MetalGreymon's metallic chest panels flared open once again, the fiery light within pulsing like the heart of a dying star. He was panting—exhausted—his body scorched and trembling with the strain of repeated Overflame attacks. But his eyes never lost focus. For his friends—for Tai—he would endure. Just a little longer.
Naruto could feel it in the air: MetalGreymon was nearing his limit. One more move… maybe two. After that, he would drop back into Agumon, helpless against the overwhelming force of Dark Etemon.
But they had no choice.
Naruto appeared in a blur beside MetalGreymon, cloak flaring, Sage Mode eyes glowing with fierce clarity.
"Just one more," Naruto said calmly. "Use those flames. I'll take care of the rest."
MetalGreymon gave a weary but determined nod. "Got it."
Poof! A clone popped into existence and dashed off to the side, preparing a new Rasenshuriken. Naruto ducked low behind the Champion's broad shoulders, his chakra already condensing into the spear in his hand. The weapon pulsed with wind-natured chakra, honed to a razor edge, whispering in his grip like a living thing.
Across the battlefield, Dark Etemon watched with disdain.
"Oh, come on," he scoffed, his voice a growling drawl. "You little gnats think I'd fall for that again? Please—I invented the act!"
His sneer widened into a malicious grin as he raised a hand. "Let's end this performance."
In a blink, tentacles surged—whipping through the ground, streaking toward the clone and MetalGreymon. Simultaneously, multiple ends rose like cannons and fired spheres of dark energy. The blasts tore through the air, screaming like missiles, aiming to obliterate the clone and melt through the last of MetalGreymon's strength.
But that had been the plan all along.
The clone grinned—and vanished in a puff of smoke.
MetalGreymon roared and unleashed his Overflame, the torrent of molten fire shooting forward like a flood from a broken dam. The sudden blaze blocked Etemon's view—just for a second.
And in that second—
Naruto moved.
Sprinting out from behind MetalGreymon like a wraith cloaked in flame, he ducked under the firelight, his spear humming with power. He didn't aim for Etemon.
He aimed for the battlefield.
The tentacles.
He could sense them—hundreds of them—spreading like veins across the earth, writhing, pulsing with that corrupt, deletion energy. But now he could see what others hadn't noticed.
The dark power… it concentrated at the tips.
The rest was just flesh and control.
And Naruto specialized in cutting things down.
He blurred into motion—flash!—his feet barely touching the ground. Every step was precise. Every slash—a calculated strike. His spear danced, arcs of wind-blades trailing behind each movement like silver light.
Slash. A tentacle fell limp.
Spin. Cut. Leap. More followed.
The spear carved through the air like a storm of blades, slicing through the mass of corrupted tendrils before they could strike. Etemon's eyes widened in horror as his web of control began to collapse.
"No—NO!"
He raised both arms in fury, commanding the remaining cables to fire. Dark orbs surged forward, dozens at a time, launching in bursts like machinegun fire.
Naruto didn't stop.
Sage Mode's precognition guided his steps. Each blast missed by a hair, or was deflected by a sudden spear spin that cut the orb in half, dispersing the energy. Naruto twisted, ducked, and countered—never losing rhythm.
And then he vanished again.
Right in front of Etemon.
The Monkey King barely reacted in time. His remaining tentacles lunged to intercept, forming a blackened wall between them. Naruto skidded to a halt, eyes narrowing.
He wasn't strong enough to break through them yet.
Not without help.
But that was fine.
He'd done what he came to do.
Behind him, the battlefield had changed. The number of cables had halved, some lying motionless, others twitching but drained of power. The assault on his friends had stopped for now.
Naruto's chest rose and fell with the weight of the fight—but his spear was still up. His will was unbroken.
MetalGreymon staggered to his knees, his fire finally fading.
Dark Etemon's grin split wider, his body shuddering with chaotic energy as he thrust both arms skyward. "You think you can dodge this?! Then let me show you REAL power!"
Above him, the sky twisted.
Black clouds swirled like a bleeding wound in the heavens. Darkness converged into a single, massive sphere of energy—an orb so heavy it pulled the light from the battlefield itself. It crackled with corruption, pulsing like a black star, and began to descend.
Naruto's eyes widened.
This wasn't just an attack. This was annihilation.
"RAAAAAGH!!" Naruto roared, hurling his Rasenshuriken with everything he had left. The spiraling sphere howled through the air like a judgment from the gods.
Beside it, MetalGreymon—trembling, gasping, burning out—opened his maw and summoned one last desperate Terra Destroyer. The blazing ball of destruction rocketed beside the Rasenshuriken, both attacks flying in unison.
They struck the descending sphere.
And vanished.
Erased. Like drops of water against a supernova.
The black orb didn't slow. It fell.
Fast.
Impossibly fast.
Naruto's breath caught in his chest. He could dodge. He could flash away, but—
Tai. Izzy. Sora. Mimi. T.K. Joe. Agumon, Tentomon… all of them.
They were right behind him.
They couldn't run. Not in time.
Tai stood frozen. His legs wouldn't move, his mind blank with terror. MetalGreymon collapsed beside him, unable to lift even a finger.
There was no escape.
For one dreadful, soul-wrenching moment—
Everyone thought they were going to die.
The black sun descended with terrifying inevitability, casting the battlefield in endless shadow. Screams tore from the children's throats. Palmon grabbed Mimi. Gabumon pulled at Matt's shirt. TK clung to Patamon, crying out his brother's name.
The air trembled.
The heat of destruction kissed the earth—
And then—
A sudden, radiant ping echoed across the field.
Like glass striking steel.
A shimmering, golden dome erupted from the edge of the battlefield, just before the sphere could make contact.
The destructive orb crashed into the barrier with the sound of a thousand thunders. The ground cracked. The force buckled the trees. A shockwave of darkness rolled outward, sweeping across the battlefield like a tidal wave of despair—
But it held.
Barely.
There, floating between life and death, was a small, proud figure.
Piximon.
His wings trembled under the pressure. His body glowed with the strain. His staff pointed upward, channeling every ounce of his power into the barrier that separated life from oblivion.
His voice cracked, but it roared through the battlefield.
"RUN, CHILDREN! I can't hold it for long!"
Time shattered into pieces.
Naruto's eyes snapped open in disbelief. Tai stared at the barrier with tears in his eyes. The others turned and ran—sprinting through cracked earth and debris, holding hands, shouting names, carrying Digimon in their arms.
"Piximon—!" Sora cried.
"Don't stop! Don't look back!" the old warrior shouted, wings flaring defiantly. "This is not the end! MOVE!!"
And as the children fled, sobbing and breathless, their last glimpse was of a lone Digimon—
A mentor.
A protector.
Standing against death itself.
The children ran.
Terror and desperation pushed their limbs faster than their minds could follow.
Matt pulled Tai onto Garurumon's back, Agumon cradled in his arms, unconscious. The others followed, breathless and shaking. The ground behind them groaned under the weight of the collapsing barrier.
Piximon strained, cracks forming in the radiant dome.
Naruto stood still.
He couldn't move—not yet.
His hands trembled at his sides. Not from fear—but from rage.
"Not again," he whispered. "Not another teacher… Not while I still draw breath."
He turned his gaze skyward—and saw it.
The Black Hole.
It hovered like a god's judgment. It pulsed, hungry and alive, expanding slowly with each breath, as if devouring the very space around it.
Naruto's mind raced.
This wasn't a true black hole—if it were, they'd all have been torn apart already. No… this was a corrupted simulation, a manifestation of dark energy given form. But its power was real enough to erase anything in its path.
The barrier shattered.
Piximon gasped as he dropped to one knee, blood from the strain dripping down his brow. The sphere of destruction fell.
And in that second—
Time froze for Naruto.
He looked at the spear in his hand.
Memories surfaced—of Gaara, of the sand spear he had once hurled with unshakable resolve.
"Wind can cut through anything."
He took a breath.
Chakra surged—wind chakra, raw and untamed. The spear glowed in his grip, growing longer, thicker, sharper. It stretched taller than Greymon, a cyclone swirling around it as Naruto poured every last ounce of energy he had into the construct.
This was it. One shot. One chance.
Piximon looked over his shoulder as the black sphere fell.
And Naruto hurled the spear.
It screamed through the air—like vengeance, like hope given form—toward the monstrous heart of the black hole.
There was a moment.
A single heartbeat.
When everything was still.
The world hushed.
Children stopped running. Matt looked back. Sora gasped. Joe tripped and rolled. TK turned, eyes wide.
Even Etemon's grin faltered.
The spear struck the black hole.
A flash.
A pulse.
And then—
Silence.
The world went dark.
No explosion.
No scream.
No shockwave.
Just… the quiet.
Devouring. Complete. Absolute.
The children were swallowed.
Piximon vanished.
Naruto disappeared.
The wind halted.
Even the digital world seemed to hold its breath.
The battlefield was empty—no trace of light, of life, of struggle.
As though the scene itself had been deleted.
As though hope had never been there to begin with.