Chapter 50: "Lightning Beneath the Sun"
In which hearts race, courage breaks, and the edge of death is not the end.
There were many kinds of pain.
Naruto had known most of them.
He knew what it was to bleed, to burn, to gasp for breath while life slipped through cracked ribs and broken skin. He could endure hunger, loneliness, the weight of silence after loss.
But this…
Watching Raikomaru fall—broken, bleeding—nearly dying...
That was pain of another kind.
A kind he couldn't bear.
"No… no no no!" Naruto muttered, fangs clenched, his breath hitching as Machmon raced beneath him.
He turned, eyes wild, his whole body twisting back toward the crumpled figure behind him.
Raikomaru had always followed. Had always smiled. Always believed.
He had been more than a partner.
He had been a brother.
Machmon swerved, as if sensing Naruto's instinct to turn around.
"You want to go back, don't you?" Machmon growled, his voice vibrating through the metal frame. He was running ragged—steam hissing, bolts rattling, speed pushed to its very brink. "But if you do, we all die. Raikomaru didn't fall to make us falter!"
Naruto's hands clenched tighter around the handles.
"I know," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I know."
He wanted to stop.
He wanted to scream.
To turn back. To pick Raikomaru up and carry him away from all of this.
But Raikomaru… had gotten back up.
And now, he rode the storm itself.
"So run," Naruto growled to himself, pushing chakra through every nerve. "Run until we carve death out of Groundramon's hide!"
Behind them, the tide churned—Metal Etemon laughing like thunder made of brass and cruelty.
"You think you can outrun me, glitter boy?!"
The monkey king bellowed as a black bolt of lightning coiled around his fists and—
CRACK!
The bolt struck right in front of Machmon, exploding the ground and sending Naruto and his partner flying through air like ragdolls tossed by fate.
Naruto hit the dirt first—hard.
The world spun.
Dust filled his mouth.
His ribs screamed.
He tried to move, but pain shouted louder.
"Get up," he growled, half-crawling. "Get up. We don't have time."
Machmon was sparking nearby, twitching, systems struggling to reboot.
From the smoke, Metal Etemon swaggered forward, gold glinting with malice.
"Show's over, baby," he chuckled, strumming his guitar of darkness. "You're all bark and zero bite."
Naruto spat blood. He was shaking now. His legs didn't want to listen. His lungs refused to draw in air without fire.
Was this it?
No.
Because a familiar howl echoed behind him.
A silver blur crashed into Metal Etemon's side—Weregarrurumon, fierce and wild, fangs bared.
And above them, wings of divine light descended.
MagnaAngemon, staff spinning, eyes blazing.
They landed like guardians of heaven, standing between Naruto and death itself.
"We've got him," MagnaAngemon said calmly.
"You finish the lizard," added Weregarrurumon with a grin.
Naruto's hands trembled.
He looked at his friends—one still racing, one fallen and reborn, two now standing to protect him.
He bit his lip, eyes shining with emotion.
"Thanks," he whispered. Then, louder:
"Thanks! I won't waste it!"
Machmon stirred, systems syncing again.
"I can go," he rasped.
Naruto climbed on.
His body was broken.
But his will?
Unbreakable.
"Let's finish this."
-------------------------
The battlefield sang with metal and fury.
Metal Etemon, crowned in chrome and wickedness, stood tall—a silver colossus with a guitar of chaos slung across his back. Every movement shimmered with false cheer and brutal arrogance.
Before him stood two warriors—both weary, both outmatched, but unbowed.
Weregarrurumon, clad in scars and silver fur, cracked his knuckles.
MagnaAngemon, wings of light spread wide, adjusted his grip on the Excalibur.
"Ready, holy boy?" the wolf asked with a toothy grin.
MagnaAngemon's eyes didn't waver. "We hold the line."
And then the world exploded into motion.
Weregarrurumon lunged first—his body a blur of muscle and instinct. He ducked low, slid beneath Metal Etemon's first wild swing, and raked his claws across the monkey's knees in a spray of sparks.
"Ahh, frisky puppy!" Metal Etemon cackled, twisting with absurd flexibility and booting the wolf mid-air like a kicked soccer ball.
But MagnaAngemon was already in flight, the Excalibur shining like a comet. He spun mid-air and brought the blade down in a glorious arc of holy energy.
CLAAAANG!
Metal Etemon caught the blade—with his bare hand.
"Cute trick," he sneered, sparks raining down from the clash. "But light doesn't hurt brass, choir boy."
"Heaven's Gate!"
MagnaAngemon forced his palm outward, and a golden vortex of divine light opened right beneath Metal Etemon's feet, threatening to swallow him whole.
But the monkey king laughed and kicked off the gate itself, flipping through the air and landing with a thunderous slam behind them both.
"Too slow!"
He strummed his guitar once—Black Lightning burst outward, dancing like serpents.
The bolt hit MagnaAngemon square in the back.
Boom.
The angel screamed, his wings flickering, feathers singed and body thrown forward into the dirt.
Weregarrurumon was already on him, dragging him up by the arm. "Stay on your feet, wing boy!"
"Not my... name," MagnaAngemon hissed, shaking off the smoke.
Together, they ran back into the fray.
This time they struck in tandem.
Weregarrurumon vanished in a blur—Wolf Claw lashing out from three sides, one after another. He danced around Metal Etemon's swings, dodging and countering, each blow aimed at joints and circuitry.
Meanwhile, MagnaAngemon flew in a spiral above, channeling holy sigils into the air.
"Celestial Barrage!" he roared.
Golden spheres rained like meteors, striking around the monkey king in precision bursts, boxing him in.
For a moment—just one precious breath—they had him cornered.
"Now!" the angel and the beast shouted together.
Weregarrurumon leapt—claws glowing white.
MagnaAngemon dove—blade forward.
But Metal Etemon was done playing.
His body surged with black lightning—like molten steel waking from slumber.
"Final Encore," he whispered.
And the guitar screamed.
A sonic pulse erupted. The sound was wrong—it distorted the air, shook bones, and shattered ground. The duo were blown backward, caught mid-attack.
Weregarrurumon hit the ground with a crunch.
MagnaAngemon crashed through a stone pillar, wings limp.
Metal Etemon walked through the smoke, dragging his knuckles.
"Heroes, huh?" he chuckled, licking a line of blood from his lip. "You really thought courage makes you strong?"
Weregarrurumon rose on shaking legs, one eye swollen shut, blood dripping from his maw.
MagnaAngemon staggered to his feet, armor cracked, half a wing burned.
"We didn't fight… to win," the wolf growled.
"We fought to buy him time," said the angel.
Their voices were ragged. But still…
They stood.
Metal Etemon stopped grinning.
"…I hate stubborn bugs."
And so they clashed again.
Again.
Again.
Each strike broke something—bone, armor, resolve—but the duo never gave in.
They struck from above.
They struck from below.
One claw, one blade, a flurry of desperation.
And when they could barely stand, they still raised their weapons.
Together.
--------------------
MagnaAngemon knelt by a scorched stone, blood streaking down his brow. His Excalibur trembled in his grip, flickering like a candle in the wind. WereGarurumon was crouched nearby, panting, one knee bent, fur matted with blood and soot. Still, his eyes held that wild spark.
Then—thunder clapped.
A flash of lightning ripped across the field, and through the smoke came a roar—mechanical and bestial, wild and righteous.
Raikomaru had arrived.
But not as the Leomon they once knew.
He was now Raileomon – Rider Mode, and behind him Stormfang, the monstrous beast-cycle, howled with storm-born fury. Lightning arced along its frame, illuminating the lion knight's silhouette—cybernetic armor etched with thunder veins, a great plasma-forged blade on his back, and dual shotguns holstered like sleeping beasts.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, voice deep, distorted through electric filters. "I saw someone picking on my friends."
Metal Etemon turned, licking his teeth with disinterest. "Another toy?"
He strummed his guitar, and black lightning spewed forth, crashing toward Raileomon.
But Stormfang veered sideways, riding up a crumbled wall and launching into the air. As Raileomon flew, he unholstered his Thunderhowls, aimed mid-spin, and fired both shotguns.
BLAM—BLAM!!
Each shot was a crack of thunder, forming twin arcs that collided into Metal Etemon's chest. Sparks flew, but the monkey planted his feet, barely budging.
Raileomon landed behind him in a crouch, his greatsword glowing bright.
The fight was on.
Raileomon darted forward, blade raised in both hands.
"Rail Breaker Slash!"
The sword ignited with raw lightning, and he cleaved downward. Metal Etemon blocked it with a forearm, but the strike dug deep, slicing through the golden plating and exposing circuitry beneath.
"Hmm. That tickled," Metal Etemon said, grabbing Raileomon by the throat and slamming him into a boulder hard enough to crack it.
But Raileomon growled, kicked off the stone, and unleashed Storm Chain Execution—Stormfang's side mounted chain-launchers fired, the electrified cables wrapping around Metal Etemon's arms and legs, pulling taut.
"NOW!"
WereGarurumon, bloodied but grinning, leapt in from the side. His mouth opened, and he released a stream of Ice Breath, chilling Metal Etemon's joints. Then he fired his twin pistols—rapid bursts aiming for the monkey's eyes.
Metal Etemon roared, twisting in the chains, and shattered the ground with a stomp.
The ice cracked. The chains sparked. But he was still trapped—for now.
"Holy Sword Formation!" MagnaAngemon declared above them, and six radiant swords descended like spears of judgment, skewering the ground around Metal Etemon.
He grunted in pain—wounded, cornered.
Raileomon leapt back, bracing himself. "He's too strong to take down with brute force."
"We're not trying to win!" shouted WereGarurumon. "We're trying to stall!"
"Then let's stall him together."
They moved as one.
Raileomon surged forward again, dodging a wild black lightning slash. He slid under Metal Etemon's swipe, then sprang upward, sword swinging at his ribs.
WereGarurumon used the broken terrain—ricocheting off pillars and using debris to hurl himself faster, faster—spinning mid-air, then firing twin ice rounds at the monkey's neck.
MagnaAngemon above cast a healing veil, golden light briefly wrapping around Raileomon's battered form, mending cracks in his armor.
Metal Etemon, furious now, released a sonic shriek from his guitar, dislodging the nearby debris and sending it flying. One rock smashed into WereGarurumon's shoulder, staggering him. A second nearly hit MagnaAngemon, but a holy blade redirected it.
Raileomon charged through the storm, even as rubble hit his flank. Blood sprayed. A rib cracked.
But he kept going.
Sword raised high, he drove it down—"RAIL BREAKER!"—and this time, it cut clean through Metal Etemon's shoulder.
"RAAAAAAHHH!"
Metal Etemon finally buckled.
But he did not fall.
Instead, he raised his guitar and smashed Raileomon in the side of the head, sending him sprawling across the ground. Sparks flew from his armor. He didn't move.
WereGarurumon launched himself in desperation—claws raking.
MagnaAngemon dove with Excalibur raised.
The three collided with Metal Etemon in a final furious blast of holy, ice, and thunder.
Smoke.
Silence.
And then the three warriors lay, barely conscious, in a broken crater.
But Metal Etemon…
Wasn't chasing Naruto.
They had held the line.
And in the distance…
Naruto's blade rose like the dawn.
-----------------------
On the other side of the battlefield, far from the brass roar of Metal Etemon and the thunderous wheel-burn of Raileomon's charge, a different kind of war raged—one of skies torn asunder and ground shattered into cold splinters.
The enemy came in waves—a chittering, shrieking tide of Insectoid Digimon, from skittering Kuwagamon and buzzing Flymon, to swarms of Snimon and snapping Yanmamon. The very air stank of pheromones and wing-burn, and the wind crackled with green lightning from a hundred mandibles ready to bite.
But they would not pass.
Because two stood in their way.
Zudomon, the thunder-bearded titan, towered like a glacier made flesh. Ice coated his massive shell, reflecting the light of war like a broken mirror. His legendary hammer, Mjolnir, pulsed with cold fury.
Beside him, tiny but no less fierce, Piximon floated like a star that had lost its sky. His wings sparkled with multicolored light, and his staff burned with static fire.
"You take the sky," Zudomon said, voice a low rumble.
Piximon twirled his staff. "And you take the ground. Let's dance, big guy!"
The battle began with light.
Piximon flew upward, leaving afterimages behind him. High above the battlefield, he extended his staff, channeling raw energy. The clouds themselves began to shimmer and darken.
"Pixi Tempesta!"
The skies exploded with a symphony of lightning. Arcs of blue and purple electricity lanced down like celestial spears, striking insect wings and frying circuits. The swarm screeched, several dropping in mid-flight, smoke trailing from scorched exoskeletons.
Below, Zudomon slammed his hammer into the earth.
"Arctic Devastation!!"
A shockwave burst outward, and a glacial ring spread in all directions—freezing trees, rocks, even the air itself. The very ground crackled and snapped as pillars of ice erupted, skewering charging Digimon. Rookies froze in place, encased like macabre trophies. Champions thrashed, breaking free—but slower now. He met them with blunt force.
BOOM!
His hammer crushed a Kuwagamon mid-charge, slamming it into a frozen boulder.
BOOM!
He turned and backhanded a Snimon, sending it pinwheeling into a storm pillar.
Above, Piximon was a whirlwind of light.
He flitted between swarms, striking with his staff, each touch releasing a pulse of electricity. "Pixi Bolt! Pixi Shot! Pixi Drill!" he sang with a manic grin, every name a spell, every spell a blast.
Yanmamon tried to flank him, but he flickered behind them and launched a chain lightning blast, knocking five out of the sky.
"Too slow!" he chirped, and zipped off to help Zudomon.
But the tide was endless.
A Flymon swarm breached the gap, heading toward the frozen line.
"Zudo!" Piximon called.
"I see them!"
Zudomon roared, hammer raised high, then brought it down once more—this time, the ground shattered in a jagged line, sending shards of jagged ice into the incoming swarm. They crashed mid-flight, impaled by ice fangs. The battlefield now resembled a graveyard of broken wings and frozen carapace, littered with half-melted forms twitching in the cold.
Still, the ice was cracking.
Still, the lightning flickered.
Piximon dropped to the ground, breathing hard, sparks dancing on his wings. "I think they're learning..."
Zudomon grunted. "Let them learn. I've got more."
He raised his hammer again, knuckles bleeding now, armor cracked at the shoulder. He smiled through his beard. "Let them come."
Piximon floated beside him, equally bruised, staff sparking from overuse.
Together, they stood at the breach—storm and stone, ice and iron—blocking the insect horde from breaking through.
And though the earth cracked beneath them, and the skies hissed with rage…
They did not fall.
------------------------
Rebellimon stood in awe, his spiked engine still whirring as the massive body of Groundramon disintegrated before him. The burning afterimage of Naruto's strike still seared into the battlefield—half-melted earth, a canyon carved by light, and a silent wind that smelled of scorched ozone.
Naruto's eyes met his. Firm. Focused.
"Go. They need you."
Rebellimon blinked once, then snapped a salute. "You're the real deal… Narutomon." He revved his engine and rode off to support the collapsing front line.
Naruto remained behind.
Breathing.
Watching.
Feeling.
The battlefield was a graveyard now. Smoking craters. Torn flags. Scattered metal limbs and shattered wings of the fallen. The buzzing of dying Digimon data disintegrating into the digital winds whispered all around him.
It had only been a few hours.
But they had lost so much.
And all because he had underestimated them.
He clenched his fists, trembling—not from fear, but fury.
Not at the enemy. Not even at himself.
At the reality.
At this world that refused to give him time.
At this body that was trying to tell him who and what he was supposed to be.
But he was still Naruto Uzumaki.
Whether flesh or code. Human or Digimon.
If this world wanted to make him a Digimon…
Then so be it.
Machmon's form began to shimmer.
His code unraveling.
Their bond deepening.
Their cores merging.
Naruto closed his eyes.
And let it happen.
His body turned to raw data—energy pulled into a vortex of memory and potential. He saw pieces of himself—flashes of fire and sand, of screams and laughter.
The Fourth Great Ninja War.
His hands reached out in the torrent of memory. Grasping.
Pulling.
Clawing through resistance.
The dam cracked.
Six months' worth of battle, instinct, and power flooded into his mind—and with it, the Tailed Beast Bomb.
He felt the rush of control, the spiral of destruction.
And something new.
Metal. Speed. Cold Calculation.
The combat instincts of Machmon. The ruthlessness of a battlefield predator.
And the burning will of a ninja who never gave up.
He changed.
Not into an Ultimate.
But into something else.
Something better.
NARUTOMON – CRIMSON VORTEX MODE
A Digimon forged from instinct, fury, and light-speed destruction.
His body emerged from the storm—black armor gleaming with molten red-orange veins, plates shifting like volcanic glass. The helmet was a predator's mask, kitsune-shaped with razor edges and eyes that burned like stars. Behind him, nine mechanical tails whipped through the air, each alive with power.
The Kurama Fang Blade snapped onto his back, humming.
His left arm morphed into the Chakra Morph Cannon, cycling through forms like water.
And behind him, the air warped and burned from the four plasma jet boosters mounted to his limbs and spine. Their roar drowned the battlefield.
He took a step—and the ground underfoot cracked.
Every enemy looked up.
Every friendly turned.
And they felt it—like the moment before a supernova.
Like the roar of an immortal.
The Crimson Vortex had arrived.
He spotted Metal Etemon—swaggering and loud as ever as he was beating up Naruto's friends. Still throwing lightning like banana peels.
"You're next, monkey."
Event Horizon Dash – ENGAGED
The boosters on Narutomon's back fired in perfect harmony. The air behind him exploded. Space bent. Light collapsed inward.
To the enemy's eyes, he vanished.
To the trained senses of a veteran ninja? He was a streak of gold and crimson death, dancing at the speed of immortals.
He passed through Metal Etemon.
Literally. Phased right through.
The monkey's laughter died mid-joke. His posture sagged. His limbs twitched.
And then—collapse.
The metal peeled like banana skin. Sparks erupted. Circuits shorted. And finally, the chrome body crumpled to the ground, twitching, smoking, and profoundly confused.