"I don't care how 'persuasive' you are, you aren't getting anything from me!" Exveemon snapped, struggling to rise, only to grunt in pain when he tried to stand: his ankles still felt dislodged.

"Sit down," Metaletemon said, pulling the champion digimon back to the floor. "Now get it through your thick head: you can't break out of here, you can't defeat me even if you weren't injured, so right now, all you can do is just lay down and allow me to ask you some questions."

"And you," Exveemon retorted (even though he obeyed the part about laying down), "can get it through your thick head that I won't tell you anything!"

"Oh, I think you won't find anything wrong in answering this: just why do you rebels want to defeat me?"

Exveemon was surprised; he actually didn't have a problem in answering that. However, he still wouldn't answer - just yet, anyway: "Well, its kind've obvious, isn't it?"

"If it was, I wouldn't be asking. Now tell me, why are you Rebels... well, rebelling against me?"

Exveemon decided that it'd be alright to fully answer the mega. "Because you're terrorizing the whole Digital World, that's why!"

Metaletemon's next question surprised the champion digimon even more:

"How am I terrorizing it? Am I casting a huge dark shadow over the world, distorting it and making it an unstable place to live in?"

"Literally, no. Figuratively, yes."

"Well then, please explain," Metaletemon asked, laying down beside Exveemon, propping his head on his elbow.

Exveemon stared at the other digimon for a moment before he (very carefully) rolled onto his side so he could better face Metaletemon.

"First of all," he explained, "there's your Black Network. It runs through the Digital World, controlling everything its connected to, ridding everyone of any indepence!" As he spoke, the blue dragon-digimon felt very taken aback by the turn of events: he never once thought he would ever be explaining to a tyrant ruler why his actions were bad and why others wanted to stop him.

"Some might call that security," Metaletemon replied to what Exveemon told him.

"Then there's your armies that go around patrolling the cities and villages, frightening and bullying everyone!"

"Some might call that order."

"And there are those ridiculous taxes everyone has to pay, or else they have to work in those prisons to pay off their debts!"

"Some might call that reasonable penalty."

"And there's the fact that the only thing we can listen to on the radio is your singing!"

"...And what's wrong with that?" Metaletemon demanded, looking both outraged and insulted.

"Well, no offense, buddy, but... not everybody cares for your singing."

The android digimon stared open-mouthed at Exveemon for a moment before pulling back his fist and sending it straight into Exveemon's belly, sending the champion digimon flying back into the wall.

"Oof!"Exveemon huddled up on the ground, sore all over, gasping for air. It took him a few moments to get his breath back. "Wha... what... I thought... I thought... you said... you weren't going to fight me?"

"That doesn't count," Metaletemon replied matter-of-factly as he sat up and brushed his hands. "I only hit you once, and that was out of rage. One punch doesn't count as a fight. And besides, you deserved it, insulting my singing like that."

"I...! I didn't insult your singing!"

"You did. You insinuated that its less than pleasing to a great number of digimon, correct? So therefore, you insulted my singing, and therefore needed to be socked."

"You didn't have to go and pound me so hard," Exveemon groaned, rubbing his bruised belly. His back was sore too from the impact of the wall. In fact, he was hurting all over: his left hand, his feet and ankles, and now his back and belly.

Metaletemon considered the dragon-digimon for a moment before commenting, "You really are pretty banged up, aren't you? Well, if I want you to stay alive, I suppose I'll have to get you patched up."

"You'll take me to an infirmary?" Exveemon asked, raising his head hopefully, already thinking of using this as a means of escape.

"Course not. I said I wouldn't let you leave here, did I?"

Suddenly four sets of shackles appeared on the floor in a circle around Exveemon, and they all attached themselves to his arms and legs.

"Augh!" the dragon-digimon cried; the retrains weren't so tender on his aching limbs.

Metaletemon turned towards one of the walls, where a small window appeared. "Get some of the Gazimon from the infirmary, I need the prisoner patched up. And be quick about it!" The window closed up.

Exveemon stared at where the opening was before saying, "What the...? I thought this place was made of Chrome Digizoid!"

"So it is," answered the mega.

"But... then how...?"

"Oh, you mean the window? Well, that's one of the skills I managed to create for myself. I didn't become king of the Digiworld for nothing!"

"So you've created powers for yourself where you can will Etemon into existence and you can shape and form Chrome Digizoid with your mind? How'd you do that?"

"Like I'm going to tell you that," chuckled Metaletemon. He turned back to the wall and, once the window appeared, looked out. "Oh good, here they come."

The window became a doorway, and a group of four or five Gaziman came in, all bearing bundles of herbs and bandages.

"Here we are, boss!" said the leader of the Gazimon, who was wearing sunglasses similar to Metaletemons'.

"Good. Now get to work."

The doorway closed behind the Gazimon, and they went to work on Exveemon, who was quite certain this was the most peculiar day he had ever had.