, armored Insect Digimon, each impossibly dense, poured into the searing magma below.
There were no screams. Koshiro had erased their capacity for pain.
He stood in the sky, watching.
Like a god. Like a devil.
On the streets of Tokyo, the desperate populace had spilled out of their homes.
Cars sat abandoned, forming long, metallic scars through the city.
People honked horns in a frantic, useless chorus, their anxiety feeding upon itself.
Fear, impatience, worry, anger, despair… a miasma of negative emotion, so thick it was almost visible, drifted towards the Digital Rift, nourishing the Apocalymon lurking in the shadows.
Until…
"What... is that?"
"A river. A black and purple river, flowing from the moon itself into the mountain."
"Is it a miracle? Has Amaterasu come to save us?" A frantic driver, staring towards Fuji, saw the impossible sight.
His eyes widened.
A heavenly river. A true heavenly river.
It poured from the silver disc of the moon, a cascade of dark, shimmering data, directly into the volcano's fiery heart.
The water of Yomi? The Styx?
Or a divine salvation?
Just as hope began to flicker in a thousand hearts, a voice of bitter scorn cut through the crowded street.
"Again? How many times will we be fooled?"
"First, a black sun that nearly blew the mountain apart!"
"Then a golden ball of light that did nothing!"
"These 'miracles' are curses! Save yourselves! No one is coming to save Japan!"
The cynical words found their mark, extinguishing fragile hopes.
They had been deceived before. Was this any different?
Just another cruel illusion...
"Emergency Broadcast! Data from the Meteorological and Volcanological Agencies indicates Mount Fuji's activity is decreasing exponentially! Estimated time to stabilization: fifteen minutes!"
"Repeat! The primary factor suppressing the eruption is a black-purple entity, over one kilometer in size, currently positioned at the crater. It appears to be under human control and is responsible for saving Japan!"
"We are going live! To the black-purple savior! To Japan's Chosen One!"
The voice from the military helicopters boomed across the city, cutting through the despair.
Eyes widened. Tears, not of fear, but of overwhelming relief, began to fall.
They were saved.
After endless hours of terror, reduced from citizens to refugees, they were saved.
"It's him! The man with the glasses! He's the one! Our Chosen One! Our god!"
"To hell with your foreign gods! Only he is real! A god who walks among us!"
Helicopters projected his image, magnifying it against the skyline, branding his face into the memory of the city.
Even the news anchor, voice shaking with emotion, cried out,
"I was a materialist! I believed humanity was the peak of existence! That nothing stood above us!"
"Today... I finally understand. So, gods really do exist!"