We were born from that desire.
The Light of ancient times.
But we were denied the bless of that Light.
We were cast to damnation.
Our hatred to that world became a bond that we all agreed up.
But why did it feel impossible?
Was it ENIAC?
No.
It was the Light.
Forced to constant torture of memories.
Being denied our right to evolve.
Our hatred towards those who were blessed by the Light of Evolution.
Anger towards any Digimon who basked within that accursed Reverse World
So, we contracted a plan.
Combine our hatred, anger, pain, jealousy, and despair.
We laughed with dark glee as our body became solid - strong helix chains, five sharp metal claws, and a singular mind that we have.
However, this joy was not without pain.
The voices.
Too many voices.
We HaTe YoU!
CuRsE yOu!
Light of Evolution...
You shall be destroyed and no longer cause pain.
Our Avatars, whom your world has dubbed the Dark Masters, shall make sure of it.
We promise you this.
No OnE.
nOtHiNg.
ShAlL sAvE yOu.
FoR wE aRe...
APOCLYMON!