On the battlefield in the sky, Myotismon was in a sorry state. His clothes had been torn to shreds, exposing black skin and red blood vessels. Yet facing him were Growlmon, who had lost an arm and a leg, Kyubimon, who had seven of her nine tails torn off, and Wizardmon, who lay unconscious on the ground.
"I admit that you chosen Digimon are indeed powerful. Unfortunately, you haven't evolved to Ultimate yet. And you'll never have the chance," Myotismon said.
"Don't get cocky. Our companion isn't here yet. If Henry were here, we could destroy you right away." Takato kept his hands moving, but swiping cards could not heal Growlmon's wounds. Still, his words rang with such conviction that even Myotismon could not question them.
"Perhaps you're telling the truth. But you'll never see your companion again." At that moment, Myotismon had forgotten the orders sent from the depths of the darkness. Or perhaps he cared more about the humans and Digimon before him than the being deep within that darkness.
"Night Demon Assault!" A vast swarm of bats lunged at Growlmon.
"Cat Punch!" A dazzling streak of golden light hurtled in from the horizon, melting the scattered bats within its radiance. Then the punch slammed into Myotismon's chest and burst out through his back, leaving a fist-sized hole.
"Gatomon, you dare come back?" Myotismon's eyes turned bloodred. "Very well. I'll show you just how powerful a true Ultimate Digimon is." As he spoke, a mighty aura surged from his body. This aura represented Myotismon's origin, the aura of a Digimon that had undergone a transformation. Against a Digimon that had transformed once, overwhelming numbers would become utterly meaningless.
To Myotismon, all the wounds he had suffered earlier were merely superficial, or at most some internal injuries. With human