Morning — Dreamscape
I stood in a realm that shouldn't exist.
A vast twilight expanse stretched endlessly, caught between shadow and ember. The sky glowed with a smoky purple hue, flickering with sparks like dying stars. Ash drifted lazily through the air, carried by ghostly wind that whispered secrets in languages I couldn't understand.
The ground beneath my feet was jagged obsidian, veined with molten lava that cast surreal, flickering light—deep violet and smoldering red, like embers waiting to ignite.
Strange black flowers bloomed from cracks in the stone, their petals flickering softly like candle flames in the dusk. Pools of dark, mirror-like water reflected something above me, doubling the haunting beauty of the scene.
I looked up.
A massive silhouette circled overhead. Wings spread wide enough to eclipse the strange sky. Eyes burning cold crimson, staring down at me with ancient intelligence.
The phoenix.
Not Black Dranzer—the spirit itself, in its true form.
It descended slowly, wings creating currents that stirred ash into spirals. We stared at each other across the surreal landscape.
The phoenix opened its beak. A voice—not heard, but felt—reverberated through the dreamscape:
"Grow… or burn."
Then it screeched.
Everything erupted in black flames.
***
I woke gasping, sheets soaked with sweat.
Sunlight streamed through the window. 11:47 AM.
Never sleep this late.
I sat up slowly, body protesting. Yesterday's tournament had drained me more than I'd realized.
My hand caught my attention.
The burn from Volcano Emission—yesterday's searing pain—had faded to a dull pink mark. Skin tight but healing. Not healed, but well on the way.
Less than twenty-four hours.
I made my way to the bathroom. Splashed cold water on my face. Looked up at the mirror.
The blood vessels in my eyes had mostly cleared. Only faint red traces remained.
Yesterday, completely crimson. Now, almost normal.
I stared at my reflection, analytical mind engaging.
That's not normal human recovery time.
In Metal Saga, bladers exhibited capabilities that defied anything resembling normal human physiology. I'd always known it from watching the show, but living it was different. Gingka, for example, casually lifted boulders that should've required industrial machinery—solid masses weighing close to four thousand pounds—dragged or hoisted purely through physical exertion and some insane form of will-driven reinforcement. Kyoya could generate cyclones with wind speeds clocked above eighty miles per hour, powerful enough to create pressure shifts that knocked grown men backward even when they weren't the direct target. yet he stood firmly in place while entire crowds were blown backward. Ryuga walked through an explosion without losing momentum ,trained inside an active volcano, where temperatures hit levels that should've melted bone. No protective suit, no breathing apparatus. Just a beyblade, willpower, and a body that had long since stopped obeying normal biological limits.
And it wasn't just the top-tier legends.
Bladers in general trained in environments that should have killed normal people—icy mountains with temperatures dropping below lethal thresholds, deserts with no water sources, underground caverns where oxygen was inconsistent. Yet they survived. Thrived, even.
Which made one thing obvious:
Bladers weren't regular humans. At least, not anymore.
They weren't superpowered by magic or energy blasts.
They evolved through resonance.
I'd dismissed it as anime exaggeration when watching.
But this was real. My reality.
And I was experiencing it firsthand.
I flexed my hand, studying the fading burn. Thought about the past two weeks.
My stamina had increased dramatically. I could train for hours without the crushing fatigue I'd have felt in my previous life. My reflexes were sharper—I'd noticed it in the tournament, the way I could track and respond to beyblade movements that should have been too fast to follow consciously.
Even my strength had changed. The grocery bags yesterday felt lighter than they should have. Not dramatically—I wasn't suddenly superhuman—but noticeably different.
Theory: Deep resonance between blader and bit-beast enhances physical capabilities. The stronger the bond, the stronger the enhancement. Mutual amplification—blader strengthens spirit through will and training. Spirit strengthens blader through their connection.
It explained everything. The superhuman feats in the show. The rapid recovery times—characters who should have been hospitalized for weeks back on their feet in days. Injuries that would sideline normal humans for months healed in weeks.
And it wasn't just passive. The enhancement seemed active, proportional to the bond's strength.
Which means...
I looked at Black Dranzer on the nightstand.
This is just the beginning. If my bond with the phoenix deepens, if our resonance increases...
What will I become?
The thought was simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying.
More strength. More speed. More endurance.
But also more connection to the phoenix. More risk of losing myself.
Growth or consumption. That's the choice.
I picked up Black Dranzer. Felt the faint warmth—like something had woken with me.
The dream echoed: "Grow… or burn."
I set it down carefully.
One day of rest. Then back to finding that balance.
My stomach growled, interrupting the analysis.
***
I made something quick—rice, eggs, protein. Sat at the small table. Ate in silence.
Twelve days straight. Training. Battles. Tournament. No breaks.
The string metaphor came to mind. Pull too hard, and it breaks.
I'd pushed hard. Gained control. Proven myself.
But the dream was a reminder: Black Dranzer was testing me. Always testing.
And if I broke from exhaustion, the phoenix wouldn't wait.
One day. Earned it. Need it.
***
Afternoon — Touring Metal City
I spent the afternoon exploring Metal City properly—not rushing between training spots and tournaments, just... existing in this world.
The bookstore was cramped and cluttered, shelves crammed with everything from technical beyblade manuals to mythology texts. The owner's radio played low in the background, some talk show I didn't recognize. The smell of old paper and binding glue filled the space.
I found the mythology section."Legends of the Ancient Bladers" caught my eye.
Kai's memories stirred. He'd been interested in old legends. Prophecies.
I flipped through pages. Dragons. Phoenixes. Serpents. Lions. Four sacred beasts, old enough to predate modern beyblade history.
Some names I recognized from the anime. Others were new.
This world has deeper lore than the show covered.
I bought the book.
The food district was alive with midday energy—vendors calling out, the sizzle and steam of cooking, practiced movements as they served customers with efficient speed.
I stopped at a takoyaki stand. The smell was incredible.
When was the last time I actually enjoyed food?
I bought a container. The vendor—middle-aged woman with quick hands—smiled as she handed it over. "First time trying takoyaki?"
"No. But first time in this city."
"Welcome to Metal City, then. Best takoyaki you'll find anywhere."
She wasn't wrong. Octopus, sauce, green onion. Simple. Perfect.
If I'm stuck here, might as well enjoy it.
I walked through the shopping district, observing. Kids practicing launches in small stadiums. Bladers comparing parts outside shops. Street performers. Normal life.
Two weeks ago, this was just an anime on a screen.
Now it's real. I'm real. This is my life now.
The absurdity of it hit me again. Died to a sentient toaster. Woke up in someone else's body in an anime world.
Completely insane.
But also—
Kind of amazing.
***
By the time I reached the park, exhaustion had caught up with me. Not the crushing fatigue of overtraining—just the pleasant tiredness of a long walk.
I found a large tree offering shade. Grass beneath looked inviting.
I lay down, straw from the takoyaki container between my teeth, and stared up at leaves rustling in the breeze.
For the first time all day, my mind wasn't running a mile a minute.
No training plans.
No strategy breakdowns.
No bit-beast pressure humming under my skin.
Just… stillness.
The kind I didn't realize I'd been starving for.
A warm breeze drifted past, carrying the faint smell of summer grass and street food from the city behind me. Kids laughed somewhere in the distance. Metal wheels clattered as someone rode past on a skateboard.
For a moment, I let myself exist with no purpose attached.
Grow or burn…
The phoenix's words flickered in the back of my mind, but the warning felt distant here—drowned out by the gentle rustle of leaves.
I exhaled slowly.
Maybe I needed this more than I thought.
"Um... excuse me?"
I opened my eyes.
A kid—maybe twelve, nervous, clutching a beyblade launcher.
"You're Kai, right? From yesterday's tournament?"
I sat up slowly. "Yes."
He shifted his weight. Worked up courage. "Can I... can I battle you? Just once? Please?"
I studied him. Analyzed.
Nervous but determined. Outmatched but refuses to back down.
"What's your name?"
"Daichi."
"Show me what you've got, Daichi."
His eyes lit up. "Really?!"
"One match."
We moved to a small circular stadium—just an indent in the park ground, nothing official.
"Three! Two! One! Let it rip!"
Two beyblades launched.
Daichi's was a basic attack type, nothing special. But he'd put everything into the launch.
The form was flawed—stance too wide, release point late, inconsistent power. His beyblade wobbled immediately, trajectory unstable.
Black Dranzer hit the center. Waited.
Daichi's beyblade rushed forward desperately.
Contact.
Not Soul Drain. Didn't need it.
Just precise redirection. Black Dranzer shifted slightly. Daichi's beyblade lost all momentum, spiraling out.
Time: 2.1 seconds.
Daichi stared at his fallen beyblade. "That was... so fast."
I retrieved Black Dranzer. "Your stance is too wide. Feet shoulder-width apart, not wider. And your release point—you're pulling at the end of your wind-up. Launch at the apex. That's where you get maximum rotation and control."
He absorbed every word. "The apex..."
"Your launch form determines everything. Power means nothing without control. Work on consistency first. Speed comes after."
"Will you teach me more?"
"No. Figure it out yourself. That's how you actually get stronger."
His expression shifted—disappointment, then determination. "I will. I'll get strong enough to challenge you properly someday."
"Good luck."
He left, practically vibrating with energy.
I watched him go.
I'm becoming a role model. Weird.
Black Dranzer pulsed once against my hip. Not communication. Just... presence.
Like it found the interaction mildly interesting.
***
Dusk
I was walking back with groceries when the rain started.
Not a drizzle. A downpour.
I ducked into the warehouse district, seeking shelter under an overhang. Rain drummed against metal roofs, creating a rhythmic roar.
Then I heard it.
A faint, weak meow. Barely audible over the rain.
I looked down. Tucked beneath a wooden pallet was a kitten—soaked, shivering, mostly white with patches of mud obscuring its fur. Its eyes were barely open, body trembling.
I scowled.
I don't have time for this.
The meowing continued. Pathetic. Persistent.
I tried to ignore it. Focused on the rain. Waited for it to let up.
The sound didn't stop. If anything, it got weaker. More desperate.
...Damn it.
I knelt. Pulled a clean handkerchief from my pocket. Reached under the pallet carefully.
The kitten flinched but was too weak to run. Too cold to do anything but shiver.
I wrapped it loosely, lifted it. The weight was shocking—barely more than damp fur and fragile bone. It felt like it might break if I held too tight.
Just move it somewhere dry. That's it. Then leave.
But as I held it, something stirred—not my thought. Kai's memory.
The Abbey. Cold training halls. Winters that bit through clothes. Desperate for any scrap of warmth or comfort.
Being alone. Completely alone.
I looked down at the kitten. It had stopped shivering slightly, just from my body heat.
...I can't just leave it.
I walked deeper into the warehouse, found a dry corner, set the kitten down on clean newspaper from a stack nearby.
It immediately struggled toward me. Weak, uncoordinated movements. Pushed its tiny head against my boot. Purred—barely audible, but there.
Something unfamiliar flickered in my chest. Warm. Uncomfortable.
I let it sniff my finger. Its nose was cold. Wet.
The kitten tried to climb into my hand.
"Don't get used to this," I muttered.
It purred louder, nuzzling my palm.
I pulled out my phone. Considered calling someone.
Dismissed it.
"I'll handle this myself".
I picked up the kitten carefully. Tucked it inside my jacket, close to my chest where it was warmest.
It stopped shivering immediately. Settled against me. Small body relaxing completely, trusting the warmth.
I stood there, feeling the weight against my ribs. The faint vibration of purring.
The pet store was two blocks away. Rain could wait.
***
Inside, fluorescent lights were harsh after the grey storm outside. I grabbed supplies efficiently—kitten milk formula, shallow dish, soft food, small litter box.
The cashier—teenage girl with bright pink hair—stared at the kitten peeking out from my jacket.
"Oh my god, it's so tiny! Is it okay?"
"It will be."
"Did you find it in the rain?"
"Yes."
"That's so sweet! What's its name?"
I paused. Looked down at the kitten. It looked back with hazy blue eyes.
"...It doesn't have one."
"You should name it!"
"Maybe later."
I paid and left before she could continue the conversation.
By the time I got home, the rain had lightened. The kitten had fallen asleep against my chest, still purring faintly.
I set up the supplies. Warmed the milk formula. The kitten woke at the smell, suddenly energetic.
It drank desperately, milk getting everywhere—on its face, on my hands, on the floor.
After eating, it immediately tried to climb into my lap.
I let it. Just for a moment.
It curled into a ball against my leg, purring loudly now, stronger.
Cleaned, fed, safe.
This is ridiculous. I'm a blader training to fight legendary opponents. Not a...
The kitten yawned, showing tiny fangs. Stretched. Curled tighter.
"...Not a cat owner."
But I was. Apparently.
***
Night
I sat on the floor, back against the couch.
The kitten—now clean, dry, well-fed—had claimed a spot on a towel nest I'd made. But it kept getting up, walking over, trying to climb on me.
I picked it up. Set it back in the nest.
It immediately returned. Determinedly climbed onto my leg. Kneaded my thigh with tiny paws. Purred.
"You're stubborn."
It purred louder.
I gave up. Let it settle on my lap.
Black Dranzer sat on the coffee table nearby.
I stared at it. Thought about the past two weeks.
Previous life: Apartment. Job. Routine. No close friends. No family nearby. Just existing. Going through motions. Waiting for something that never came.
Then a toaster killed me. Objectively ridiculous.
And I woke up here. Different body. Different world. With a phoenix that wants to test me constantly.
Insane.
But—
I feel more alive now than I ever did before.
Purpose. Challenge. Meaning.
Even the danger felt right. Like this was what I was supposed to be doing.
Maybe ROB knew that. Maybe that's why he sent me here.
Or maybe it was random. Cosmic joke.
Either way—I wouldn't go back.
The kitten stretched. Repositioned. Pressed its head against my stomach. Purred so loudly I could feel the vibration.
I looked down at it. White fur, now clean and fluffy. Still tiny. Still fragile.
But trusting me completely.
My hand moved on its own—Kai's habit, maybe, or just instinct. I stroked its head gently.
The kitten's purr intensified. It pushed into my hand, demanding more attention.
Despite everything—the tournament, the training, the constant edge of danger—
This moment was peaceful.
The kitten yawned again. Curled tighter against me. Its purring gradually slowed as it drifted into sleep, small body warm and relaxed.
I felt something shift on my face. Realized, distantly, that I was smiling.
Not Kai's cold smirk. Not a calculated expression.
Just... a genuine smile. Small. Unconscious. Private.
Two weeks ago, I had nothing.
Now I have a phoenix, a cat, and a path forward.
Not much. But it's mine.
Black Dranzer pulsed from the table—once, quiet.
Not judgment. Not approval.
Just... presence.
Like it was learning about me too.
The kitten slept on. Rain continued outside, steady and peaceful.
Tomorrow, training would resume.
But tonight—tonight was rest.
And it was enough.
End of Chapter 6