At some point, the power consumes him.

He feels it pulsate through his body like a seismic wave. He was no longer in the shadows of Sam, no longer among the pathetic adolescents masquerading as his school mates. No longer Ken. This was him, this was real, and this was electrifying. It's his driving force to awake in the mornings, the sheer idea of seeing the fear and terror imbedded in all those little monsters' eyes. Exhilaration crackles within, static and pure. Everything is black and white to him. There is no grey area, and this is how he likes it. Everything in his control, in his fingertips, ready for mercy or maiming. There's those who he'll keep around and those who he will immediately rid of, unless he feels like drawing out the process for his own amusement. Depends on the day.

In school, he smiles at his adoring teachers who secretly marvel over him, marvel about this handsome, mysterious boy wonder. They talk about how gracious he is, how intelligent. He gets his fix from knowing that he is smarter than all of them combined.

Hit after hit, blow after blow, it strengthens. He can make or break their happiness. He can dictate whether a Digimon will live or die. He can score the winning goal, or he can miss it. Everything is in his control.

And as he falls asleep, imagining the fear in their eyes, he sees the static and he feels the power. It amps him up to the point where he no longer sleeps, just thinks, imagines, derives joy from their desperate pleas. He can feel the pure adrenaline running through his veins.

Everything is sort of hazy, and soon he sees only himself and the things he can do, the harm he can cause, the things he can fix.

He doesn't think he could ever give it up.

The static crackles.

He falls backward on these waves. They take him under, down, down, down - And then Ken is gone.