Tony sat frozen, his mother's words echoing inside his head.
A Beyblade college…?
His mom tilted her head, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.
"What's with that look? Don't tell me you've never thought about it."
Tony forced out a weak laugh. "Me? Uh… no, not really."
She sighed softly, the kind of sigh that carried both patience and inevitability.
"Colleges won't even look at you if you don't have your own Beyblade. It has to be legally registered, too. Since your old one was never registered… we'll need to get you a new one."
Tony blinked. His mind spun like a top.
"A… new one? But… where do you even buy a Beyblade in this world?"
Her smile deepened, almost like she'd been waiting for that question.
"Come with me tomorrow. I'll show you."
A strange pressure tightened in Tony's chest—equal parts nerves and excitement.
A new Beyblade… My first real step into this strange world.
"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Come down soon," his mom said, calm as ever, before leaving the room.
Tony stared at the glowing laptop screen, his finger hovering over the shutdown button. But curiosity clawed at him.
I still have a few minutes… why not check out more colleges?
He scrolled back through the rankings and clicked the second entry.
Rank 2: Obsidian Fang College
The page loaded, and just like before, the top Blader's profile filled the screen.
Name: Derick Dorman [No photo available]
Beyblade: Wing Pegasus 127RF
Description: Known as the Iron Fang of the Arena, Derick is feared for his ferocious Pegasus-style attacks. His Bey thrives on raw collision power and unrelenting speed, breaking through defenses most Bladers consider unshakable. To Obsidian Fang College, he is their pride—the rival destined to stand against Stormpeak's Chris and his legendary L-Dracon.
Tony's eyes lingered on the name.
"Wing… Pegasus," he muttered under his breath. The word stirred something in him, faint but undeniable—an unexplainable pull deep in his chest.
"Dinner's ready, Tony!!" his mother called loudly from downstairs.
He snapped the laptop shut without hesitation and rushed down to join his family, laughter and chatter filling the table as they discussed tomorrow's plans.
Later that night, at 10:42 PM, Tony lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Sleep refused to come. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that pale boy's face—the streak of crimson in his hair—the name that felt both foreign and familiar.
Chris.
⸻
The next morning, 9:45 AM.
Tony followed his mom into the bustling heart of the city. His eyes widened as he took it all in—posters of Bladers plastered across walls, kids launching Beys in street arenas, glowing shop signs marked with spinning emblems.
This wasn't just a hobby.
This was life.
They stopped before an old-fashioned shop. Its wooden sign read:
"Warrior's Armory – Blades of Destiny."
The door creaked as they stepped inside. The air smelled of oil and iron. Glass cases lined the walls, each holding Beyblade parts that shimmered like treasure. while others gleamed sleek and modern, polished to perfection.
"Damn… these look so good," Tony murmured, awestruck.
He noticed something odd. Every face bolt was plain gray, devoid of any design—and each carried a price tag of $150.
As Tony leaned closer, an employee approached with a calm smile.
"Hello, sir. Would you like to purchase a Beyblade… or customize one for yourself?"
"We'll go with customization," his mother answered smoothly.
"As you wish. Please, follow me."
They were led to a customization table. A tablet-like device sat at its center, glowing with options.
Choose your type:
[ATTACK]
[DEFENSE]
[STAMINA]
[BALANCED]
Tony thought for a moment, then tapped [ATTACK].
[Choose your Energy Ring color.]
A translucent glass ring surrounding the Metal Wheel.
A color wheel appeared. The employee handed Tony a stylus, bowing slightly.
"Take your time, sir. Call me when you're ready."
Tony selected a light orange ring.
Description: An Attack-type energy ring with three sharp stripes pointing upward, increasing collision damage and significantly reflecting airborne attacks.
[Choose your Metal Wheel.]
The core attack/defense component, forged from solid steel.
It took Tony ten minutes of scrolling, but he finally settled on Ray Type.
Description: A thin, bumpy, three-winged Fusion Wheel. Its jagged edges provide bursts of Smash Attack with every strike.
[Choose your Track.]
A plastic piece between the wheel and tip.
Tony scrolled endlessly through the catalog of Tracks. There were dozens—no, hundreds—each with strange shapes, spikes, and wings. Some looked completely impractical, others far too complex for a beginner. His head spun just looking at them.
"Tch… how do people even choose one?" he muttered under his breath.
On the corner of the tablet, a glowing option pulsed: [Auto Picker System Available].
The employee, noticing his hesitation, leaned in slightly. "That's a system designed for new Bladers. It analyzes your personal choices so far, your preferences, and even your hand movements on the tablet. From there, it suggests the most compatible missing piece for your Beyblade's overall performance."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "So it's like… an AI assistant for building a Bey?"
"Exactly," the man replied with his usual calm expression.
"Alright then… let's see what you've got," Tony whispered, pressing the glowing button.
The tablet buzzed softly. After a moment, a sleek design appeared on the screen.
Result: Right Wing 105 Track
Description: An Attack-type track with three small wings angled to the right. The wings push air downward, slightly increasing mobility and stamina while maintaining aggressive forward momentum.
Tony grinned faintly. "That… actually sounds perfect."
[Final: Choose your Performance Tip.]
The part that touches the stadium floor.
Tony hesitated, memories flashing of old Bladers using rubber flat tips—perfect for grip and speed. Without doubt, he chose Rubber Flat.
He called the employee, who returned with a nod.
"Excellent choice, sir. Your parts will arrive in two minutes."
While waiting, Tony glanced across the room. Two teenagers battled, their Beys clashing with sparks. The sound of plastic and steel colliding filled the air, alive with passion.
"Son… your Bey has arrived," his mother said softly.
The employee set down a black case. A translucent panel on top revealed the shining parts within.
Tony lifted the lid. The smell of freshly forged metal hit him—sharp, raw, almost unbearable.
With steady hands, he pulled out a small gray face bolt from his pocket and began assembling piece by piece. The Energy Ring clicked into place, the Metal Wheel locked in, the Track aligned, the Tip secured.
His Bey was complete.
They followed the employee into the testing chamber. A massive stadium lay before them—half filled with towering boulders, the other with thick wooden logs.
"Are you ready, sir?" the employee asked.
Tony nodded. His hands trembled as he loaded his Bey into the launcher.
"Three… two… one… Let it rip!"
The Bey shot forward like lightning. In an instant, it slammed into a boulder—shattering it into rubble. The next second, it tore through the wooden logs, splintering them clean in half.
Tony's eyes widened. His heart pounded.
This power…!
But when he tried to call it back, nothing happened. The Bey spun wildly, ignoring him.
"What… what's happening? Why isn't it listening?" Tony muttered under his breath.
The employee adjusted his glasses calmly.
"As expected. A fearsome attack type. Tremendous striking power, decent defense… but stamina remains its weakness."
Slowly, the Bey wobbled, lost momentum, and came to a halt.
Tony stepped into the stadium and picked it up. His fingers tightened around the frame as he stared down at it.
Then—
The dull gray face bolt shimmered. Its edges glowed faintly… shifting into a bright, golden yellow.
Tony's breath caught.
"…What the—?"