"I can't do this alone."
The words left my mouth before I decided to speak them.
Silence answered.
I sat there. Minutes passed. Maybe longer. Shadows lengthened across the warehouse floor as the sun sank toward evening. Temperature dropping. The concrete cold against my legs.
Black Dranzer pulsed in my palm. Patient.
Then—
"No," a voice said from the darkness. "You can't."
I stood immediately. Launcher raised. Every muscle protesting.
A figure stepped into the light.
Tall. Lean. Pale skin that looked like it had never seen sun. Purple suit perfectly pressed despite the warehouse dust. Spiky black hair with a golden steak. Glasses catching the dying light, hiding his eyes.
And behind those glasses—nothing. No warmth. No malice. Just cold calculation wrapped in a smile.
I knew exactly who he was.
Doji. Dark Nebula's recruiter. The man who turned Ryuga into a weapon. The scientist who experimented on bladers like lab rats.
But I couldn't let him know I knew.
"Who are you?" I asked flatly.
"Someone who's been watching you." He walked closer. Footsteps too quiet for someone his size. "Since your tournament victory. Since you first revealed what you carry."
He gestured toward Black Dranzer.
"Watching," I repeated.
"The underground. Forty-seven consecutive victories. Forty-seven destroyed beyblades. One attempted murder." His smile widened slightly. "You've been very... productive."
My jaw tightened. "What do you want?"
"The same thing you want." He stopped ten feet away. "Control."
Silence pressed down.
"You're trying to cage a storm using willpower," he continued. Voice smooth. Almost kind. "Admirable. It works... briefly. But storms don't stay caged. They break free. And when they do—"
He glanced at the cracked concrete around us. The oil stains. The scorch marks from my training.
"—they destroy everything."
"I'm handling it," I said.
"Are you?" He tilted his head. "You just fought seven bladers. Exhausted yourself. Sat here alone admitting you can't do this by yourself. That sounds like someone losing control, not gaining it."
He's right. I hate that he's right.
"You don't lack strength," he said. "You lack infrastructure. Training alone builds discipline. It does not build monsters."
The word hung in the air.
Monsters.
That's what he thinks I need to become.
That's what he's offering to help me become.
"I don't need you," I said.
He smiled. "You don't even know who I am."
"Don't care either."
"My name is Doji." He adjusted his glasses. "I represent dark nebula an organization that cultivates potential. We provide resources. Structure. Training methodologies that actually work. Everything you're trying to achieve through sheer stubbornness, we can give you the tools to accomplish properly."
"And what does this organization get in return?"
"Power." No hesitation. No pretense. "A blader strong enough to challenge legends. We invest in potential. You have more potential than anyone we've encountered in years."
He walked closer. Each step deliberate.
"You're standing at a crossroads. One path—continue training alone, exhausting yourself, hoping discipline is enough. Eventually you'll break. Or the beyblade will consume you. Either way, you disappear. Just another name on a list of failures."
The lost bladers.
"The other path—accept help. Accept structure. Accept that some battles can't be won through solitary pride." He stopped five feet away. "We can teach you to master what you carry. Not suppress it. Not cage it. Master it."
He's offering exactly what I need wrapped in exactly what will destroy me.
"I don't need Dark Nebula," I said.
His smile didn't waver. "Then prove it."
"What?"
"Prove you don't need us." He reached into his jacket. Pulled out a beyblade. Dark pink maybe magenta. Silver edges catching light like teeth. "Beat me. If you win, I leave. You never see us again. If I win—"
He let the sentence hang.
"I join," I finished.
"You join."
Black Dranzer pulsed in anticipation.
It wants to fight.
I looked at Doji. At the calm certainty in his stance. At the beyblade that radiated controlled darkness.
I'm exhausted. Drained. I just fought seven people. I'm running on fumes.
But if I refuse, I admit weakness.
If I admit weakness, I've already lost.
"Fine," I said.
Doji's smile widened. "Excellent."
***
We moved to the center circle—faded paint on cracked concrete.
Doji stood opposite me. Perfectly still. Launcher raised with mechanical precision.
"Dark Wolf," he said quietly. Not boasting. Just stating fact. "I'll show you what proper training creates."
He was giving me information. Like he didn't need the advantage.
Or like he knows it won't matter.
I raised my launcher. Black Dranzer ready.
"Three," Doji said.
My heart hammered. Exhaustion pulled at every muscle.
"Two."
Black Dranzer pulsed. The cold stirred beneath the surface.
"One."
I can do this. I can win clean. I can prove I don't need anyone but myself.
"Let it rip."
***
Both beyblades launched.
Dark Wolf hit the outer ring immediately—high-speed orbit, purple blur against grey concrete.
Black Dranzer took center. Anchored.
Standard opening. He's observing.
I waited.
Dark Wolf circled. Once. Twice. Building speed with each rotation.
Then struck.
Fast. Precise. Hit Black Dranzer's fusion wheel at perfect angle.
CLANG.
My wrist jerked. I compensated.
Black Dranzer held position. Rotation dropped slightly.
Dark Wolf retreated. Resumed orbit.
Probing defenses.
Another strike. Different angle. Same precision.
Another impact. Another compensation. Another rotation loss.
Dark Wolf retreated again. Faster this time.
"Interesting," Doji observed. Clinical. Detached. "Your technique is solid. Textbook defense. But you're tired. Reaction time degraded by exhaustion. You're fighting at diminished capacity."
He was analyzing me. Out loud. Like I was a specimen.
Dark Wolf struck again. Harder.
Black Dranzer's rotation dropped noticeably.
I need to attack.
"Volcano Emission."
Black flames erupted—technique, not Dark Resonance. Controlled power. Clean execution.
Black Dranzer charged.
Dark Wolf dodged. Perfect timing. Minimal rotation loss.
My attack hit empty space.
Dark Wolf counterattacked. Hit Black Dranzer mid-recovery.
SMASH.
The impact sent both beyblades ricocheting. But Dark Wolf recovered faster. Repositioned. Attacked again before Black Dranzer stabilized.
CLANG.
Another hit. Clean. Powerful.
My rotation dropped further.
"You're using special moves to compensate for physical limitations," Doji said. "It's not working. Technique without stamina is just desperation."
Dark Wolf struck again. And again.
Each impact perfect. Each one draining my rotation while preserving his.
But—
There.
Dark Wolf's fusion wheel had a small scratch now. Visible damage from one of my counters.
I'm landing hits. He's not invincible.
Black Dranzer circled. I adjusted angle. Calculated trajectory.
Launched another attack.
This time—clean contact.
CRASH.
Dark Wolf scraped backward. Actually scraped. Lost rotation. Wobbled slightly before stabilizing.
Got him.
I pressed the advantage. Another attack. Black Dranzer moving faster now, finding rhythm.
Another hit. Dark Wolf took damage. More scratches on the fusion wheel.
I can win this. I can actually—
"Not bad," Doji said.
For a heartbeat—just a heartbeat—his smile shifted.
Not worry. Not surprise.
Interest.
Like a scientist watching an experiment produce unexpected results.
Then it was gone. Replaced by calm certainty.
"But not enough."
Dark Wolf's speed doubled.
The counterattack was brutal. Three hits in rapid succession. Each one perfectly angled. Each one devastating.
SMASH. CLANG. CRASH.
Black Dranzer was thrown backward. Hit the wall. Bounced. Scraped across concrete.
I stared.
"What—"
"Did you think I was trying?" Doji asked. Almost curious. "I was evaluating. Seeing what you could do without external assistance. The answer is: adequate. But only adequate."
Frustration flared. Hot. Acidic.
Adequate?
Dark Wolf circled. Casual. Almost lazy.
I am not ADEQUATE.
"You're angry," Doji observed. "Good. Anger is useful. But undisciplined anger is just noise."
He smiled wider.
"Show me what you're really hiding."
Dark Wolf attacked. Not strategic. Taunting.
Hit Black Dranzer. Retreated. Hit again. Retreated.
Like playing with prey.
Stop.
Another hit. Another retreat.
"Stop."
"Is this really all you have?" Doji asked. Voice dripping with false disappointment. "I expected more from the 'Bladebreaker.' Perhaps the rumors were exaggerated."
Something in my chest ignited.
"STOP."
Dark Wolf struck again—
Frustration exploded.
The cold didn't surge.
It DETONATED.
From everywhere. Every cell. Every atom.
The warehouse lights didn't bleed purple-grey—they DIED. Swallowed by darkness that erupted from Black Dranzer like a wound in reality.
My vision went black at the edges. Then red at the center.
Something wet and hot ran from my nose. Copper taste flooded my mouth.
My reflection in broken glass—eyes burning crimson. Pupils dilated so wide there was almost no grey left.
A dark purple aura—thick, oily, WRONG—radiated from my body. Not light. Anti-light. Shadow with substance.
Behind me—pressure so massive the air compressed.
The phoenix manifested.
Wings spreading darkness that devoured warehouse shadows. Beak curved like a scythe. Eyes burning the same crimson as mine.
And in that moment—
I was still Kai.
But I was no longer deciding.
Black Dranzer erupted in flames. Real flames. Dark fire that consumed light itself.
Doji's smile vanished.
His eyes widened behind his glasses—just slightly.
Not fear. Recognition.
That aura. That manifestation.
It's not the blader Dark Resonance affecting the beyblade.
The phoenix's form solidified. Wings spreading wider. The pressure intensified until breathing became difficult.
It's the beyblade affecting him.
His mind raced.
That power signature—similar to Lightning L-Drago.
If that's what I think it is—
A forbidden bey.
The implications crystallized instantly.
Ryuga is powerful. But volatile.
If complications arise—if L-Drago consumes him completely—
He looked at Kai. At the unstable phoenix. At raw power without refinement.
Another variable. One that shouldn't exist.
The thought was cold. Calculating. Necessary.
"There it is," Doji said quietly.
Not to Kai.To whoever was listening through whatever device he carried.
Report delivered. Evaluation complete.
"Now let's see what you can actually do."
His stance shifted. Tighter. More defensive.
This was no longer an evaluation.
This was real combat.
Black Dranzer charged.
No strategy. No technique. Just overwhelming force and hunger.
Dark Wolf barely dodged.
Doji's jaw tightened. "Darkness Howling Blazer."
Dark Wolf's aura manifested—crimson energy wreathing the beyblade. Above it, translucent and massive, a wolf's silhouette appeared. Eyes glowing. Fangs bared.
Full power. No holding back.
Black Dranzer charged again.
The collision lit up the warehouse.
Dark fire met crimson energy. The shockwave cracked windows. Dust cascaded from the ceiling.
The phoenix screeched—not sound, but pressure.
The wolf howled back—bass-frequency vibration.
Both avatars clashed. Ethereal bodies colliding with physical force.
Black Dranzer pressed forward. The phoenix's beak opening wide, trying to consume.
But the wolf didn't dissolve.
It bit back.
Crimson energy wrapped around black flames. Absorbing. Redirecting the force back into Dark Wolf's rotation.
Doji's technique—honed through years of fighting Dark Resonance users. Exploit the instability.
But even so—
Dark Wolf's fusion wheel cracked. A hairline fracture spreading from the contact point.
Doji's eyes narrowed. His breathing quickened.
Too much power. Too unstable.
If he had control—
Black Dranzer attacked again. Relentless.
Dark Wolf absorbed. Redirected. Countered.
But each collision cost. More cracks.
This is dangerous.
The wolf's jaws closed around black flames. Compressed. Contained.
The phoenix thrashed. Unstable. Crackling with energy it couldn't channel.
And there—the opening.
Too much power. No structure. No control.
"You are powerful," Doji said calmly. Voice cutting through the chaos.
"Raw. Overwhelming. Impressive."
Dark Wolf struck. Precise. Calculated.
"But exploitable."
The wolf solidified completely. Massive. Dense. A creature forged from compressed energy and absolute discipline.
It howled.
The sound was felt. A pressure wave that cracked concrete.
Dark Wolf charged. Covered in energy so dense it distorted space.
Kai—barely conscious inside the Resonance—felt the phoenix surge. Felt his body move without decision poured everything into the connection. Every ounce of remaining strength. Every fragment of will.
The flames reignited. Weaker but burning.
Black Dranzer charged one final time.
Everything committed.
Everything risked.
His throat opened.
No words. No technique name.
ROAR—.
Raw fury given voice.
Black Dranzer blazed. The phoenix reformed—incomplete, jagged, desperate.
Both beyblades met center-circle.
***
The collision was cataclysmic.
Light and darkness exploded outward. The shockwave shattered every remaining window. Concrete cracked in radiating lines. Dust and sparks filled the air.
Inside the maelstrom—
Pain.
Real pain.
Kai felt his chest compress. Felt ribs crack—not physically, but the sensation was identical.
He gasped. Fell to one knee.
The purple aura flickered.
The phoenix's form destabilized. Wings fragmenting. Eyes dimming.
Dark Wolf absorbed the impact. The technique held.
Crimson energy wrapped around black flames. Compressed. Suffocated.
The phoenix dissolved. Pulled apart like smoke. The creature's form shattered into wisps that evaporated.
Black Dranzer's flames died.
The beyblade wobbled. Rotation critical.
Dark Wolf repositioned. Struck.
One final hit.
SMASH.
Black Dranzer launched backward. Hit the wall.
Clattered to the floor.
An inch from Kai's face.
Close enough to see his reflection—eyes still faintly red, blood dripping from his nose.
Close enough to feel residual heat.
Close enough to understand:
When it breaks, I break with it.
The dust cleared.
Dark Wolf still spun. Center circle. Steady rotation.
The fusion wheel was cracked. But functional. Victorious.
Doji exhaled slowly.
Close. Too close.
His hand trembled slightly as he adjusted his glasses. A tell he rarely showed.
We need to secure him. Immediately.
Silence pressed down.
***
The purple aura faded. Kai's eyes returned to grey—crimson bleeding away slowly.
His hands shook.
He looked at Black Dranzer beside him.
What was that?
The memories were there—fragmented, blurred. Like watching someone else through fog.
He remembered rage. Hunger. The phoenix tearing through him.
But the specifics—
Were there any decisions?
Or was I just... carried?
The question sat heavy in his chest.
Uncertainty.
I lost control.
But I didn't know it would feel like that.
Like drowning. Like burning. Like being erased and rewritten.
Like power.
His chest still ached where Black Dranzer had taken damage.
And I want to do it again.
That thought was the most disturbing of all.
Doji walked over. Retrieved Dark Wolf. Examined the cracks.
Worth it. To see what we're actually dealing with.
Then walked to Black Dranzer. Picked it up.
"Don't—" Kai's voice came out hoarse.
He held it out. "This is yours.I have no interest in keeping it."
Kai took it. Warm metal. Still pulsing weakly.
Doji crouched. Eye level.
"You survived. Barely. But you survived."
He stood.
"That power is impressive. But look at you."
He gestured to Kai's kneeling form. The blood. The trembling hands.
"It's destroying you. Because you're using it wrong. Fighting it instead of mastering it."
He turned toward the exit.
"Dark Nebula can refine what you have. Strip away the weakness. Our training will shatter you completely. But what survives will be unbreakable."
He paused at the door.
"The choice is yours. But you've already made it, haven't you?"
Silence.
Then—
"Wait."
Doji stopped.
"I'll join."
Doji turned back. That small smile returning.
"And you're willing to pay the price?"
"Yes."
He studied me. Long moment. Calculating something behind those glasses.
"On one condition," I said.
His eyebrow raised. "Oh?"
"I bring someone with me."
Genuine curiosity flickered across his face. "Someone?"
I met his gaze. Held it.
Didn't explain. Didn't elaborate.
Doji's smile widened.
"Very well. If they survive our evaluation, they can stay." He adjusted his glasses one final time. "Tomorrow. Midnight. I'll send you the coordinates."
Then he walked out.
Footsteps fading into evening darkness.
Gone.
***
I sat on the concrete floor.
Alone.
Black Dranzer in my palm. Still warm. Still pulsing.
Weaker now. Exhausted like me.
But not satisfied.
Just... waiting.
The warehouse settled into evening quiet. Shadows deepening. Temperature dropping further.
My body ached. Everything hurt. Blood dried on my upper lip. Hands trembling.
But beneath that—something else.
I'd made my choice. Burned my bridges. Chosen the path I'd been walking toward since the moment I stepped into that first underground match.
I looked at Black Dranzer.
The beyblade pulsed. Quiet. Patient.
Waiting for the next stage.
I closed my fist around the metal.
END Of ARC 1
Author's Note :-
Hey everyone,
Thanks for sticking with me through these first eleven chapters. Arc 1 is officially wrapped.
So, quick heads-up about what's coming next:
This is NOT a corruption-to-redemption arc.
I know what's most of you are thinking, but that's not where we're going. Kai isn't going to hit rock bottom, have a friendship epiphany, and join Team Gingka by the end of Season 1.
Instead, Kai is the anti-hero of Season 1. He's going to fight both the antagonists (Dark Nebula/ Ryuga) and the protagonists (Gingka & co.). He's not evil, but he's not good either—he's pursuing his own goals through his own methods, and those methods put him on a collision course with everyone.
I'll be following canon events closely, but the anime never really specified how much time passes between tournaments, training arcs, etc.so things might feel tighter or more spread out here. Bear with me.
As always suggestions and feedback are welcome.
Thanks again for reading.