Leviathan's Mirage Tide kept rolling, relentless in its rhythm. Every sweep of its path was smooth, controlled, like the ocean pushing against the same shoreline again and again until the ground beneath it gave way. Snake was holding, but I could feel it in the thrum between us—the strain was building. If I waited too long, the match wouldn't be mine to take.
I tracked her Bey's movements in silence, ignoring the commentary, ignoring the shouts from the stands. The rest of the world could disappear right now, and it wouldn't matter. It was just me, Snake, and the predator in the center circle.
Leviathan hooked in again, another precise nudge sending Snake skirting the edge. My heartbeat stayed steady, in sync with the vibrations I felt in my palm. That link wasn't just some weird trick—it was my read on the match, clearer than anything my eyes could give me.
Kaiya adjusted, cutting across the center, setting up another push. This time, I didn't evade completely. I let Snake brush the slope, the friction slowing us just enough to make her think she had the timing perfect.
She took it. Leviathan slid into a tighter arc, aiming for the same destabilizing undercut she'd used earlier. That was the opening I'd been waiting for—not a gap in her defense, but a moment where she'd committed fully to the move.
I exhaled slowly. "Now."
The connection surged like a shock running up my arm. Snake's spin tightened, speed climbing as if every rotation was feeding back into itself. The coils in its path drew inward, faster and sharper, until the air around it felt like it was being pulled into a spiral.
"Abyssal Vortex!"
The change was instant. A deep hum rolled out from the stadium floor, so low I felt it more than I heard it. The vortex's pull sharpened, and for a moment, the light in the arena dimmed—not because the lamps faded, but because the center of the stadium was swallowing it.
Then it happened.
A thick beam of black light tore upward from Snake's position, stabbing into the sky above the arena like it had split the air itself. Inside that column, faint shapes twisted and coiled—shadowy scales catching glints of silver, like some enormous serpent was rising with it.
Gasps erupted from the crowd. I barely noticed. All my focus was on the way Leviathan jerked in its path, pulled toward the vortex like the stadium had become a drain in the middle of an ocean.
Kaiya reacted instantly, trying to swing her Bey out of the pull, but it was too late. The vortex dragged harder, every second tightening its grip, the spinning black coils closing in. Leviathan's careful rhythm shattered. Its path wobbled, then crossed too close to Snake's.
Impact.
The sound was sharper than any other hit in the match, a metallic crack that made the floor under my shoes vibrate. The moment they connected, the beam flared brighter, a blinding black-silver pulse shooting higher before snapping shut like a clenched fist.
Leviathan was gone from the center. It flew across the stadium in a blur of silver and blue, slamming into the far edge with enough force to leave a jagged fracture in the floor where it hit. The sound of it stopping was final.
The crowd erupted, the noise crashing over me in waves. Camera flashes sparked across the stands. Somewhere in the chaos, I heard the announcer shouting, but the words didn't register.
Snake's spin held steady, the vortex fading until the air felt normal again. A dark afterimage lingered in my vision—like the moment before sleep when you can still see the shape of a dream.
Then Snake shifted. Instead of stopping where it stood, it rebounded off the floor in a smooth upward arc, spinning through the air with steady momentum. My hand rose automatically, and Snake landed neatly in my palm, still turning strong before its spin finally eased down.
The metal was warm—no, hot—like it had been sitting under the sun. The vibrations were fading, but I could still feel the faint echo of that heartbeat rhythm in my palm.
Across the stadium, Kaiya had already retrieved Leviathan. She looked down at it for a moment, then up at me.
"I miscalculated you," she said simply, her tone steady but with a trace of acknowledgement.
I met her gaze, saying nothing. She gave a small nod before turning and walking off the platform.
The referee's voice finally cut clear through the noise.
"Winner—Ethan Kael!"
The scoreboard updated instantly, my name moving up into the semifinal slot. BP gain displayed under it, but I barely looked. This wasn't about the numbers anymore.
From the stands, I caught sight of Kenta watching me intently, his arms crossed and a small frown on his face—more curiosity than hostility. A few seats over, Taro "Rush" Inoue leaned forward, grinning like he'd just seen something that made him even more eager for his turn. Gideon Voss's eyes narrowed slightly, measuring me like a problem to be solved.
They were all thinking the same thing: if they faced me, they'd need to be ready for the Vortex.
I closed my fingers tighter around Snake, feeling the weight of it in my hand. The Abyssal Vortex wasn't just a flashy move—it was mine. And right now, I knew exactly what it could do.
The next round wouldn't be easy. Whoever I faced, they'd be watching me closely after this. But that was fine. Let them watch. Let them think they knew what was coming.
They hadn't seen everything yet.