The sound of two Beyblades launching echoed sharply in Metal Park. The clash didn't come immediately. Instead, Storm Acquario locked into the stadium's center, spinning with a tight, stable rotation. Its motion was clean, smooth, holding ground without a single shake.
Pegasus, in contrast, launched into a wide arc, circling fast but with sudden speed shifts. Gingka's style wasn't about immediate impact—it was about watching, testing, waiting for an opening.
Madoka's scanner beeped. "Acquario holding center perfectly. Pegasus is using a loose arc pattern. Gingka's not aiming for a direct hit yet."
Benkei stood with arms folded, eyes locked on the stadium. "He's waiting. He won't crash in head-on without reading her first."
Kenta, standing beside Madoka, was tense. "I thought Pegasus would go in straight away."
Aarav said nothing, his gaze following the shifts in Pegasus's path, watching how Gingka adjusted the angle with every lap.
Gingka's eyes narrowed, his focus absolute.
Hikaru remained composed, hands by her side, no tension in her posture. Acquario didn't flinch. She had no reason to react. Yet.
Pegasus, however, began edging closer with each pass. The movement wasn't aggressive—it was probing. Each spin around the stadium, Gingka slightly changed Pegasus's path, inching closer to Capricorn's controlled zone.
Madoka glanced at her scanner. "Pegasus is testing. Gingka's adjusting his spin line every lap, looking for a weak angle."
Benkei grunted. "Acquario too steady. He'll have to break her rhythm from the side."
Kenta nodded, eyes wide. "It's like he's poking the shield, looking for a soft spot."
The first contact wasn't explosive.
Pegasus skimmed past Acquario edge, tapping lightly—a feint.
Acquario absorbed the hit, its spin line wobbling by a fraction, but it recovered instantly.
Hikaru didn't move. She simply watched.
Gingka's grin widened. "You're not going to move, huh?"
Hikaru answered calmly. "I don't need to."
Pegasus veered back into its orbit, circling wider before cutting in again, this time with a sharper angle. Another light tap, another test. Acquario spin shuddered slightly, but once again, it steadied.
Madoka's eyes flicked to her data. "Pegasus is making small disruptions, but Capricorn's stabilizers are holding."
Aarav's gaze didn't leave the blades. His thought was clear: Hikaru's not overreacting. She's reading every hit.
Then, Gingka shifted.
Pegasus broke from its orbit, narrowing the gap, and aimed for a sharper side assault.
The stadium rang as Pegasus's frame struck Capricorn with a clean, slicing impact.
The clash wasn't flashy, but it sent a sharp vibration through the stadium floor.
Acquario spin line tilted—noticeable this time—but Hikaru's stance remained still. She didn't flinch.
Madoka's scanner flashed. "That was the first real hit. Acquario absorbed it, but the recoil was visible."
Benkei's lips curled. "She's solid. Most Bladers would've staggered."
Gingka adjusted his grip slightly, eyes narrowing further.
"She's tough," he muttered. "But let's see how many hits that center can take."
Acquario rotation remained tight, but Gingka wasn't slowing down.
Pegasus resumed its wide arc, but now, it didn't wait.
Every pass it made came with a light, calculated tap—never enough to force a clash, but enough to chip at Acquario hold.
Hikaru's eyes were sharp. She didn't react externally, but internally, she was reading every shift, calculating Gingka's next angle.
Gingka was testing her patience, forcing her to decide whether to stay centered or to strike back.
She chose to hold.
Madoka narrated quietly. "She's not taking the bait. She's making him work for a reaction."
Kenta's excitement rose. "But how long can she keep it up?"
Aarav's gaze flickered. He knew the answer wasn't in who attacked first—it was in who adjusted first.
Then, Gingka made his move.
Pegasus, mid-arc, veered sharply, cutting a direct line toward Acquario flank.
This wasn't a feint.
The impact was sharp.
The stadium rang as metal met metal, the sound clear and crisp. Acquario recoiled, shifting from its centered position slightly, but it didn't lose control.
Hikaru's lips pressed into a thin line. She adjusted nothing physically. Her blade spoke for her.
Pegasus, after the strike, didn't retreat to a wide arc. Gingka kept it close, circling tight, pressing the zone.
Madoka's scanner flashed numbers. "Acquario spin stability dropped by 5%. It's still stable, but Gingka's closing in fast."
Benkei's arms tensed. "She can't keep staying still. If she does, she'll get boxed in."
Kenta clenched his fists, eyes flicking between the two Bladers.
Aarav's expression remained unchanged.
Gingka's next strike came without warning.
Pegasus lunged again, this time at a steeper angle, aiming not for the blade, but to disrupt the base spin directly.
Acquario shuddered, its spin line bending dangerously for a split second.
But it didn't collapse.
Hikaru's eyes narrowed. She had felt the shake, but she knew her blade could absorb it.
"You're persistent," she said flatly.
Gingka grinned, not missing a beat. "So are you."
The stadium grew tense as Pegasus circled again, this time closer, faster.
Madoka's analysis kept feeding Kenta updates, but Kenta wasn't listening anymore. His focus was locked on the stadium.
Benkei's mutter broke through. "Someone's going to adjust now. Question is—who'll move first?"