Let's reach 400 Power Stones for an extra chapter
***
-Ethan-
A few days pass in a blur of classes, dodging Flash's glares, and pretending to care about what my teachers are droning on about. But, the best part is, I'm actually starting to enjoy hanging out with Gwen and Peter. It's almost… normal. And Jessica, well, she's been a surprise. She's still quiet, but she's definitely ward up. We actually have conversations now, without having to pry every word out of her. Turns out, she's got a dry sense of humor that I dig.
And the money? Oh, the money. Stark Industries' stock is through the roof. My bank account exploded. I'm basically Scrooge McDuck swimming in a vault of cash. It is an insane amount of money. Enough to buy out a small country. It is so much money that even if I tried to spend it all, I'd probably die of exhaustion first.
The urge to blow it all on Supply Boxes is almost overwhelming. I could buy hundreds of them, maybe even thousands. Imagine the Digimon, the items, the power! But, I resist. I know from my gar days that gacha is a fickle mistress. There's no guarantee I'd get anything good, and even a bottomless bank account isn't truly bottomless. Gotta play it smart.
"See ya tomorrow, guys," I say, slinging my backpack over my shoulder as we stand outside Midtown High.
"Later, Ethan," Peter replies, already scribbling in his notebook. Gwen waves goodbye, her smile warm and genuine. Jessica just nods, but her eyes linger on a beat longer than usual.
As I turn to head towards the subway, my phone rings. Unknown number. Usually, I ignore these, but sothing tells to pick up.
"Hello?" I answer, my voice casual.
"Ethan, right? Ethan Kepler?" The voice on the other end is unmistakable. It's Tony Stark.
"Stark? How'd you get my number?" I ask, confused.
"Details, kid. Small details."
I roll my eyes. "Alright, what's up?"
"Just wanted to give you a heads-up. Stane escaped."
My eyebrows shoot up. "He what? How?"
"Don't know the specifics. Seems like he had so… outside help. So third party got involved. Anyway, figured you should know. Be careful."
"Careful? Please. If that bucket of bolts dares to show his face again, I'll just let Greymon eat him. Again."
Tony chuckles. "Alright, alright. Just wanted to give you the warning. Later, kid." And with that, he hangs up.
Stane escaped, huh? Well, this is getting interesting.
-Stane-
The chill night air whips past as Devimon and I soar through the sky. Where the hell is this fallen angel taking ? I still don't fully trust this… thing. But, power talks, and right now, Devimon is the only one offering it.
"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice tight.
Devimon doesn't bother looking at , just keeps his crimson eyes fixed ahead. "A place where you can beco more than you ever imagined. A place where you can finally crush Stark."
He lands us in a cavernous warehouse, the kind that dots the industrial outskirts of the city. The air slls like rust and decay. Inside, the space is lit by an eerie green glow emanating from the center. As we approach, I see the source: a set of armor, unlike anything I've ever laid eyes on.
"What is this?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
"A gift," Devimon says, a hint of amusent in his tone. "Forged by a… friend. A Digimon craftsman. This armor is far beyond human tech. Stronger, more resilient, more powerful than anything you could have dread of creating yourself."
The armor pulses with that sa green energy, making the warehouse glow. It's massive, easily dwarfing the Iron Monger suit. Jagged plates of obsidian-like material form the bulk of it, interwoven with glowing green circuitry that seems to writhe beneath the surface. The helt is a grotesque mockery of a human face, with glowing red eyes and a maw filled with razor-sharp teeth. Spikes jut out from the shoulders and back, giving it a nacing silhouette. It's beautiful and terrifying all at once.
"With this," Devimon continues, "you'll be unstoppable. Stark will be nothing more than a stain on your boot."
A surge of adrenaline courses through . I can practically feel the power radiating from the armor. With this, I can crush Stark, obliterate him. I can take back what's rightfully mine and more.
"I should destroy Stark first," I say, already planning the spectacle. "Make an example of him."
Devimon raises a clawed hand. "Patience, Obadiah. Stark is a nuisance, yes, but he can be eliminated whenever we choose. There is a more pressing concern."
"What concern?" I ask, my brow furrowed.
"The boy. The one with the Digimon."
"The kid with the monster? What about him?"
"He is a 'Chosen Child', as so call him. If he is allowed to continue to grow in power, he will beco a significant threat. While he is still developing, he must be eliminated."
Chosen Child? What in God's na is he talking about? I don't know anything about that mumbo jumbo, but I'm not stupid. I know when soone knows more than I do. I'll play along. For now.
"Where do we find this… Chosen Child?" I ask, keeping my tone neutral.
Devimon smirks, and it sends a shiver down my spine. "I've already located him. But you won't be going alone."
From the shadows, another figure erges. It's a hulking monstrosity made of stone, with glowing red eyes. Runes are etched into its back, and a crude tal mask covers part of its face. It's like sothing out of a nightmare.
"Obadiah Stane, et Golemon," Devimon says, gesturing towards the creature. "Golemon will partner with you to eliminate the Chosen Child."
[Golemon]
[Level: Champion]
[Type: Mineral]
[Attribute: Virus]
[Special Move: Crimson Curse, Golem Punch]
[Golemon is a Rock/Mineral Digimon discovered during a digital analysis of an ancient curse. An ancient spell consisting of the words "plague," "curse," and "evil," is carved onto its back, apparently for the purpose of protecting it from its own poison gas. Roughly 90% of its body is composed of rock data, with limbs attached. It is an utterly emotionless Digimon that won't move an inch unless ordered to do so.]
Golemon remains motionless, its expression unreadable. "It lives only to obey," Devimon adds, as if that's supposed to reassure .
I try to hide my unease, but it's difficult. Working with a monster? It's a far cry from corporate espionage and boardroom backstabbing. But I need the power, and if this is the price, so be it.
"Fine," I say, forcing a smile. "Let's get this done."
Devimon spreads his wings, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Excellent. Now, Obadiah, it's ti for you to suit up."
I approach the armor, drawn to its raw power. As I reach out and touch the cold tal, a jolt of energy surges through . I step inside, and the armor closes around , encasing in its embrace.
The power is incredible. It's like nothing I've ever felt before, a million tis stronger than the Iron Monger suit. I can't wait to unleash it.
That kid, whatever his na is, won't know what hit him. And Stark? He's next.
***
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