Chapter Text
Gingka slammed his fist against the last abandoned warehouse within the city limits and screamed. The Dark Nebula helicopter had long disappeared into the night sky, leaving him sweating and shaking as the adrenaline drained from his body. He hit the wall once more, but any fight left in him was gone– with one last defeated cry, he sank to the ground, legs trembling from the run, the heels of his hands pressed into his burning eyes.
He’d gotten careless, distracted, caught up in the joy of getting stronger– and in doing so, lost sight of his real goals. Making friends, finding rivals… foolishly, as the months went on, he started enjoying himself. Tonight, his battle with Kyoya was the toughest he’d had since he’d set out on his journey, and the most fun he’d had in months; in his elation he forgot, crucially, what he’d left home to do. It took only one instant for the illusion of his carefree existence to come crashing down around him.
Doji had found him. Doji had found him, and he wasn’t ready.
Every facet of his arrival was carefully orchestrated to unnerve Gingka, and the worst part was that it worked . It began with the drone of the helicopter blades, the dreadfully familiar low hum rising up from behind the roar of the spectators and raising the hairs on Gingka’s arms. The roar of wind blended with confused shouts of the crowd as the vehicle descended, deafening him as he watched in numb stillness.
Doji was patient. He waited the agonizingly long moments for the propeller to slow and halt, then disembarked at an insultingly casual pace. He chuckled to himself and clapped slowly, offering scornful applause. A solemn man clad in gray poured him a drink, and Doji raised the flute in a mocking toast to Gingka’s victory.
“That,” he said as the moonlight caught his glasses and concealed his eyes, “was wonderful dinner theater.”
He let the words hang in the air; Benkei was the first to break the silence.
“That’s him!” he shouted. “That’s the rat who trained Kyoya like an evil puppet!”
Gingka could hardly hear him– the world had fallen away until all he could hear was his own thundering pulse around him. He couldn’t breathe. The mountain was crashing down, and there was that menacing laugh underneath…
He didn’t register Pegasus in his hand, didn’t know when he raised his launcher. His own voice was cold, foreign in his ears, at odds with the hot rage coursing through his veins.
“I’ll never forgive you,” he’d spat, but his hands shook. “As long as I fucking live, I will never forgive you.”
Doji only laughed mildly, but his teeth gleamed like razors, blinding Gingka.
“Oh, I have no interest in battling you right now, Gingka Hagane.” He took his time enunciating each syllable, relishing the way Gingka flinched.
“You’re running away?”
“Hardly. In fact, I’ve prepared the Dark Nebula facilities with spectacular entertainment. It really is a shame, after all, that Kyoya Tategami wasn’t up to our standards.”
“The hell did you say?” Through the haze of anger, Kyoya’s voice materialized, indignant and furious. Doji smiled wider, amused, and raised his glass once more. The juice sloshed precariously close to the lip of the flute.
“However– thanks to you, we were able to gather valuable data. Consider this a token of my appreciation!”
In one swift motion, Doji hurled the flute to the ground, glass bursting an explosion of glittering shards and juice. The stadium lights caught the fragments and burned into Gingka’s eyes as Doji took Dark Wolf in hand, letting it charge after Kyoya’s weakened Leone like a rabid dog. Doji’s cackle blended with Kyoya’s screams as he was thrown back, Leone falling pitifully at his feet. The perpetual roar of falling rocks and the crystalline shattering of L Drago’s seal joined the din in Gingka’s head, paralyzing him. He couldn’t move to help Kyoya, couldn’t see anything but Doji climbing back through the helicopter doors, his coattails fluttering as the propeller picked up speed. He could only stand shaking, a dead autumn leaf in the wind, as the helicopter disappeared into the skyline, leaving only Doji’s taunting in its wake.
Gingka didn’t comfort Kyoya when Wolf clawed his bey to shreds. He didn’t think to tell Kenta or Madoka where he was going. In the blinding fluorescence of the stadium lights, Gingka could feel nothing but the fury burning away his skin as he chased the departing helicopter, the rushing wind doing nothing to soothe the flame.
All that running had led him here– shivering, shaking, and cold , now that his anger had fizzled out, alone in a city unbearably far from home.
His own carelessness astounded him. I’m sorry, Father. What was the purpose of it all– of friends, of rivalries? They were trivial things in the face of retrieving L Drago. He couldn’t believe he’d been wooed by something so transient as an adversary, or someone who looked up to him, or (his chest twinged with guilt even as he thought the words) someone who’d fed him when he was sick and cared for Pegasus as if it were her own.
Become stronger, Gingka. That was what he left his home to do. He couldn’t disappoint Hyoma, whom he’d left to guard the village with nothing but the memory of his own father nestled deep in his bey. Hyoma, who’d been just as angry and afraid as he was now, but loved Gingka enough to let him avenge Ryo for the both of them. Hyoma, who’d pulled him from his grief and pieced his spirit back together before sending him on his way. He’d given Gingka a chance he couldn’t afford to waste, and yet here he was: failing when it mattered.
Become stronger, Gingka. No. Not all of his time away had been in vain. He had gotten stronger. He was far more powerful than he’d been when he’d left Koma Village months ago, no matter how weak he felt right now. He refused to be deadweight, the boy who sat by idly while his father died.
Become stronger, Gingka. He knew Doji was nearby. He’d practically been handed the invitation to battle on a silver platter. All he had to do was find the headquarters.Kyoya had been there– Gingka would ask him where it was. A plan began to congeal out of the despairing noise, blurry but no longer formless. He’d go back to his friends, and tell them he was okay. They wouldn’t have to worry anymore.
Then he’d take back L Drago. He’d tear apart the Dark Nebula with his bare hands if he had to. As he pulled himself to his feet and made his way back into the city, Gingka swore on his father’s memory: with fire in his heart and Pegasus in his hand, he would not let Doji go unpunished again.
—
It was midday by the time Gingka arrived back at B-Pitt, and between the sleepless night and the exertion from the chase, he could feel the exhaustion catching up to him with every step. Still he pushed on, one leaden footfall after the other, thoughts looping like a broken record.
Find Kyoya. Get to the hideout. Retrieve L Drago. Find Kyoya. Get to the hideout. Retrieve L Drago. Retrieve L Drago. Retrieve L Drago. Make them pay…
“Gingka!”
The voice startled him into reality. Three figures stood in front of the doors of B-Pitt, waving in the sidewalk like a mirage as fatigue and dizziness washed over him.
“Kenta,” Gingka breathed. “Madoka… Benkei…” His friends rushed forward to catch him as he fell to his knees. He hardly registered the impact, pain blossoming and washing over him along with everyone’s worried voices.
“Are you okay?”
“Where have you been? How far did you go?”
His head was swimming, the thoughts blurring together in his brain. Find… L Drago… No, that wasn’t right. Find Kyoya. Get to the hideout… Gingka inhaled slowly before meeting their eyes.
“How is Kyoya?”
Madoka frowned. If she noticed his sidestepping, she didn’t comment on it. “He just woke up. He’s a little groggy, but–”
“I have to see him right away.” In an instant he’d forced himself upright, pushing past her and ignoring her surprised gasp and the soreness shooting through his calves. Gingka staggered once, but righted himself quickly. A wave of heat passed through him, despite the winter chill. “There’s something I need to ask him.”
“Wait a second!” Kenta protested, with Benkei indignantly following suit. It didn’t matter; time was of the essence, and Kyoya was the only one who really knew where the Dark Nebula’s base was located. He needed answers before his body gave out entirely and damn it, he needed to get away from them before it happened. He couldn’t handle their concern, their pity, couldn’t–
“You mentioned Doji’s name back there, didn’t you?” Benkei accused. Hearing the name out loud in the sobering light of day sent a jolt down Gingka’s spine, stopping him in his tracks. Realizing he’d hit his mark, Benkei continued triumphantly. “You want to ask Kyoya about him, don’t you? Well, how do you know his name in the first place?”
He shouldn’t have stopped. He should’ve kept walking. But Gingka had already given away the game, and all he could do now was glare over his shoulder.
“What is it between you two?” Benkei pressed on, with all the sensitivity of a bull charging towards its target, ignorant or perhaps uncaring of the way Gingka’s fists tightened at his sides.
Find Kyoya. Get to the hideout. Retrieve L Drago. Kenta and Madoka stood mutely by Benkei, but their eyes implored him all the same.
Gingka sighed. “It has nothing to do with you. Any of you.”
The effect on them was immediate, protests igniting faster than dry underbrush.
“Yes it does!”
“What do you mean it has nothing to do with us?”
“We’re supposed to be your friends!”
“You can’t say all that positive stuff to Kyoya, then turn around and do the opposite!”
Gingka flinched as the objections continued, persistent and unrelenting. He’d known they would be worried after his unbidden flight, but now when it came time to explain he choked on the words, even as his will to argue wore thin. They could sense the danger but didn't understand it, and they weren’t about to let him go before he explained himself.
“Doji,” Gingka spoke slowly. He didn’t miss the way their interrogation ceased almost immediately. From the look of surprise etched on their faces, it was clear they didn’t expect him to cave so easily. “Doji has a forbidden bey.”
“A forbidden bey?” Kenta echoed.
He removed Pegasus from its holder, ignoring the stab of pain that passed through him every time he held it. His father was buried in every groove and crevice of the energy ring, and the words Gingka spoke were Ryo’s, not his own.
“Beyblades possess a special, hidden power within them, a power that should only be used for battling. The Forbidden Bey…” His fist closed around Pegasus’s fusion wheel. “Its power is different. Evil. It was sealed away long ago, so its power could be contained.”
Gingka waited for the words to sink in, but while Kenta’s eyes widened, Madoka’s narrowed in skepticism.
“How can a bey be evil?” she asked, lips pursed.
“You’ve seen what damage even normal beys can do in the wrong hands,” Gingka replied. “The Face Hunters bullied and intimidated less experienced bladers.” Kenta and Benkei took a half step back from each other uneasily, but Gingka continued. “Tetsuya made it his goal to scratch people’s beys beyond repair.”
Madoka shuddered and ran a hand over her bare fingertips. “Okay, okay, I follow. But what’s special about this Forbidden Bey?”
He sighed. The longer he spoke about it, the more the itchy, crawling feeling beneath his skin threatened to overwhelm him. “I can’t tell you. But you have to believe me. It was hidden for a reason.”
“And you’re saying Doji found a way to break the seal?” Benkei exclaimed.
Ryuga’s laugh. The mountain caving in. Gingka kept his face and voice steady. “Yes. The Dark Nebula wants to use it outside of battle, but I can’t allow it. It’s why I’ve been travelling across the country, trying to get stronger. If this bey, Lightning L Drago, is awakened, something terrible will happen.”
“And that’s why you need to talk to Kyoya,” Kenta breathed. “He’s been to their headquarters.”
Gingka nodded.
“Then there’s no time to waste,” Benkei declared. “I’ll ask him right now for you.” He took off running into the shop, Kenta at his heels.
“Slow down!” Madoka called after them, hesitating for a moment as she eyed Gingka, seeming to scrutinize his condition like a bey in her workshop. He forced a breath through his nose, slowly, evenly, like Hyoma had taught him, and prayed silently to the stars that it stopped his shaking. Then he took off after Kenta and Benkei without waiting to see if Madoka deemed his condition satisfactory.
He’d hardly made it through the door of B-Pitt when Benkei’s voice reverberated through the shop.
“Kyoya!” He cried out. Madoka and Gingka bounded up the stairs, halting at the doorway to the spare bedroom. Benkei and Kenta stood dumbfounded in front of the neatly-made bed, the evidence of Kyoya’s stay carefully erased. “Kyoya, where’d you go?”
“He was just here a few minutes ago,” Kenta insisted.
“I’ll look around,” Madoka said, already turning to go, but Gingka caught her arm.
“He won’t be here,” he said, raising a hand and pointing to the window. A breeze fluttered in through a bare sliver of space, lifting the curtains gently. “He closed it from the outside, but couldn’t lock it.” He could feel his shoulders sinking, feeling heavy as dejection settled over him like fresh snow, muting everything around him. Again he heard his voice as though detached from himself. “I’m going to look for him. He can’t have gone far.” Robotic limbs carried him towards the exit, stiff and cramping, but Benkei blocked his path.
“Let me go first,” he said, holding out a large hand and catching Gingka by the shoulder. “I’ve known Kyoya for years, and I know this city like the back of my hand. If anyone should go looking, it’s me.”
Gingka tried to shake him off, but the ground shifted violently beneath him.
“Benkei’s right! You’ve been out all night,” Kenta added. “You can hardly stand straight.”
“I’m just fine,” Gingka protested, but Kenta took one arm and Madoka the other, the pair guiding him back into the empty bedroom.
“Kyoya…” he whispered, but the fight had left him long ago. Gingka finally slumped forward, energy sapped; his friends carried him, relieved to be allowed to bear the weight.
—
His friends took turns caring for him that day, insisting that he rest after spending the entire night awake. Kenta and Benkei were the first to search for Kyoya when internet inquiries for the Dark Nebula turned out to be fruitless; Gingka tried to slip out the door to follow them, but Madoka held her arm out and cast him a withering glare. Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be confined to the bedroom from which Kyoya had vanished. The bed was cool and crisply made, and all evidence of his stay had been erased save for the scent of dirt and grass between the sheets.
Madoka was bossy. There was no softer way to phrase it. With a militant presence she stood over Gingka as he ate the lunch she’d brought for him (“Just when was the last time you ate a vegetable?” she’d exclaimed, to which Gingka had no answer.) Then she brought her laptop up to his room for the dual purpose of continuing the investigation and ensuring that Gingka could not slip away to join the search.
“You,” she’d said pointedly, “are going to be of no use to us if you collapse by the time we do find the Dark Nebula’s headquarters.”
“But Madoka–”
“No buts!” Gingka almost jumped at the sudden forcefulness. Obediently he removed his jacket and gloves, and crawled into bed. The softness of the mattress seemed to draw out the fatigue he’d been suppressing, leaching it from his bones and enveloping him in its haze; it was only mere moments before he’d fallen asleep. As he slipped out of consciousness, he heard Madoka whisper one more time, so faint and so at odds with her commandeering voice, he wasn’t sure if he’d dreamed it.
“Let us take care of this, Gingka.”
—
When he awoke, hours later, it was Benkei resting on the lounge chair, head leaning against the wall as he’d nodded off. Gingka watched as it slowly, slowly tipped to the side, neck muscles in a losing battle against gravity. Abruptly his head passed the point of no return, falling sharply and snapping back into place, startling Benkei from his slumber.
“I– I’m awake!” he blubbered, leaping to his feet and glancing around, getting his bearings. Gingka smiled as he shut his eyes once more, sleep coercing him back into its hold even as he heard Benkei continue to move around the room.
Two hands took gentle hold of sheets and brought them up to his shoulders where they’d begun to slip off the bed, then tucked them gently around him. Benkei gave a satisfied grunt and plopped back down into the chair once more, his snores soon filling the empty silent room.
Gingka’s traitorous heart swelled and his throat tightened. How, he wondered then, had he convinced himself that he was alone?
—
Glass shattered around him, and Gingka bolted upright at the sound, instinctively reaching for Pegasus, his heart dropping as his holster came up empty. The purple crystal encasing the Forbidden Bey disintegrated in Ryuga’s palm, shards catching reflections of firelight and twinkling as they fell to the ground and crunched beneath his feet. Ryuga was here, Ryuga had freed L Drago, his father was in danger…
“I’m sorry!” Kenta cried out, waving his hands in frantic apology, clearly taken aback. Steaming milk and the splintered remnants of a mug were splattered across the floor at his feet. Gingka slowly registered the room around him, lit by the warm light of the sunset, and not the deep orange hues of molten rock. The ground beneath him was soft– he was standing on the bed, poised to run, Pegasus on the bedside table, the walls around him sturdy and unmoving.
And his father long dead.
Safe, at Madoka’s, if not sound.
He turned his attention back to Kenta, who was looking at him oddly, brow furrowed in confusion. Gingka slowly sank back down onto the mattress, sitting comfortably and making his best effort to appear unbothered. It proved decidedly ineffective.
“Are you… Are you okay, Gingka?” Kenta asked him hesitantly, as though he weren’t sure he was allowed the question.
Gingka laughed, perhaps a hair too cheerfully, and scratched his head. “Of course! You just surprised me is all.”
“Oh no! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you,” Kenta apologized again, seeming to remember the mess on the floor. He scrambled for a towel and knelt to the ground attempting to soak up the spilled milk. “I was bringing you something to drink– Madoka said it’d been all day since you’d last had something, she went out with Benkei to look for Kyoya again– but I tripped over the rug.” He spoke fast, nearly stumbling over his own words.
“Slow down,” Gingka said, sliding on his slippers and rising to help.
“I’ve got it!” Kenta flung out a hand to stop Gingka, but lost his balance, catching himself with his other arm. It landed amidst the debris; a large gash blossomed red where a shard of the broken mug sliced his hand. “Ouch!”
He clutched his hand tight, blood dripping through his fingers onto the floor and staining the hem of his shorts. Gingka moved to help him, but Kenta held his injured palm to his chest defensively, shying away, stubbornly blinking back tears.
“No!” he insisted, pressing his shirt into the wound, a childish attempt to staunch the bleeding. “I’m supposed to be helping you. I’m fine! You rest, Gingka, and I’ll be right back, you won’t have to worry about this at all.”
Gingka ignored him, gingerly stepping between the shards; Kenta’s clear distress steadied something in Gingka, protective instinct overriding his own anxieties. He placed a firm hand on Kenta’s rigid shoulders, and guided him to the bathroom.
“Come on,” Gingka said. “Let’s get you washed up.”
He helped Kenta run cool sink water over his hands, letting the blood and ceramic dust slip down the drain. Kenta mumbled apologies throughout, but Gingka ignored them. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine he was by the Koma Village well, cleaning the dirty scrapes from Hyoma’s hands after he’d fallen on the uneven cobblestone path. Any second now, and Ryo would call them home for dinner.
Gingka shook his head. That was a past long gone. He tore his scarf with his teeth and wrapped the fabric once, then twice around Kenta’s hand, securing it with a practiced knot, the motion carved into his memory.
He held on a beat too long. Kenta flexed his fingers to test the pain, then tilted his head upwards, meeting Gingka’s eyes.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Gingka?”
He smiled as he dropped Kenta’s hand. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Kenta opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, the door to B-Pitt swung open, the bell clanging to announce the arrival of a customer.
“Kenta!” Osamu shouted, the smattering of footsteps indicating he had Takashi and Akira in tow. “We’re heading out one last time to find Kyoya before the sun sets! Are you coming?”
“On my way!” Kenta called down the stairs. He turned back to Gingka. “Let me clean up the bedroom, then I’ll go if that’s alright.”
“I’ll take care of it. You go on ahead.”
“What? No! You’re supposed to rest!”
“I’ve been resting all day,” Gingka’s voice trailed into a whine. He did a few jumping jacks in place to prove his point, then shoved Kenta towards the stairs. “Go. I’m perfectly able to take care of myself.”
“Alright, if you insist.” He took off towards the door behind Akira. “We’ll let you know if we find anything!”
The bell jingled once more as the front door shut, definitively behind him. Gingka’s face fell and he exhaled, left to contend silently with the emptiness of the store and the hollow, nostalgia aching in his chest.
—
By the time the moon had risen and cast its soft blue glow on the city, Gingka could no longer contain his restlessness. He hoped Madoka would forgive him for disobeying her orders to sit contentedly as she and the rest of his new friends handled the search. He slid Pegasus into the holster in his belt and slipped out of the shop, locking it behind him. Should he try to find his friends? Or should he look for Kyoya on his own?
“Gingka Hagane.”
Gingka nearly jumped as a figure peeled out from the shadows faced him, arms crossed over her chest.
“Hikaru!”
“Heard from Kenta that you’re going to fight the sleaze who beat up Kyoya after his battle with you. Doji, he said his name was?”
Gingka frowned. “Yeah,” he said cautiously, unsure of how much she knew. “He needs to be stopped.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” she replied easily.
“You know him or something?”
Her eyes darkened into something serious and she nodded once. “He approached me after my battles with you and Kenta. Asked me to join his group, the Dark Nebula or whatever it was called. Used my loss against you to try and, I don’t know, rile me up so I’d agree.”
“He did the same to Kyoya, too. Benkei says he was humiliated in front of his own gang, and when he came back, he disbanded the Face Hunters entirely.”
Hikaru raised an eyebrow. The information was clearly new, but she didn’t look surprised in the slightest. “Sounds about right. But you wanna know what really rubbed me the wrong way?”
“What is it?”
“He used my promise to Mother against me.” From the way she tilted her head and her eyes slid down to Gingka’s fist tightening at his side, Hikaru seemed to already know the effect the words would have on him. “It was her dying wish for me to be the best in the world. How Doji knew about that I have no idea, but he said I’d never fulfill my promise if I rejected his help.”
Fresh rage seeped into Gingka’s veins like oozing scabs. “That rat. Don’t tell me you listened to him.”
“Of course not. I told him to fuck off,” she scoffed, disdain dripping from her voice. “When I stand at the top of the world, it’ll be on my own two feet, not kneeling to some parasitic scumbag.” Hikaru set her jaw and looked Gingka up and down, sizing him up. “I was right, then.”
His lips tugged downwards, a frown equal parts confused and self conscious from the scrutiny.
“I don’t know who you’ve lost or what Doji has to do with it, but the grief’s been written all over your face since he showed up,” she said, sliding her hands into her pockets.
He opened his mouth to protest, but the words died under her appraising stare. “How can you tell?” was all he could stutter out.
“Call it a hunch. From one orphan to another.”
“Hikaru,” he breathed, but she’d already turned her face away.
“I heard Benkei shouting after Kyoya a few streets down. I’m sure Madoka will have found their headquarters by now.”
Almost on cue, Gingka heard his friends’ voices echoing between the buildings, calling out to him. He glanced back at Hikaru once more. She shot him a wry smile, muted beneath the flickering street lamps. It was strange, Gingka mused. From the moment she’d arrived in town, Hikaru had been a being of fiery conviction. Now though, she was quiet, eyes closed, respectful of the memories hanging between them. They lingered in the breath before Gingka’s world shifted for good, resting in the easy, solemn silence.
At last, Hikaru stepped back, flashing a peace sign with Aquario between her fingers, the vigor restored to her voice.
“When you go to face Doji, give him hell for me too, Gingka.”
“I will,” he said, but Hikaru had already vanished into the night, leaving his head spinning.
—
Kyoya had given only a vague indication of where the Dark Nebula headquarters were, but vanished before Gingka’s friends could press him for details. It didn’t matter, though; Madoka, Gingka was coming to realize, was a genius of calculations, and figured out the exact location of the hideout from only the direction of the moon and the time it took to travel. They set out on foot, Gingka’s heart stuttering in anticipation throughout the journey.
“Headquarters” didn’t truly encapsulate the magnitude of the Dark Nebula’s base. More accurate was a fortress, large and looming and heavily reinforced with steel, giving it a dull shine in the cloudy haze of the night. It was perched on a steep cliffside, overlooking a violent sea. Gingka led the four of them– Madoka, Kenta, Benkei, and himself– to the entrance; they had to crane their necks to see the high arch of the doorway. At the top, emblazoned on a lustrous metal sheet, was the same logo from the helicopter– purple and spiked and burned forever into Gingka’s memories.
Somehow, though, with his friends at his side, he didn’t feel as small in front of it. He tried to hold on to this feeling; though he knew it was futile, he needed to try one last time to shield them from the impending danger.
“Everyone,” he began, swallowing any lingering fear. “I want you to–”
“Oh no you don’t,” Benkei interrupted. “You’re not going to tell us to wait here, are you?”
“I–”
“If we wanted to do that, we wouldn’t have come with you from the start!” Kenta piped up.
“It’s not safe–”
“We can handle ourselves,” Madoka said firmly, eyes blazing with determination. “It’s alright.”
There was no use in arguing with them, and in truth, Gingka found he didn’t want to.
“Okay,” he conceded, and he couldn’t hide the grin that spread across his face. “Be careful. Let’s all go, then.”
Kenta whooped and high-fived Benkei as the four of them ran towards the steel door. Their cheers couldn’t hide the rumbling coming from the fortress though– like thunder, the walls shuddered as steel panels moved aside to reveal turrets all pointing directly at them.
Gingka froze at the front of the pack, throwing out a protective arm to stop their advance. “Not good!”
“Don’t you worry,” Kenta said, raising his launcher alongside Benkei. “We’ve got this.”
They launched their beys in tandem as the turrets fired out hundreds of their own, the high pitched shriek of metal on metal filling the air. Madoka ducked behind Gingka, unused to battles, and he shielded her as he launched Pegasus into the fray.
It was impossible to tell where their beys were in the mayhem. Guided by instinct alone, Gingka sent Pegasus towards the Dark Nebula beys, sending them flying into the air as they made contact. Next to him, he could see Kenta and Benkei doing the same, orange and red streaks speeding across the ground and leaving destruction in their wake. He was reminded keenly of the hundred bey battle he’d fought against the Face Hunters when he arrived in the city, and smiled grimly. Doji will have to try harder than this.
As if they’d heard Gingka’s thoughts, a low hum rose from the air as drones emerged from behind the fortress walls. They were too far to see, but like the turrets, their purpose was clear.
“Fall back!” Gingka called. “There’s more beys coming from above!”
The storm was relentless, a terrifying rain of metal all around. Benkei flinched and growled as a bey ricocheted off another, nicking his arm before Dark Bull could deflect it. They surrounded Madoka with their backs to her, protecting her from the onslaught, but their defenses were wearing thin by the second.
“There’s just too many of them!” Kenta cried out, as Sagittario pushed back another. “We’ll never get through!”
Gingka gritted his teeth. Kenta was right, but he couldn’t accept it, not after he’d dragged his friends into harm’s way. Blood thrumming with adrenaline, he channeled his rising panic into Pegasus. Five, ten, fifteen beys were knocked into the air around them, but it made no difference, not when more came sailing down from the drones above, waiting to take their place.
It couldn’t be over already. But the beys were closing in and they were losing ground, bodies pressed together as they tried to take up as little space as they could in the onslaught. Kenta closed his eyes first, shielding his face with his arms. The scarf around his hand was torn and bloodstained– it must’ve caught on one of the beys. Benkei held his ground in stubborn determination, but sweat beaded his brow and Bull had begun to wobble at his feet.
And yet he couldn’t give up. Not here, not when L Drago was in his sights, just within the fortress walls. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he tried to think of a way through. Maybe they didn’t need to fight all these beys. Maybe, just maybe, it’d be enough to break down the steel door, then run like hell until they escaped the free-for-all.
“Madoka,” he said, turning over his shoulder. He had to shout to be heard over the din. “I’m gonna have Pegasus break down the door. Can you figure out a path?”
She frowned as she retrieved her laptop, hunching over it to protect it with her body. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly as she made her calculations, glancing up on occasion to survey the field.
“I’ve got it– but it’s no good, Gingka. Pegasus is nearing its limit. There’s no way it’ll have the power on its own.”
“I’ve still got to try. If there’s any hope, it’s through the gate. Just tell me when to go.”
A sigh as she muttered something he didn’t catch. “Okay– on my signal, tell Pegasus to go straight down the center.”
“Got it.”
“Ready…” He brought Pegasus in line and focused on the path. He only had one chance, and he had to make it count.
“Go!”
“Go, Pegasus!” The bey glowed bright, burning blue as it hurtled towards the gate, narrowly missing the frenzied storm of beys around it. With a bang, it collided with the steel façade, sending up a cloud of dirt and smoke from the impact. Gingka held his forearm up to his eyes, blinking away the grime as the dust cleared.
It was as Madoka said– the door was dented, but undoubtedly whole. His heart sank, and he tried to strike again, but the attempt was futile. One of the endless beys hit Pegasus from the side, knocking it off course towards yet another waiting in the wings to hit.
“Pegasus!” He couldn’t give up. There had to be a way out, something he still hadn’t thought of. If only he could scatter them all at once, he could just take a second to regain his power and get them out of the relentless hail.
His friends were tiring by the second, looking to him for answers he didn’t have.
Again Gingka tried to break free of the attacks, and Pegasus collided with the door, but there was even less of an effect this time; it bounced uselessly back from the steel.
“That won’t work!” A voice boomed from behind him, surprising Gingka out of his rising despair. “ Leone ! Go shoot!”
The four turned in unison, watching as the bey streaked up the sloping path of the cliffside, a grounded green comet exploding across the greyed earth. Kyoya followed closely, silhouetted against the glow, eyes wild as he channeled his power into Leone.
“Kyoya!” Benkei exclaimed, visibly brightening, energy restored at the sight of him alone.
“Out of my way!” Kyoya screamed in return. “Leone! King Tearing Blast!”
Four tornadoes erupted from Leone, deafening Gingka completely in the subsequent chaos. Benkei tackled him, pulling Madoka and Kenta along roughly too, protecting them from the violent storm with his body. The Dark Nebula beys lifted from the ground in swathes, sucked into the windstorm and spit mercilessly into the air; above them, the drones collided in deafening bursts. Benkei shifted and Gingka could no longer see them fall, only hear the squeal of their scraping aluminum bodies and feel the heat as they exploded and shrapnel pelted them from above.
A hand grabbed at the nape of Gingka’s neck, stealing his breath as he was jerked sharply upwards, bringing him face-to-face with Kyoya’s scarred features. Deep bruises lined Kyoya’s arms, no doubt from his scuffle with Doji the previous night, but they didn’t seem to pain him.
“Get up, Gingka.” Kyoya growled, pressing Pegasus roughly into his palm. He dug his hand into his pockets and tossed Bull and Sagittario to the ground unceremoniously for Kenta and Benkei to collect. “Don’t tell me you’ve given up already.”
“No– no,” Gingka stuttered, “of course not.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” He was impatient, harsh, biting, a wraith torn from the earth. “Get the door!”
Gingka didn’t wait for him to finish, launching his bey into the cleared field and struggling against the wind to Kyoya’s side.
“Just what are you doing here, Kyoya?” He shouted.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Kyoya snarled in return. “I don’t buy your ‘Forbidden Bey’ crap. I’m here for Doji– if you get in my way, I’ll take you down right along with him.”
Gingka couldn’t help himself; he felt himself relaxing and grinned despite the threat. Kyoya could be counted on to act without pretense. This was, in the end, another debt he was repaying, another sin for which Doji was to be held accountable. Spinning together in the field, fending off the steady stream of beys, Pegasus and Leone seemed to call out to their bladers. Gingka felt the aching of the Wolf’s bite in Leone’s body, and the emanating resolve to return the favor. For a fleeting instant, Gingka wondered if Kyoya could hear the echoes of Pegasus’s memory too. If he did, he showed no indication.
It didn’t matter, though. His resolve was unshakeable, and their spirits were one.
“Let’s do this together, then,” Gingka declared.
“Don’t forget about us!” Kenta piped up from behind.
“Yeah! Kyoya, buddy, don’t even think about leaving me behind.” Benkei boomed.
Bull and Sagittario rejoined the fray, joining Pegasus in circling Leone’s tornado. Kyoya flashed them a ferocious, fanged smile and the winds picked up speed, completely clearing the field for them.
“Don’t you dare hold back then! Leone! One more time! King Lion Tearing Blast!”
“Pegasus Starblast Attack!”
“Sagittario Flame Claw!”
“Bull Uppercut!”
Red, blue, and orange streaked the howling whirlwind as it ploughed forward, bathing the desolate cliffside in a rainbow of light. Their beys thrummed with determination, accelerating as they poured their heart into attack, the manifestation of their very spirits joining together. The steel gate arched over itself as the maelstrom approached, screws and hinges loosening and shooting forward like bullets sucked into the unrelenting tempest. At last they made contact with the doorway, their screams drowning out the splintering shriek as the metal gave way to their beys.
“Come quick!” Gingka seized Kenta and Madoka’s arms, dragging them through the gaping maw of the entryway, his eyes burning from the smoking debris. He was met with a second of resistance as Kenta lunged for Benkei, who’d clutched Kyoya’s wrist as well. Before the dust could settle, they darted ahead into the fortress after their beys.
Hand in hand, Gingka led the way through the fortress, never more grateful for the solidity of their flesh in his palms or the rush of spirit racing alongside his heartbeat. Every gasping footfall whispered the same thing in his ear.
You, Gingka, are not alone.