Ikaris's mandate hung in the air, heavy and absolute. *Tomorrow.* The word felt both entirely too soon and agonizingly far away. I looked at Conner, who was still clenching the fabric of his new shirt, his jaw set in a rigid line of barely contained fury over the theft of his Crest of Light. Wally was staring at the floor, the playful energy entirely drained from his posture. Kaldur stood motionless, processing the sheer volume of catastrophic news we had just been handed.
"No," Conner said softly, his voice trembling with a dangerous edge. "We can't wait. Myotismon has the Crest of Light. Every hour we waste here is an hour he spends trying to break it. If he corrupts it, we lose our strongest advantage."
"I understand your urgency, Conner," Ikaris replied, his tone perfectly even, projecting a serene authority that refused to be shaken. "But you are running on empty. MagnaAngemon's light healed your physical wounds, yes, but your minds are frayed its been over a week since you got here and you've never stopped moving since. Your partners are the same if not worse as they are still children they may keep up with you physically but they do not have the mental energy reserves yet to keep going like this. Rushing into the Server Continent right now, disorganized and exhausted, is exactly what Etemon and Myotismon want you to do."
Piximon fluttered up from his cushion, hovering at eye level with Conner. For once, the tiny pink trainer wasn't shouting or brandishing his spear. He looked solemn. "The messenger speaks the truth, boy. You survived Devimon through sheer willpower and a miracle of light. But the Server Continent is not File Island. The enemies there are ruthless, organized, and infinitely more powerful. You need rest. One more day of recovery will not change the balance of power, I assure you of that. But charging in blindly certainly will."
Kaldur placed a steady hand on Conner's shoulder. "They are right. We cannot fight an army of Champions lead by a Ultimate if we cannot even think clearly. We stay today. We rest. Tomorrow morning, we find Whalemon and cross the ocean."
Conner looked like he wanted to argue, but a soft nudge from Gatomon who while just as if not more angry then him but agreed with everyone deflated his anger. He nodded once, stepping back.
"If we are staying, then we use this time to prepare," I said, stepping forward. I wasn't going to just sit around and wait for the executioner. My mind was already shifting into the tactical space Batman had drilled into me. "Piximon, you know Etemon's territory better than anyone. If his domain is a desert, what kind of defenses are we looking at? Give us specific intel on his traps."
Piximon huffed, crossing his tiny arms. "I do know a little about them, though it is really just common stuff. Pitfalls masked by holographic sand, shifting dunes that swallow you whole, that sort of thing. He also loves using fake oasis villages to trick you into letting your guard down. His minions will pose as friendly locals, wait for you to fall asleep, and try killing you in your sleep. Or he'll throw you into a labyrinth of mirrors under the sun to boil your brains. A maze or two... things anyone with common sense can get out of, if you ask me personally."
Wally and I exchanged a very tense look. I didn't know what kind of deranged survival standards Piximon considered 'common sense,' but the idea of a fake village designed to murder us in our sleep was incredibly frightening. Given how exhausted we had been upon arriving at Primary Village, we definitely might have fallen for a trap like that if we hadn't been warned in advance. I made a mental note to establish a strict rotation of night watches the moment our boots touched the sand.
"Anyway," Piximon continued, his tone darkening, "the physical traps are annoying, but what you really have to worry about is his Dark Network. That damn thing is what really makes dealing with Etemon so troublesome. Otherwise, I could have just killed the son of a bitch myself ages ago."
"The Dark Network?" Kaldur asked, his eyes narrowing. "What exactly is it?"
"It is a massive, continent-spanning system of cables and fiber optics buried beneath the desert," Piximon explained, gripping his spear tightly. "Etemon uses it to control the entire Server Continent. It functions as his personal surveillance and weapon system. Through the cables, he monitors the entire desert region, allowing him and his underlings to track anyone they want. There are no blind spots so get rid of any ideas about Sneaking inside. Furthermore, the network channels dark energy directly to him. He can project devastating attacks from afar without ever leaving his base, or he can use the cables to siphon the energy of his enemies directly into the ground. And unfortunately..." Piximon grimaced, his bat wings drooping in frustration. "...that is all I know about it so far."
The tiny Ultimate looked genuinely angry at his own lack of information. Before the silence could stretch, Ikaris stepped forward, his pristine boots making absolutely no sound on the wooden floor.
"No need to worry, old friend. I will take it from here," Ikaris said smoothly. "Piximon is correct about the surveillance and the energy siphoning. But the most dangerous ability of the Dark Network is its De-digivolution capability."
The air in the room seemed to freeze. I felt Gomamon shift nervously against my leg. Tentomon buzzed anxiously in the air.
"De-digivolution?" I echoed, the word feeling heavy on my tongue.
"Yes," Ikaris nodded grimly. "The network constantly broadcasts dark frequencies designed to disrupt the connection between you, the DigiDestined, and your Digivices. If you are caught in its active radius, it forces your partner Digimon to de-digivolve from their Champion level. This means that Gomamon, Biyomon, and Palmon will be completely unable to fight whatsoever. They will be locked in their Rookie forms."
"What?" Wally gasped, looking down at his hands in horror. "But Biyomon is my main aerial support! If she can't even go Champion..."
"It gets worse," Ikaris continued, cutting off Wally's panic with cold, hard facts. "Because Agumon, Patamon, Gabumon, and Tentomon are connected to the activated physical Crests you now possess, they can still push through the interference to reach their Ultimate forms. However, the sheer strain of fighting the Dark Network's frequency means the time they can stay in that form has been cut in half. You must not engage in prolonged fights. If your Ultimate form times out in the middle of a battle, you will be utterly defenseless."
I did the math in my head, feeling a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. Our combat windows had just been slashed by fifty percent. And half our team would be completely stripped of their firepower.
"Where is the core?" Kaldur demanded, stepping toward the immortal messenger. "If this network is powered by a central hub, we need to know exactly where it is so we can disable it before engaging Etemon."
Ikaris shook his head slowly, his expression hardening into an impenetrable mask. "I cannot tell you where the core is. Telling you about the De-digivolution function in advance is already seriously pushing the non-interference rule as that was a trap for you. If I dare try to tell you where the core is, I will no doubt be summoned, if not punished on the spot by the Creator. My domain is guidance, not direct intervention. Otherwise it could be seen as picking sides in this war when I'm technically supposed to be neutral."
He let that sink in, watching the frustration boil behind our eyes. Then, very subtly, the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
"But I can say this," Ikaris murmured, lowering his voice as if sharing a grand secret. "The Dark Network's central core was originally created and is still maintained by a captured Datamon. Etemon keeps him imprisoned, forcing him to run the system under extreme duress. So, if you happen to find him, I am sure he will be more than willing to help you destroy the network, thus making Etemon easy pickings."
Find Datamon. Destroy the core. Kill Etemon. It was a terrifyingly slim thread of hope, but it was a plan.
"That is everything you need to know before facing Etemon," Ikaris declared, his voice returning to its normal, booming resonance. "Now, take the rest of the day off. Explore the island without worrying about being attacked. The immediate region is completely clear of dark agents. Talk to some of the Digimon you are risking your lives for. Connect with the world. Just... no heroics. You can do your planning tomorrow on the way to the Server Continent."
Ikaris turned toward the door, preparing to leave.
"Ikaris," I called out. He paused, looking back over his shoulder. "Thank you. Seriously. The intel on the De-digivolution... that might be the only thing that keeps us alive out there."
Ikaris offered a faint, almost melancholic smile. He waved a dismissive hand. "Survive the desert, young Robin. That will be thanks enough."
With a shimmer of golden light, the immortal vanished from the room, leaving us alone with our thoughts, our exhausted Digimon, and the terrifying reality of what awaited us tomorrow.
***
I leaned back against the polished white marble of my throne, a wide, genuine smile spreading across my face. I watched the holographic projection of the village room dissolve as I severed the direct audio-visual link to File Island.
"Honestly, somebody give that man an Oscar, I really have to think of something good to reward him with once this is over." I chuckled, my voice echoing through the vast, empty expanse of my Divine Space.
Ikaris had played his role absolutely flawlessly. The dramatic pause, the feigned reluctance, the perfect delivery of the *punished by the Creator* line—it was a masterclass in dungeon guiding. By feeding them the exact mechanics of the Dark Network and dropping the breadcrumb about Datamon, I had ensured the Young Justice team wouldn't just blindly march into Etemon's territory and immediately get wiped out. But I also hadn't handed them a free victory. They still had to navigate a hostile desert, find an invisible underground pyramid, and rescue a captive who was notoriously untrustworthy.
I shifted in my seat, the golden armor clinking softly against the armrests. My divine form was radiating with excess energy today, a direct result of the immense power generated by the heroes' emotional and physical breakthroughs during the Devimon fight. Apparently as they get stronger while conquering the Dungeon I get stronger as well nice to know at least I don't have to rely solely on the system even if it's a lot slower. I summoned the master control interface for the Digital World, pulling up the environmental parameters for Etemon's sector on the Server Continent.
A translucent blue screen materialized, displaying a complex wireframe map of the desert networks. I tapped a few floating runes, adjusting the De-digivolution frequency just slightly. I needed it to be oppressive enough to completely sideline Gomamon, Palmon, and Biyomon just as Ikaris warned, but I didn't want it to cause agonizing physical pain to the human divers. It was meant to be a tactical handicap, not a torture device. I wanted Dick's analytical brain working in overdrive, trying to solve the puzzle of Datamon's prison while half his team's firepower was locked out.
Next, I checked on Datamon himself. Deep beneath a holographic sand dune, the traitorous machine Digimon was sitting in his glass containment sphere, endlessly typing away at the Dark Network's main console. I reviewed his AI behavioral subroutines. Datamon was programmed to be brilliant, deeply resentful of Etemon, and incredibly treacherous. I tweaked his dialogue trees to ensure he would readily offer his help to the heroes if they breached his chamber, but left his underlying code intact. He would still try to betray them to achieve his own revenge. It was the perfect wildcard to throw at my little dungeon divers.
With the Server Continent preparations locked in, I swiped the Digital World interface away and pulled up the real-world monitoring screens wanting to see how things are doing over there even if it hasn't even been a full ten minutes since the team went in from their perspective you have to love time dilation.
The feed from Happy Harbor was exactly what I expected and not at the same time, though it still made my eyes narrow in annoyance. I really shouldn't be surprised that even with so little time passing Batman hadn't just maintained a perimeter around the towering crystalline archway of my dungeon gate; he had fortified it. The Justice League had moved in heavy, lead-lined portable containment walls, completely enclosing the clearing. I could see the Flash moving in a blur, setting up high-tech sensory equipment, while Green Lantern Hal Jordan hovered above, his ring scanning the divine crystal with useless, frustrated intensity.
You have to give credit where credit is do that they managed to do all this in such a short period of time is impressive. But they were obviously terrified. And they had every right to be. A completely indestructible, un-analyzable portal had swallowed four of their proteges, and they were entirely powerless to break through the divine coding I had layered over the entrance as the System itself powered and managed it.
But I really am lucky anyone else and Batman's obsessive scrutiny would have become a logistical problem. If he decided to permanently quarantine this zone, or worse, if he somehow used Justice League magic users like Doctor Fate to try and suppress the dimensional bleed, it could have severely throttle my ability to generate divine energy. But the System assured me if I need to I can move the Gate anytime I want and that forget Fate even if the Almighty Creator God of the DC Universe tried he'd fail with no chance of forcing the Gate open or closed period so I wasn't worried about either scenario. So I didn't need to fear the Justice League turning my first creation into a permanent black site.
But it did bring me right back to the glaring notification hovering in the corner of my vision.
*Task Seven: Create at least three themed dungeons in separate locations.*
I rubbed my chin, tracing the tribal tattoos that glowed faintly on my neck. After seeing all this and really thinking about it the chance of Batman and the League saying no to the Dungeon offer was really high so I'll make backup Dungeons to use if they turn down the offer, but I couldn't just drop these new dungeons quietly. I needed to deploy them simultaneously across major global hotspots. I needed to force the League to divide their resources, to realize that this wasn't an isolated incident in Happy Harbor anymore, but a worldwide paradigm shift.
I opened the advanced dungeon creation suite, the interface far more robust now thanks to my increased divine energy capacity. My previous idea of letting the Young Justice and Justice League team choose the themes as a reward was still a solid psychological manipulation tactic, but I couldn't wait until they finished the Digital World to make the backup Dungeons from scratch a blueprint was necessary. The difference in time wasn't big enough yet the time in the mortal realm was moving too fast I need to get stronger so I can raise the time dilation to something that matched the Digital World's with one day equivalent to decades. I needed to draft the blueprints right now so that the moment they emerged victorious, I could instantly start building then deploy the new Dungeons at the fastest speed possible.
I selected three geographic anchor points on the holographic globe of Earth: Gotham City, Metropolis, and Star City.
For Gotham, I started laying down the framework for an *Endurance and Stealth* labyrinth. Something dark, claustrophobic, and relentlessly punishing. A sprawling, gothic undercity filled with shadow-beasts and silent alarms that triggered absolute sensory deprivation if tripped. Let the Bat-family and anyone else who wants to see how they handle a world where their gadgets simply melt into ash and only raw instinct survives.
For Metropolis, I chose an *Elemental Siege* arena. A towering spire composed of shifting biomes—magma chambers, glacial floors, and hurricane-force wind tunnels. Superman and his allies relied entirely on their overwhelming physical supremacy. I wanted to see how they adapted when the very environment drained their solar reserves and demanded intricate magical or elemental counters they simply didn't possess.
For Star City, I outlined a *Tactical Puzzle* domain. A massive, clockwork fortress where every combat encounter required solving complex mathematical and spatial logic puzzles while under heavy enemy fire. Pure marksmanship wouldn't be enough; they would have to think three moves ahead or be crushed by the shifting gears of the dungeon itself.
"System," I said out loud, the blue screens reflecting in my glowing green eyes. "Save these three environmental frameworks as pending drafts. Lock them to the highest initial difficulty scaling permitted by current divine energy reserves. We'll finalize the boss parameters once our young heroes finish their business with the Dark Masters and Apocalymon."
*Command recognized. Drafts saved. Task Seven progress updated,* the System chimed, its formal text flashing briefly across the main interface.
I smiled, feeling a surge of absolute control. The board was set. The Justice League was scrambling in the dark, my chosen heroes were resting up for the most grueling phase of their journey yet, and the entire architecture of the DC Universe was very slowly but surely bending to my will.
Tomorrow, the Young Justice team would board Whalemon and cross the digital sea. They would face Etemon's traps, the suffocating pressure of the Dark Network, and the treacherous depths of the Server Continent. And I would be watching every single second of it from my throne, the architect of their suffering and their ultimate salvation.
I closed my eyes, letting the ambient warmth of the artificial starlight wash over my form. Let them rest today. The true nightmare was only just beginning.