"Alone in such a place…" the woman repeated, her head tilting gently to one side. "Did you get lost, little boy? Or were you summoned here all by yourself?"
Her words were dipped in kindness, the sort that warmed like summer sunlight. But Michael didn't seem to feel that warmth. The little Patamon narrowed his eyes and stepped in front of Takeru, wings flaring protectively. Then, with a surprising burst of strength, he nudged his partner back, away from the woman's reach.
Takeru stumbled slightly, confused, a flicker of doubt forming in his mind. Still, the sight of this elegant stranger—an adult, a human—was too jarring, too hopeful to dismiss easily. It had been weeks, maybe even a month, since he'd seen someone who looked anything like someone from home. Most of the time, it was just ruins, shadows, and monstrous things with teeth.
But now, here was a grown-up. A human woman. And she didn't seem lost or frightened or half-mad. She looked… composed. Beautiful, even. Like one of the kind older sisters from the neighborhood who used to bring treats on holidays.
Still, Michael's unease prickled in the air.
Takeru's fingers curled tightly around the strap of his bag. "Who are you?" he asked, voice soft but clear. "Why are you alone in a dangerous place like this?"
The woman straightened, her smile still in place, though it thinned just a little. "My name is Ariel," she said, and she dipped her head slightly, a graceful nod that reminded Takeru of how teachers greeted children during formal events. "And I'm not alone, sweetheart. I was summoned here too—just like you. I have a partner."
From the folds of her red cloak, Ariel withdrew something that glinted softly in the dim light.
A digivice. Purple in color, with swirling silver lines that gleamed faintly as though etched by lightning. She held it up just long enough for Takeru to recognize it before tucking it away once more.
"I'm never truly alone," she said, almost affectionately.
As if on cue, a shadow dropped from above—silent and swift.
THUD.
Dust flew up from the broken marble floor as a massive spider landed beside her with practiced ease. Its body was dark, armoured, and angular, with long, bladed legs that clicked softly as it adjusted its weight. Takeru flinched back instinctively, and Michael fluttered before him with a growl rumbling in his small chest.
The creature turned to face them. Eight eyes shimmered like onyx. A mouth split to reveal jagged, wet fangs.
Takeru's digivice buzzed and whirred softly. The screen flickered to life.
Name: Taratectmon.
Type: Insectoid / Virus.
Level: Champion.
Speed: Very High.
Venom: Deadly—paralytic and corrosive.
Notable Trait: Engineered to hunt flying and draconic species.
Takeru stared at the words. Hunt dragons?
"Impressive, isn't he?" Ariel said, glancing fondly at the hulking spider as though he were a well-behaved dog. "Don't worry—he won't bite unless you're a threat. And you, little one, are much too cute to be dangerous."
Her tone was soft, but Taratectmon's fangs clicked once—too close to a threat for comfort.
Michael took a step back, wings still raised, and Takeru's hand unconsciously reached for his own digivice. The illusion of safety had cracked like ice underfoot.
"You said you were summoned here too," Takeru whispered. "Do you… know why? Do you know how to go home?"
Ariel's smile didn't fade—but for a brief second, just a fraction of a moment, her face darkened. Her lips tightened. A flicker of something—anger? grief?—flashed behind her golden-rimmed glasses.
"No," she said at last. "But I know who does."
She looked up.
Toward the distant, glowing tree on the horizon.
Yggdrasil.
-------------------
Takeru tilted his head, blinking. "If you know the way… then why are you still here?"
Ariel's expression didn't shift much, but her fingers curled slightly in the folds of her cloak. She looked past him, toward the dark skyline of the ruined city, and then back at her partner. Taratectmon was standing perfectly still, but its many eyes were ever-watchful, scanning the shadows as if even now it sensed something lurking.
"Because getting to the World Tree isn't as simple as heading north," she said at last, her voice gentle, measured. "The path is filled with places like this—dark, rotted, crawling with things that would tear you apart for sport. If I'm going to cross them safely, I'll need Taratectmon to evolve to Ultimate. Anything less would be suicide."
The word hung in the air like smoke.
Takeru gulped, but he understood. Really understood. He'd seen what champion-level threats could do. Even Angemon, as strong and brave as he was, could only last so long before the digivice tugged him back down to Patamon. And then… he was just Michael again. A small, round, orange Digimon with soft wings and big eyes—not a warrior.
Michael nudged his partner's foot with his nose. Takeru looked down, then up again.
"I have friends," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. "We got separated when we were pulled into this world. But if I find them… we'll be okay. Some of them have Ultimate-level partners. Three, actually. If we meet up with them on the way, we can reach Yggdrasil together."
For the first time, Ariel's composure cracked into something more human—eyes widening just slightly, lips parting in genuine surprise before they curved into a slow, dazzling smile.
"Oh, that is good news," she said softly, eyes gleaming behind her golden-rimmed shades. "You're not just a sweet boy—you're lucky, too. You've just given me a little bit of hope."
Takeru smiled back, shyly. But before he could say more, a low gurgle sounded from the silence.
He froze.
Michael blinked, then turned his head in the exact same moment as Takeru.
GRRRROWWLLLL.
It came again—this time louder, in stereo. Both of them looked down at their bellies, and even in the eerie half-light of the ruined city, Takeru flushed crimson.
"Oh…" he mumbled. "Sorry. We haven't eaten since yesterday…"
Ariel chuckled, a lilting sound that felt like wind chimes on a summer porch. "Poor darlings," she said. "You're practically skin and bones."
She turned on her heel with effortless grace, her cape swaying behind her as she beckoned them forward.
"Come," she said, "my hideout isn't far. I have food. Safe food. We'll eat, rest, and when you're feeling strong again… we'll plan the journey. Together."
Takeru hesitated for a heartbeat, glancing toward Michael.
The Patamon gave a small, wary hum—but didn't object.
So, holding his partner close, Takeru followed the strange, kind woman into the heart of the broken city, not knowing that their path toward Yggdrasil had already begun to twist.
----------------
Unknown to the sweet little boy clutching his Digimon partner like a lifeline, the kind lady with the gentle voice and motherly smile was no lady at all.
Ariel was no human.
She never had been.
Long ago, before the stars of the old Digital World had blinked out one by one, there had been a Digimon. Crawling in the shadows of servers long dead. Whispered about in code fragments and forbidden archives.
She was not born of light, but of the code that thrived in its absence.
A queen of webs. A predator of minds.
Her name was Arachne.
And once—only once—she had tasted true divinity. She had devoured a DigiDestined.
Not merely a partner, not simply a Digimon—both. Man and monster. Flesh and code. Their cries had been exquisite, their data ripe with potential. The evolution that had followed tore her free from the limits of her own kind, and when the world ended… she remained. Alone. Undying.
Waiting.
And now—now—the waiting was over.
The boy walking beside her was small, frightened, and entirely unremarkable… at least at first glance. He wore hope like a badge, that much was obvious. It shimmered around his neck—a golden crest that pulsed faintly with his heartbeat.
Hope, of all things.
How poetic.
How deliciously ironic.
The boy didn't know. He couldn't know. He looked up at her with wide, trusting eyes, so guileless it made her fingers twitch with dark amusement. And his Digimon partner—Michael—was weak. No more than a Champion level at best. Not yet ripened. Not yet worthy of consumption.
But potential. Oh, yes.
She could see it in the way the light clung to the crest when the boy clutched it during fear. She could hear it in the nervous tremble of his voice, the way he whispered his friends' names like prayers.
He had the seed.
All she had to do… was help it grow.
Behind her dark glasses, hidden from mortal sight, her eyes gleamed gold and red like coals buried in ash. Her mind spun plans faster than her eight-legged partner could weave webs.
They would travel together. She would guide him, protect him, help him evolve. Slowly, carefully, so as not to alert the others. And when he finally reached the level she needed…
She would consume.
Not with fangs, no—though Taratectmon would enjoy the scraps.
No, Arachne would unravel his code one thread at a time.
She would eat his hope.
And then, once again, she would ascend.
But for now…
She smiled.
"Are you alright, dear?" she asked, voice as smooth as silk. "You're quiet."
Takeru looked up and offered a sheepish smile, one hand over his stomach. "Just hungry again, I think."
Arachne chuckled softly. "Then it's a good thing we're nearly there."
And with that, the spider queen led the little lamb into her web.
--------------
Arachne's lair did not look like a lair.
If one were to step inside without knowing better, they might have believed they'd walked into a luxury hotel suite at the top floor of some grand, forgotten skyscraper. The doors hissed open without a sound. The lights—soft and golden—glowed like morning sunshine pouring through sheer curtains. The floors were polished white marble laced with veins of silver. There was not a trace of dust anywhere. Not a single sign of decay, or danger.
"Make yourself at home, little one," Arachne purred, holding her arms open like an aunt welcoming a long-lost nephew. "You deserve a bit of comfort, don't you think?"
Takeru, wide-eyed and speechless, clutched Michael close as he took a hesitant step forward. He had expected coldness, darkness—danger. But this? This felt like a dream. A small voice in his heart whispered too good to be true, but he was a child who had walked for miles, starved for days, and stared down the eyes of giant spiders in ruined cities. So, he followed her in.
First came the bath.
It was enormous—larger than some swimming pools, filled with warm, bubbling water that shimmered faintly with healing properties. Michael floated alongside him as Arachne hummed an old melody, adjusting the temperature just right.
"There," she said gently, offering a fluffy towel and a robe of rich crimson velvet. "All clean and warm."
Next came the food.
A table taller than he was had been filled end to end with everything a little boy could dream of—ripe fruit in brilliant colors, freshly baked breads, cheeses from who-knew-where, and even golden-brown roasted chicken legs seasoned just the way he liked them. There was pudding and jelly and a chocolate fountain bubbling like a volcano of sugar.
Michael was more cautious, nibbling on fruit while keeping his wings spread just enough to fly at a moment's notice. But Takeru? He ate with stars in his eyes.
And after that, when his belly was full and his hair still damp from the bath, Arachne brought him to a grand lounge with oversized cushions and soft blankets. The television—how strange it was to see one!—flickered on with a soft hum, showing old cartoons he hadn't seen in years.
Takeru laughed for the first time in days. A proper, unguarded laugh.
Michael stayed close, ever-watchful. But even he relaxed a little when Arachne entered one last time with a book in her hands.
"It's been so long since I've read this one," she said, settling down beside him. "Would you like to hear a story before bed?"
Takeru nodded, already curling beneath a soft quilt.
Arachne opened the book—its pages cracked ever so slightly with age—and began to read.
Her voice was like warm honey. The tale was of a prince who wandered into a forest of shadows and found a guardian in the form of a great beast. Together, they searched for a star that had fallen from the sky, hoping it would grant them a wish to bring peace to their broken world.
Takeru's breathing grew softer.
His eyes fluttered.
Michael nestled close.
And Arachne, her voice never faltering, closed the book with a soft snap once the story ended.
She looked down at the boy sleeping soundly beside his glowing crest of hope, and her smile twisted at the corners like silk curling in heat.
"Sleep well, little prince," she whispered. "Tomorrow, we begin shaping you into something… far more useful."
-----------------------
The jungle screamed.
Not with voices, but with explosions of color, venom, and chaos. Leaves the size of rooftops burst apart under the weight of battle. Trees shattered like matchsticks. The air stank of fruit and poison.
Naruto darted through the underbrush like a streak of light, his coat fluttering behind him as Piximon flitted above, wings shimmering with pink light and streaks of icy wind trailing from his wand. Behind them, Raikomaru—his Leomon form rippling with muscle and grit—leapt from stone to root, his sword humming with tension.
"Left!" Naruto shouted, slicing through hanging vines with a Fūton: Kazekiri no Jutsu—Wind Cutter Blade. The air split open in a sharp hiss, carving a clean path forward.
Piximon followed swiftly, shielding them from above with a wide-spread Pixi Barrier as a blast of Tropical Venom sprayed toward them like a plume of rotting gas from Toropiomon's maw.
"Ugh! That stench!" Naruto gagged mid-jump. "Smells worse than a rotten durian stuffed with gym socks!"
Above them, Toropiomon flapped its vibrant, grotesque leaf-wings, showering the canopy with glowing droplets. One drop struck a tree trunk and sizzled, boring a hole straight through the bark.
Behind them, two Ajatarmon moved like shadows—silent, deadly, tribal warriors leaping from tree to tree with brutal agility. Their movements were so perfectly synchronized that they didn't even need words.
Thunk!
An Assault Hatchet missed Naruto's back by inches and embedded itself in a tree with a deep crack. Seconds later, another hatchet came flying—this time aimed at Raikomaru. He turned mid-jump, parrying with his gauntlet, but the impact sent him crashing into the underbrush.
"Raiko!" Naruto shouted.
"I'm fine!" Raikomaru growled, rolling to his feet and unleashing a Lion King Fist toward the trees. A blast of golden energy surged forward, tearing through vines and undergrowth and knocking one Ajatarmon from the canopy.
The tribal Digimon struck the ground hard, groaning as it slammed against a stone. But its partner was already retaliating—its head flaring with energy as it released Shotgun Moss. Dozens of green, glowing needles burst from its hair and whistled through the air.
Piximon barely managed to intercept them with a barrier, but the shield cracked and fizzled.
"I can't hold this much longer!" Piximon shouted, zipping left as a few stray needles grazed his wing. He winced and dipped, sparks flying.
Suddenly, the sky turned orange. Toropiomon released Petally Carnage—a swirling storm of burning pollen that exploded on contact. One blast grazed Naruto's shoulder, knocking him sideways with a hiss of pain. He landed rough, tumbling across the earth before pushing himself up, blood dripping from a burn on his arm.
"Keep moving!" he barked.
Another blast of wind surged forward from his palm, a mini-tornado spiraling up to delay their pursuers.
The jungle grew narrower. Roots clawed at their feet. Trees leaned in like watching sentries. Raikomaru roared, cleaving through one thick trunk that blocked their path, while Piximon summoned a freezing gust to slow their enemies. The frozen air collided with one Ajatarmon mid-leap, causing it to falter and crash hard, vines tangling around its limbs.
But it didn't stop.
Neither did the other one.
And Toropiomon—bleeding now from where Piximon's lightning had struck it—screeched in rage, its wings glimmering as it prepared one last Tropical Venom.
"We've got to split up!" Naruto called out. "Piximon, take Raiko and loop around east—I'll lead these guys away!"
"You'll get killed!" Piximon snapped.
"I'll be fine. Tell Tai I still owe him ramen!"
Without waiting, Naruto turned and flared his chakra, blasting forward like a wind-fueled comet.
The jungle swallowed him, the monsters howling behind.
----------------------
This was a plan birthed in motion—imperfect, perilous, but just cunning enough to work.
Naruto and Piximon hadn't spoken it aloud; there hadn't been time. Just a glance—a shared look in the haze of burning pollen and razor-leafed trees—and they understood. Naruto would be the bait, the storm. Piximon and Raikomaru would become the shadowed fangs that struck from behind.
The trio split like sparks from a bonfire.
Naruto, his clothes torn and dirt-smudged, was already weaving chakra like an artist painting fury across the canvas of the jungle. But even so, there were limits to how weak they could appear to their enemies. Raikomaru, despite his ferocity, was only using two tails' worth of the transformation Naruto could gift him. Any less, and the Ultimate-level enemies behind them would have him for dinner.
Naruto had a choice to make: he coulod fught alone using Sage mode or he could fight alongside his team. Looking at the three ultimate level digimon, it was clear that fighting alone would be extremely dangerous and he couldn't afford to get hurt. So, he was using his Two Tail form at first to provide his partners that boost. However, now it was not time to enter the next stage. So, he let it go.
And entered the Six-Tails Form.
It was like setting fire to the air itself.
Chakra surged from his body in violent, whipping tendrils—red, volatile, alive with malice and motion. His body became a silhouette wrapped in power, eyes gleaming white through the storm. Trees bowed away from him. Stones cracked under his feet.
Even Raikomaru and Piximon, miles behind, felt the surge. It spilled into them like a dam had burst—enhancing their strength, sharpening their instincts. Their very cores throbbed with a borrowed savagery.
Naruto tore through the jungle like a beast reborn.
His feet barely touched the ground as he moved, claws of chakra lashing out on instinct, slamming into tree trunks and thick vines that erupted in splinters. Above him, Toropiomon shrieked, a blossom of corrupted nature, flapping its toxic wings and spewing clouds of Tropical Venom into his path. Two Ajatarmon, their faces carved from stone and silence, leapt from branch to branch, weapons glinting.
They thought they were hunting prey.
Naruto grinned beneath the snarl of chakra.
He unleashed a barrage—beams of raw energy exploding from his mouth, his tails, even his claws. They weren't meant to kill—just sting. Just enough to keep the monsters close. And they followed.
They always followed.
Through thickets and slopes, across roots as thick as houses, Naruto led them to a roaring waterfall—nature's veil, pounding down like the drums of war. He paused at its edge, panting, letting the form flicker slightly, as if he were weakening.
The illusion worked.
Toropiomon hovered higher, its petals whirling like a spinning sawblade. The two Ajatarmon came from the flanks, blades already drawn, eyes locked onto their seemingly vulnerable quarry.
Then, they struck.
Both ninja Digimon launched downward, hatchets gleaming with malice and speed. One moved for Naruto's shoulder, the other his spine, intending to cleave him clean in two.
They never reached him.
A crack of lightning split the sky.
Piximon, now cloaked in the burning red of the Six-Tails shroud, descended like a judgment from the heavens. His wand crackled with energy as he hurled a Red Lightning Spear straight into the chest of the airborne Toropiomon. The spear hit with a blinding flash—exploding on impact—sending the gaudy monster spiraling backwards, wings ablaze.
The air turned gold.
Raikomaru flew from the side, a comet of roaring power. His own form wreathed in flickering red, his mane dancing like flame, he punched upward with a fully charged Lion King Fist, colliding with one Ajatarmon mid-air. The forest roared with the impact, trees falling in the shockwave. The tribal Digimon's eyes went wide as it crumpled from the blow, crashing into the stones below.
The second Ajatarmon faltered, instincts kicking in.
Too late.
Naruto raised his head. His grin had vanished, replaced by something primal. Terrifying.
He opened his mouth, inhaling sharply. The chakra condensed between his fangs like a sun being born.
Then—
Boom.
A Chakra Beam ripped through the waterfall, through the air, through everything. It tore a hole in the very sky, the sheer force erasing sound itself. For a heartbeat, the world turned red. The final Ajatarmon had no time to scream.
He was gone.
So was Toropiomon.
Silence fell, save the thundering of the waterfall and the cracking of scorched earth.
Smoke curled from Naruto's shoulders. His breath came heavy. The Six-Tails flickered behind him, then steadied.
Piximon landed beside him, scorched but standing. Raikomaru knelt on one knee, one arm limp, blood dripping down his knuckles.
But they were alive.
And their enemies… weren't.
-----------------------
The jungle was quiet now. Unnaturally so.
Trees still smoked from the battle, their leaves singed, and a few unfortunate critters were crawling out from the wreckage like survivors of a thunderstorm wedding. The waterfall still roared in the background, unaware that it had just hosted a battle capable of scaring the leaves off half the forest.
Naruto flopped down onto a rock like a soggy rag, breathing heavily. "Okay. Note to self… next time, don't antagonize the airborne fruit salad with nuclear breath."
Piximon fluttered down beside him, half of one wing still smoking. "Note to self… next time, don't bait said fruit salad by yelling 'You smell like expired mangoes!' in its face."
Naruto chuckled, then winced. "Ow. Laughing hurts. Breathing hurts. Being alive hurts."
Raikomaru staggered out from behind a boulder, his hair sticking in about sixteen directions, his fur frazzled like someone had tried to microwave a lion plushie. "You know what else hurts?" he groaned. "Getting hit in the ribs with a vine-wrapped battle axe. That hurts. A lot."
"You're welcome," Naruto said, giving him a lazy salute. "If I hadn't drawn them in, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to heroically crash into a tree."
"I didn't crash!" Raikomaru protested. "I was… tactically repositioning myself using the natural camouflage of bark!"
"You screamed, 'MY SPINE!'," Piximon deadpanned.
"That was code," Raikomaru said with utmost seriousness. "It meant: 'Hold on, I'm about to do something cool.'"
"You held on to the tree like it was your mother," Naruto grinned.
"Mothers are important," Raikomaru snapped, crossing his arms, then instantly wincing. "Ow. Okay, maybe my shoulder's dislocated. Or broken. Or gone. Anyone seen my arm lately?"
Piximon rolled his eyes and began spinning his wand. "Hold still. I've got healing spells."
"Oh no," Raikomaru muttered. "Last time you healed me, I grew feathers for a week."
"That was a side effect!" Piximon said defensively. "And honestly, you looked majestic. Like a battle chicken."
"Battle rooster," Naruto added helpfully. "Don't forget the comb."
"Traitors," Raikomaru grumbled. "Both of you."
There was a pause.
Then Naruto said, "At least we didn't melt into fruity goo. So, you know, win?"
Piximon snorted. "Barely. I still smell like pineapple vomit."
"Better than mossy armpit," Raikomaru said, wrinkling his nose. "That one Ajatarmon sneezed on me. I saw my life flash before my eyes. It was very short and mostly involved trees."
"I still can't believe we pulled that off," Naruto admitted, flopping onto his back and staring up at the smoky sky. "We're either geniuses… or complete morons with good luck."
"Why not both?" Piximon said cheerily. "Like cooking with a flamethrower. Technically it works."
Raikomaru groaned again, laying down beside him. "I need a vacation. Somewhere without trees, poison, or Digimon who can throw battle axes like boomerangs."
"I know a beach dimension," Naruto said thoughtfully. "No killer plants. Just killer coconuts."
"I'm in," Raikomaru muttered. "As long as no one throws anything at me for a week. Especially not mangoes."