[That is...a good idea, actually. He can alter that room; he should be able to alter this weapon, right? When he thinks of the Ouryuken, he remembers it being big enough for Alphamon to wield, but that doesn't have to be the case.
Dorumon nods and closes his eyes. His gem is an orb set between his shoulder blades, black flecked with gold, and the light that emerges from it when he focuses is gold too, stretching into shape.
...And then, with a sound like a guitar string snapping but duller, the (admittedly a little smaller) Ouryuken breaks free of Dorumon and hurtles, spinning, into the air.
What goes up, must come down. Dorumon looks up frantically, squawks, and tugs Kongou along with him as he bolts.]
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Dorumon nods and closes his eyes. His gem is an orb set between his shoulder blades, black flecked with gold, and the light that emerges from it when he focuses is gold too, stretching into shape.
...And then, with a sound like a guitar string snapping but duller, the (admittedly a little smaller) Ouryuken breaks free of Dorumon and hurtles, spinning, into the air.
What goes up, must come down. Dorumon looks up frantically, squawks, and tugs Kongou along with him as he bolts.]