Naruto narrowed his eyes, the winds around him still howling with the lingering roar of the spearstorm he'd unleashed. The air stank of scorched silk and ozone, and across the ravaged skyline, the Spider Queen rose with an elegance that mocked the destruction around her. Her many legs clattered with a sickening rhythm as she perched upon the crumbled husk of the skyscraper—unbothered, undamaged, and now unmistakably aware that she was not alone.
Naruto could sense it—deep in his gut, the way only seasoned warriors knew. Arachne wasn't just strong. She was older, wiser, more insidious than Dark Etemon had been. And darker.
He turned his head slightly, golden hair dancing in the wind, and glanced at the small figure clutching the edge of the rooftop behind him.
"Takeru," he said quietly, yet the child heard him as though the world had hushed to listen.
Takeru looked up. His blue eyes were filled with pain—not from wounds or weariness, but something deeper. The sting of betrayal. The memory of her voice, so kind and curious, twisted now in hindsight to something grotesque. The lies, the illusion, the trap.
Naruto crouched to his level and placed a firm, warm hand on his shoulder. "Go with my clone. Support us from a distance. You still have energy, right?"
Takeru nodded hesitantly, though his hands trembled. "I… I think so."
"Good," Naruto said. "That'll be enough. Help boost MagnaAngemon. Help boost me. We'll bring her down together."
Takeru's throat tightened. He looked back at the battlefield—the broken bones of the city beneath their feet, the monstrous queen spinning her tower of threads anew—and then at Michael, floating beside them with his blade of light drawn, wings spread like divine banners ready for war.
Despite everything, his hopeful heart did not shatter. It strained, it cracked—but it held.
"Promise me," Takeru whispered, voice thin with the weight of pain. "Promise we won't let anyone else down."
Naruto gave a half-smile, one that did not reach his eyes, which were already blazing with purpose. "We won't. Not today."
The clone took Takeru into his arms and vanished in a flash of golden chakra, leaping toward a safer ledge. The real Naruto turned again, just in time to see the faint shimmer of a barrier bloom around the boy—a sphere of golden light, radiating the sacred pulse of Takeru's spirit.
Within it, the child pressed his hands together, and a surge of holy power burst forward.
It was subtle, but the change was instant.
MagnaAngemon's wings snapped sharper. His blade gleamed brighter. His body, which had been faltering from fatigue, lifted higher in the air, steadier than before.
Naruto felt it too. A lightness in his limbs. A clarity in his breath. His storm chakra flared brighter, faster, the winds dancing around his form like living things drawn to his will.
Takeru's power had woven itself into theirs like a hymn whispered between warriors.
Above them, Arachne let out a low, unsettling chuckle.
"Oh? So the little morsel still sings?" Her voice coiled around them like silk, clinging and cold. "How sweet. How very sweet. I'll enjoy peeling your hope away when the time comes."
Naruto rolled his shoulders, his fingers crackling with building lightning.
"Talk all you want," he said, his voice low. "Let's see how you do when dessert bites back."
------------------
The skyline glowed like molten gold as Naruto rose, his body cloaked in the fierce, otherworldly shimmer of the Six Tails transformation. Instead of succumbing to the monstrous instincts that often came with such power, he kept his mind clear, his control absolute. The chakra roared around him like a living tempest, licking at the edges of the broken skyscraper, yet he stood still, regal and composed—like a storm given form.
But that wasn't all.
With a calm gesture, he raised his hand—and the cloak rippled outward, splitting like ribbons of fire and latching onto his comrades.
Piximon gasped softly as the blazing red chakra wrapped around his small, ancient form, his wings beating with newfound vigor. Raikomaru's eyes widened in astonishment as power coursed through him, his feline features sharpening, muscles surging. The once-weaker warrior now stood at the cusp of Ultimate, his aura crackling with energy and pride.
But it was when the cloak enveloped MagnaAngemon that the air truly shifted.
Michael's already-radiant form ignited with celestial brilliance. The red chakra merged with his own holy light, forming a divine fusion of might and purity. If before he was a beacon in the dark, now he was a burning star.
"Impressive," Piximon muttered, eyes wide beneath his helmet. "This is more than a simple boost…"
"It's a war blessing," Raikomaru growled, tail flicking with anticipation. "We could actually win this."
Yet across the clearing, Arachne hadn't moved an inch.
She remained poised, regal in the most unsettling way. One leg lazily preened her hair as her humanoid hands adjusted the golden silk spun into her nails. Her expression—boredom, with a hint of amusement.
When she finally looked up, it was as if the temperature dropped.
"Are you done?" she asked softly, her voice almost maternal, as if scolding a child for playing dress-up.
Then, she looked at them.
Her eyes, glowing red and impossibly deep, flared like twin pits into an ancient abyss. And suddenly, the world shuddered.
Naruto froze mid-step. Raikomaru's growl died in his throat. Piximon's wings faltered. Even the air felt heavy, like a thousand invisible threads were coiling around their thoughts, tightening, suffocating. Their minds screamed with visions—not of her, but of what she once was. A being that feasted on universes. A shadow that slipped through the cracks left behind by immortals.
It was fear. Pure, instinctual, bone-deep terror.
Except for one.
MagnaAngemon, cloaked in both holy light and storm chakra, remained unmoved. With a shout of command, he raised his blade to the sky—and with a dazzling flash, twelve radiant swords erupted in a circle around him.
They shot forward like comets, each one a blazing spear of judgment.
Arachne tilted her head, amused. "How rude," she said sweetly—and then her spider half moved.
The abdomen split, revealing a jagged, drooling mouth filled with writhing fangs—and from it, she breathed.
A mist, black and green and sickly sweet, rolled across the battlefield like a living disease. The smell was thick with decay and venom, turning the air into a choking mire. Her legs clicked as she danced backward, launching poison spikes from her limbs with terrifying precision.
Clink! Clang! Two of the Holy Swords detonated mid-air, stopped by the poison projectiles. A third sword fizzled in the mist before reaching her.
Still, the others pressed on, forcing her to leap skyward.
MagnaAngemon flew up to meet her, slashing down with his holy blade. "You will not harm Takeru again!"
-------------------
From the heavens, MagnaAngemon descended like a divine hammer, his blade—Excalibur—shining with a furious white light, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. Each beat echoed across the battlefield, louder than the rumbling storm clouds above. The sheer intensity of the weapon made the very fabric of the world hum in protest, as if reality itself balked at its purity.
Below, Naruto inhaled deeply, the crimson tails around him flaring outward like wildfire caught in a windstorm. Then he roared—not with his voice, but his soul.
The Vacuum Wave erupted from his mouth, tearing through the mist like a divine gale, sweeping away poison, shattered concrete, and entire city blocks like dust from a table. The battlefield was cleared in an instant, revealing the massive weave of spider silk above—a web not just built, but grown like a cancer over the city.
Opposite him, Piximon shimmered into view, his wings moving in tight, calculated spirals. He raised his staff, and with a cry in the Old Tongue, froze the very air.
Ice surged out in blue and silver waves, covering buildings, webs, and ground in a thick crust. The battlefield was no longer just a ruin—it was a frozen graveyard.
And then came Raikomaru.
He leapt atop a collapsed skyscraper, his mane electrified by the chakra cloak, and released a Lion's Roar so deep and primal that even the winds paused to listen. The sound reverberated across dimensions—a roar meant to stop the heartbeat of monsters.
Arachne flinched.
Only for a second.
But a second was all it took to show that she was not invincible.
She raised a hand delicately, as if plucking a rose petal from the void, and pulled forth a black blade—a sword not forged, but whispered into existence. Space itself recoiled from the weapon, edges curling inwards like burnt parchment.
MagnaAngemon and Arachne collided mid-air.
The Excalibur met the Dark Fang.
The resulting clash unleashed a storm of energy so ferocious, so unrelenting, that the city beneath them simply… vanished. Holy light collided with corrupted darkness, and for a moment, the entire world went white.
But when the light faded, Arachne remained. Unmoved. Unbothered.
Her feet never touched the ground.
She hovered in place, suspended just above her shimmering webs, as if gravity itself had no authority over her. The ice beneath her had cracked, but she showed no sign of instability. Not even the Lion's Roar had staggered her fully.
And then, the threads moved.
The webs snaked out in an instant, a blur of silver and shadow, and ensnared MagnaAngemon's arms and legs mid-flight. They twisted like vines made of silk and spite, pulling at him with a force strong enough to tear angels from the sky.
But Piximon was faster.
In a crackle of light, he vanished from behind an icy column—only to reappear just behind Magna. With a flash of his staff and a spark of teleportation magic, they were both gone, blinking out like a pair of fireflies.
Arachne's eyes widened for a moment—only a moment—before narrowing once again.
Then, from below, came a hiss in the wind.
Naruto's Rasenshuriken spun toward her like a fallen star, its edges shredding the air, the sheer weight of it bending the frozen battlefield. She clicked her tongue, more annoyed than alarmed.
With a sharp whistle, dozens of Dokugamon—her venomous minions—leapt into its path like suicide soldiers, their bodies reduced to nothing as the attack carved through them. At the same time, she wove a silken dome before her with terrifying elegance, layer after layer of webbing catching fire, unraveling, and regenerating as the Rasenshuriken struck.
The explosion lit the sky, painting it in orange and blue.
But when the smoke cleared, Arachne still floated.
Singed, yes. Eyes narrowed in slight displeasure—but smiling.
"A clever trick," she cooed, dusting ash from her shoulder. "But flailing around like insects won't change the outcome. You're already caught."
----------------
The city was a labyrinth of destruction and webs. Every time the wind picked up, it sent a chill through the heroes, as if the very air was laced with Arachne's poison. The giant skyscrapers had crumbled to rubble, and yet, amidst the ruin, the webs remained—an ever-present threat, more dangerous than any mere trap. Her threads shimmered in the dim light, a creeping reminder of her dominance. Every time Naruto and his allies tried to make a move, a new net unfurled from above, wrapping itself around them, tightening its grip with unrelenting precision.
Piximon's voice cut through the tense silence. "We cannot overpower her," he said grimly, his tiny face set in a serious expression as he hovered just beside Naruto. His wings beat with a quick, frantic rhythm. "She's too strong. Too durable. We'll need to combine everything we have. Focus it all on the spear. That's the only way to break her."
MagnaAngemon, his holy sword gripped tightly in one hand, frowned. His eyes flicked to the battle unfolding, noting how Arachne dodged their attacks with ease, her spider form gliding gracefully through the air as if the laws of physics had no hold on her. "And how do you propose we do that?" he asked, his voice edged with frustration. "She can just dodge, or have her slaves take her place. We'll never hit her that way."
Arachne's lips curled into a smug smile as she floated above them, her eyes glowing with malice. She twirled a strand of web between her fingers lazily, as if her enemies were nothing more than a passing nuisance. "How quaint," she murmured to herself, watching as the team struggled. "They think they stand a chance."
Naruto, weaving between strands of web that shot out from her like lightning, shot MagnaAngemon a look. His blue eyes were intense, burning with determination. "We need someone to hold her down for a moment," he said, his voice low but firm. "Someone who can take the hit with her."
Piximon blinked in realization and nodded. "I could do it," he suggested. "I can teleport in and out quickly—hold her for just enough time."
But Naruto's face darkened, his expression hardening like stone. "No," he said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I won't risk another Jiraiya situation." His gaze softened for a moment, remembering his fallen mentor, but the pain was still fresh. "I won't let that happen again. My clones can hold her down. We'll make sure she doesn't escape."
There was a tense pause as they darted and dodged around Arachne's deadly webs and the poison blasts she sent out in every direction. Naruto's clones appeared in bursts of smoke, each one taking a different angle, each one moving with precision and speed to dodge the webs and keep her distracted. Their bodies flickered in and out of existence as they narrowly avoided the sharp, glinting threads that shot toward them like harpoons.
Arachne watched them with amusement, her eyes narrowed as she observed the heroes' frantic movements. The webs stretched farther across the city with each passing second, creeping along the sky and down into the streets, sealing off any chance of escape. And then, with a simple thought, her dark magic flared to life.
"You think you can run away?" she purred, her voice like velvet wrapped around a blade. Her webbing pulsed with dark energy, and the air itself seemed to grow thicker, heavier. The force of her magic spread out in waves, suffocating the space around them, blocking their every attempt to teleport or flee.
Naruto's clones had to leap back, narrowly avoiding the tightening webbing. His eyes darted to the sky where the threads were beginning to constrict, tightening like the grip of a vice.
Arachne's voice was almost lost beneath the roars of battle as she considered the outcome of this struggle. "What will I gain from devouring the Warrior of Hope?" she mused, her sharp eyes scanning MagnaAngemon as he cut through another web with his glowing sword. "He's so close to Seraphimon, so close to the pinnacle of light... Perhaps the energy I gain from consuming him will bring me an even greater form. Yes, I can feel it—Seraphimon's power, so close I can taste it."
Her gaze flicked to Naruto, who was dodging yet another barrage of webs. "And this human-like digimon… so strange, so full of potential. What is it that makes him so different? The fox powers… they must be connected to Sakuyamon. Yes... the possibilities are endless."
MagnaAngemon, sensing Arachne's thoughts, tightened his grip on his sword. His gaze shifted to Naruto, who was already preparing for their next move. "She's toying with us," he said, his voice a low rumble of frustration. "But we've got one shot. We need to make it count."
Piximon was already preparing, his tiny body vibrating with energy. "All right," he said with determination, his voice firm. "Let's do this. I'll hold her down, you just focus on the spear attack."