The first thing Kai felt was the rough floor beneath him. Cold. Solid. Dusty.
His eyes opened slowly. Bright daylight leaked through gaps in a rusted tin roof. He lay on a cracked concrete surface, surrounded by scrap metal, pipes, and broken tools. It didn't smell like a hospital. It didn't look like a dream.
Kai sat up.
His arms were sore. His clothes were dirty.
The first thing Kai felt was the rough floor beneath him. Cold. Solid. Dusty.
His eyes opened slowly. Bright daylight leaked through gaps in a rusted tin roof. He lay on a cracked concrete surface, surrounded by scrap metal, pipes, and broken tools. It didn't smell like a hospital. It didn't look like a dream.
Kai sat up.
His arms were sore. His clothes were dirty. His body didn't feel injured, just stiff—like he'd been lying still for a long time. He rubbed his eyes and looked around.
Still his hands. Still his body. He hadn't aged a day.
"Fifteen," he said under his breath. "I'm still fifteen."
It was some kind of old shed or junkyard.
And right next to him was a small spinning top—dusty, plastic, and familiar.
He stared at it.
His fingers reached out without thinking. He picked it up and turned it over slowly in his hand. A cheap, damaged plastic Beyblade. It had a chipped edge, and the tip was scratched from spinning it on rough ground.
He knew this Beyblade.
He'd found it behind the foster shelter.
He never had real parents. Just a rotation of case workers and bunk beds. That top was the only thing he could call his own.
And he had died with it in his hand.
The memory came back clearly now.
It was raining.
He was walking home alone—again. Just another day. Another shortcut through a construction alley.
Then he heard the scream.
A little kid—pinned under fallen scaffolding. A metal pipe had collapsed, trapping him by the leg.
Kai didn't stop to think.
He ran in, grabbed the pipe, and lifted it just enough for the kid to crawl out.
Then he heard the crack.
He turned his head, and the last thing he saw was a heavy beam breaking loose above him.
There wasn't even time to feel scared.
Just silence.
But it hadn't stayed silent.
In the dark, something strange happened.
He remembered floating.
No body. No pain. Just… drifting in black space.
And the Beyblade? Still there. In his hand. The only thing that stayed.
Then came a voice—deep, calm, and close.
"You reached out when you had nothing to gain. You acted without power, yet your will didn't break."
He didn't respond.
"You are not reborn. You are not chosen by fate. You are simply claimed."
And then he had opened his eyes again—in this junkyard.
Alive.
Now, sitting in this strange world, Kai looked around.
Everything looked real.
The sunlight was warm. The air smelled of rust and dust. Outside the shed, he heard the city moving. Wheels on pavement. Faint shouting. Something spinning hard and fast.
He stood up slowly and walked out.
The sky above was blue, dotted with soft clouds. It looked like Earth. But the buildings were different. Cleaner. Newer. And everywhere he looked, people had Beyblades.
Kids were launching them in alleyways. Vendors sold launchers on the corners. Digital screens displayed tournament scores and rankings.
This wasn't his world.
But it was a world he recognized.
"I watched Beyblade on TV once," he muttered, adjusting the blade in his hand. "The old one. Tyson's era. I didn't even have a launcher back then… just spun it by hand on the floor."
He looked down at the Beyblade again.
Same one. Same scratches. Same chipped edge.
Only now… something about it felt different.
Kai kept walking.
No one noticed him. No one stopped him. That was good. He wasn't ready to explain anything anyway.
After wandering for hours, he ended up climbing a metal ladder onto the roof of a building that overlooked a large open stadium.
It was loud.
People filled the seats. Music played. A giant screen flashed player names and stats.
Kai crouched behind an old water tank to stay out of sight.
Below, a battle was finishing.
A boy with green hair stood on the platform, holding up a yellow Beyblade. The announcer's voice echoed:
"And the winner of the Metal City Tournament—Kenta Yumiya!"
The crowd cheered. Some people chanted his name. The boy grinned wide, proud and excited.
Kai watched silently.
He didn't feel angry. He didn't feel jealous.
But he didn't understand it either.
So much energy. So much happiness over a spinning top.
He looked down at the plastic Beyblade in his hand again.
Still scratched. Still quiet.
He sighed.
"I don't even have a launcher," he muttered.
Then the top pulsed.
It was faint, like a heartbeat.
Kai stared.
A soft green light shone beneath the plastic surface. The Beyblade started to warm in his palm.
He gripped it tighter, unsure.
Then the plastic began to change.
The center of the Beyblade split.
Metal formed across the sides, layering over the cracked parts. The tip rotated and reshaped into a more stable base. A faint hiss, like wind through a pipe, passed through the air.
The shape grew heavier.
The design on top changed—sharper, darker, more precise.
It looked like a coiled snake now.
And the voice returned.
"You held me when no one else would. Now I answer your hand."
"I didn't need a master. I needed you."
Kai didn't speak.
The transformation stopped.
The blade in his hand was no longer plastic.
It was full metal. Heavy. Balanced.
And one word appeared in his thoughts clearly:
Primordial Abyss Snake.
He said it out loud, testing it.
"Primordial… Abyss Snake."
It didn't feel like a fantasy.
It felt real.
Too real.
He stayed on that rooftop for a long time.
The crowd below eventually cleared. The stadium emptied out. Kids went home with their launchers and medals.
Kai didn't move.
He just kept turning the new Beyblade in his hand, feeling the weight, the way it almost breathed with every pulse.
Then something caught his eye.
Down near the alley, he saw a small group of kids surrounding another Blader—smaller, maybe 11 or 12.
One of the older boys grabbed the kid's BeyLauncher.
"Hand over your BeyPoints," he said.
"No! Please—I need them for next week's tournament—"
The group didn't care.
Another boy shoved him. One kicked the Beyblade off the ground and laughed.
Kai watched.
His jaw tightened.
He stood, hand gripping the Abyss Snake tightly in his pocket.
He could jump down.
He could stop it.
But… he didn't know how anything worked here yet.
He had no launcher.
No card.
No identity.
He didn't even know how to battle.
So he stayed put.
Watching.
Eventually, the bullies left. The younger kid sat alone for a while, picking up the pieces of his Beyblade before walking away.
Kai sighed.
This world wasn't perfect.
Just like his old one.
But at least here… Beyblades had meaning.
He looked at the one in his hand.
It still felt heavy.
Still waiting.
"I'm not ready yet," he said softly.
The Beyblade didn't respond.
But it didn't vanish either.
Kai climbed down the rooftop ladder as the sun began to set.
The streets were quieter now.
Some shops were closing. A few kids still battled in side alleys, their Beys sparking against each other.
Kai passed a cracked launcher on the ground. He glanced at it but kept walking.
No rush.
He didn't want to fight just to fight.
But one day, he would step into that stadium.
Not for glory.
Just to see if the blade in his hand could spin as hard as the one in his heart.