Let's reach 250 Power Stones for an extra chapter
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The Green Goblin sets Datamon down inside a dilapidated warehouse, one of Norman Osborn's forgotten properties. Dust motes dance in the slivers of moonlight filtering through cracked windows. Rusted machinery looms like skeletal giants. The air hangs heavy with the musty scent of decay and forgotten experiments. Wires snake across the floor like metallic vines, and half-disassembled devices litter every surface.
"Worthless!" Datamon shrieks, its mechanical eye twitching erratically. Sparks erupt from its damaged dome as it stomps around the cluttered space. "That Chosen Child! Those infernal Digimon! They interfered!"
Goblin watches from a shadowed corner, arms crossed, his glowing eyes narrowed in displeasure. "Excuses, Datamon. I offered you resources, power. You failed."
Datamon whirls, its voice rising to a metallic shriek. "Analyzed! Countermeasures in place! But that boy…that power! He should not be capable of such feats!"
"And yet," Goblin sneers, his voice a low growl, "he is. Your 'analysis' proved inadequate. Your 'countermeasures,' ineffective." Goblin stalks closer, his hulking frame casting a menacing shadow. "Do not blame the Chosen Child for your own incompetence. You were outmaneuvered. You were outsmarted." The words cut deep, each one a calculated strike against Datamon's fragile ego.
Datamon recoils, its mechanical body trembling. "It was not my fault!" it sputters, its single eye gleaming with desperation. "The interference! The unpredictability of these human attachments! How was I supposed to know Peter's friend had power that far exceeds his own? You asked for the location of Project Oz to be protected, and I did so! How was I to expect that boy to be such a big threat?"
"I need results," Goblin snarls, his voice dripping with venom. "Not excuses. Not failures. Results. Can you provide them, Datamon? Or am I forced to seek…alternative solutions?"
Datamon stammers, "I... I will correct my mistakes. I will achieve results! You'll see! I am invaluable to your goals." The truth, however, is a bitter pill. Goblin might be bound to Datamon through the dark ritual of the Shadow Bond, but he has his own designs, his own madness. He sees Datamon as a tool, nothing more.
Suddenly, the air itself shimmers, as if reality is struggling to maintain its form. A discordant melody chimes, echoing through the warehouse — a bizarre mix of laughter and impending doom. Then, with a flourish, Jokermon appears, his jester's garb a riot of clashing colors in the gloom. The world around him seems to tilt at a strange angle.
"Oh dear, what a frightful mess!" Jokermon chirps, his voice laced with unsettling mirth. "Such a drab little lair, and so utterly…defeated! Do tell, what precisely transpired to create this symphony of failure?"
Datamon, despite its previous bluster, practically short-circuits with a mixture of fear and respect. "Jokermon-sama! Forgive the…disarray. The Chosen Child, he…" Datamon launches into a hurried, self-serving account of the events at Oscorp, emphasizing the unforeseen circumstances and painting himself as a victim of circumstance. "The boy was more powerful than anticipated. I was aggrieved, I tell you, utterly bamboozled!"
Jokermon waves a dismissive hand, silencing Datamon's rambling excuses. "Yes, yes, the Chosen Child grows ever stronger. How tedious. But tell me, Norman," he says, turning his attention to the hulking figure in the shadows, "did anything interesting occur on your end? Anything to break the monotony?"
The Green Goblin shifts, and his fiery eyes ignite with a predatory gleam. "There was an…encounter. A pest, interfering with my plans." He pauses, his voice taking on a guttural edge. "I was dealing with my errant son, Harry, when that Spider-Man appeared. Insignificant, really. An annoyance. However, there was another…"
Goblin recounts his battle with the Spider-Man, how the insect had surprised him with his tenacity, his agility, his infuriatingly hopeful spirit. He then describes how he nearly killed a girl trying to protect Spider-Man, thinking she was foolish to do so. "Just as I was about to show her the error of her ways, another creature appeared. A fox…a humanoid fox, with golden fur and an air of serenity. It intervened, attacking with surprising ferocity." He scoffs. "It was no match, of course. But its interference was…unwelcome."
The description of the heroic Digimon catches Jokermon's attention. His painted smile widens slightly, a spark of genuine interest flickering in his eyes. "A golden fox, you say? How intriguing. Such noble valor is quite refreshing in this dreary setting. It makes me wonder, though, where did such goodness come from? Ah, yes." A thoughtful hum escapes his lips. "The Chosen Child's influence perhaps?" The thought seems to amuse him greatly.
Jokermon's painted smile falters, a flicker of genuine caution now visible beneath the facade of amusement. His head tilts, the bells on his cap jingling softly, as if in alarm. "The girl…this girl who befriended the fox. Was there anything unique, anything…remarkable about her? Any other kind of connection to a Digimon?" A small line appears in the clown makeup on his forehead, and he takes a step back. "Could she be another…?"
"She is nothing but a friend of that pathetic Spider-Man," Goblin snarls, clenching his fists. "A distraction. An obstacle! Both that Spider-Man and the Chosen Child must be crushed, eliminated, utterly destroyed! They meddle in affairs they do not understand, disrupt plans centuries in the making!"
"Agreed!" Datamon chimes in, his mechanical voice full of malice. "Humiliation! Degradation! The Chosen Child made me look like a fool! He must pay! I will not rest until he understands the scope of his errors! His destruction is something I personally want to see!"
Jokermon raises a gloved hand, silencing the pair. "Patience, my volatile friends. Haste makes waste, as they say." He turns his gaze towards the shadowy corners of the warehouse, his expression thoughtful. "However…this girl does pose a conundrum. If she is indeed another Chosen Child, dormant, unaware…then she could become a significant obstacle. Her powers might come out at the most crucial time." He taps a finger against his painted chin. "Perhaps…a preemptive measure is in order? Eliminate her before she awakens, nip this potential threat right in the bud."
A chilling silence descends upon the warehouse, broken only by the drip, drip, drip of water. The Goblin's eyes burn with a dark glee. "An excellent suggestion, Jokermon. Eliminate all threats, leave no loose ends."
Datamon nods eagerly. "Efficient. Logical. We will crush them all."
The pact is sealed. To ensure their plans succeed, they will eliminate both heroes and potential allies. Their alliance is now more dangerous. With newfound purpose, they unite with a shared goal. A sense of impending doom hangs heavy in the air.
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