A chill wind slithered across the rooftops of Tokyo, whispering through iron railings and rattling loose bits of metal. GulusGammamon stood at the edge of a concrete precipice, his bipedal form cast in jagged shadows under the sickly glow of neon lights. Below him, the city sprawled like a living organism—veins of headlights coursing through the streets, breathless crowds drifting in and out of shops, faces washed in the pale blue glow of their screens.

He inhaled deeply. The scent of exhaust fumes tangled with distant hints of fried food and rain-damp asphalt. It was sharp, acrid, laced with the desperation of urban life. The smell of survival, tainted with fear.

His claws, sharp and crimson, flexed slowly at his sides, scraping faint lines into the rooftop's concrete surface. GulusGammamon's three-fingered hands opened and closed with a calculated patience, each movement deliberate, controlled. His tail, long and tipped with a golden, harpoon-like edge, swayed gently behind him, cutting arcs through the fog-laden air as if testing its weight. The golden claws on his feet dug into the stone beneath him, securing his stance against the gusts that swept over the rooftop.

Beneath the magenta lines that traced his thin, ribbed torso, the red bipyramidal gem pulsed faintly, almost rhythmically, like the heartbeat of something long buried. His ceratopsian-like head tilted, white eyes with black sclera narrowing as he watched the figures below. They hurried along in tight clusters, unaware, insignificant. His grin spread slowly across his grey face, sharp teeth gleaming under the electric light bleeding from the billboards overhead.

"Heh... scrambling like insects," he murmured, voice dripping with contempt. His breath fogged in the cold air, twisting away in pale wisps before being stolen by the wind. "Eat or be eaten... and you don't even know which one you are."

The blue cape that hung from his shoulders fluttered violently in the wind, its metallic grey buckle clinking softly with each gust. He tilted his head back, letting the cold drizzle splash across his face, trickling over the magenta X that split his skull beneath the drill-like horn that jutted from his forehead.

GulusGammamon's upper horns, sharp and thunderbolt-shaped, crackled faintly with energy, responding to his subtle shifts in emotion—irritation, amusement, disdain. His small black nose glinted wetly in the faint light as he straightened up, scanning the skyline with casual arrogance.

"The strong devour the weak," he continued, louder this time, his voice carrying over the wind. His fingers flexed again, claws scraping stone. "And they don't even realize... they're feeding me."

His grin widened, and he let out a low, rumbling laugh that seemed to vibrate through the rooftop. It echoed briefly before being swallowed by the noise of the city, unheard and unheeded.

GulusGammamon's eyes flicked back to the streets below, his tail snapping once like the crack of a whip. "Yo..." he began, voice low and taunting. "Ready or not..."