The world felt numb.
Axamu lifted his head slowly, eyes empty, staring into the night sky as if it held an answer for him.
Dark clouds rolled above, heavy and cold.
Then— Rain.
First drop. Then hundreds. Then a storm.
Water drenched him in seconds, soaking his hair, his jacket, his trembling hands.
Yet he did not move.
He just stood there on the street, chest rising and falling quietly, rain running down his cheeks like tears he no longer remembered how to shed.
His gaze didn't blink. Didn't flinch. Didn't feel alive.
Silence.
Until—
> DING––!
A cold digital chime rang in the storm.
A glitching blue screen floated in front of him.
> CONGRATULATIONS!
You tied the battle!
Axamu didn't react.
No shock.
No relief.
No anger.
Only hollow eyes staring through the system as though he wasn't really here anymore.
> Please choose your reward!
The screen flickered, glitching as if struggling to exist.
1. Beyblade X (Random)
2. Player Status (Random)
3. Hint of Fate: Extra Character (Random)
Rain splashed against the hologram, rippling through the light.
Axamu's hand rose slowly, fingers shaking slightly—not from fear, but from exhaustion.
His expression never changed.
No emotion.
No hesitation.
No thought.
Only emptiness.
His fingertip touched the glowing [3].
Hint of Fate: Extra Character (Random)
Tap.
The sound of digital confirmation echoed strangely through the rain.
But Axamu still stood there silently… Eyes blank. Heart cold. Soul half-erased.
The system clicked, processing his choice.
The storm raged on.
Yet Axamu did not feel a thing.
---
The digital light flickered once more.
The system processed his choice.
Then a final message appeared before him:
> Reward Acquired — Hint of Fate: Extra Character
"Go to the underworld…
and you may find the answer."
The text glitched, jittering like a dying signal.
Axamu stared at it blankly.
No breath caught in his throat.
No surprise widened his eyes.
No curiosity sparked within him.
Only silence.
Slowly, the system window faded into white static—
then vanished.
Leaving nothing but rain.
Axamu stood still for a moment longer, droplets running down his face like silent tears he refused to feel.
Then…
He moved.
A slow step.
Then another.
Feet dragging slightly across wet concrete.
His body walked;
his soul did not.
His hair clung to his forehead, soaked.
His clothes weighed heavy with water.
The night swallowed his silhouette as he wandered forward, purposeless.
No destination.
No thought.
The city around him shifted.
The glitching edges of reality…
the flickering distortions…
the warped lights…
All slowly dissolved.
By the time he walked past the corner street,
the world looked normal again.
Buildings stood solid.
Streetlights hummed softly.
Rain pattered on the stone road naturally, peacefully.
Reality had healed.
Everything was normal.
Except him.
Axamu's empty eyes reflected no light, only hollow darkness as the storm continued to wash over him and he drifted forward like a forgotten ghost.
Not running anymore.
Not fighting.
Just… moving.
A boy without a home. A blader without a world. A heart without a place that remembers him.
Step after step, the rain whispered around him.
But he did not whisper back.
He simply continued, emotionless, broken, walking toward a fate he never asked for.
---
Axamu kept walking, one lifeless step after another.
The city was awake around him, bright and noisy.
But to him, it all sounded distant — like echoes from another world.
His shoulder brushed someone.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!"
No response.
He didn't even turn his head.
Another bump.
"What's your problem?!"
Still nothing.
Then a hand grabbed his collar and yanked him backward.
He stumbled — vision dull, unfocused — as a fist suddenly slammed into his cheek.
CRACK.
Pain shot through his skull, but his expression didn't change.
He collapsed onto the cold pavement.
The man who hit him scoffed, annoyed at Axamu's lack of reaction.
"Tch. Psycho."
He walked off into the crowd, leaving Axamu lying there.
Rain continued falling hard, soaking into his clothes, dripping down his face like tears he wouldn't allow.
Axamu stared up at the night sky.
Gray. Heavy. Distant.
His breathing shallow.
His heart quiet.
His eyes empty.
Finally… a thought drifted in, weak and tired:
Ah… why do I keep trying…?
The rain answered in silence, tapping against his skin, the concrete, the world that forgot him.
His cheek throbbed with dull pain from the punch — but it felt so far away, like it belonged to someone else.
He did not move.
He did not cry.
He simply stared upward, blank and broken as the sky wept for him instead.
Everything he built.
Everyone he cared for.
Every smile.
Every memory—
Gone.
I worked so hard to live here…
and it meant nothing.
The rain poured heavier, as if the world wanted to drown him in sorrow.
He lay there motionless.
Cold.
Alone.
Forgotten.
A silent figure in the storm, asking a question only despair understands.
And no answer came.
Only rain.
---
Rain kept striking his face, cold and relentless.
Axamu didn't move.
He didn't care if he drowned in it.
Then—
Tap… tap… tap…
Footsteps approached.
The rain above him suddenly stopped falling on his face — blocked by an umbrella.
A figure crouched beside him, humming a strange tune.
"You look despair~
Ehe he he~"
Axamu slowly turned his eyes toward the voice.
A man squatted next to him, umbrella in hand, smiling wide.
A smile too sharp.
Too playful.
Too wrong.
"My name is Baito," the man sing-songed.
His eyes glimmered like he enjoyed the misery he was witnessing.
He tilted his head, giggling softly.
"Tell me, brat…
Are you interested in the underworld~?"
Axamu stared blankly, rain dripping off his chin, breath shallow.
No spark in his eyes.
No strength in his heart.
Only emptiness.
Slowly… almost numb… his head lifted in a faint nod.
Baito's grin widened, stretching unnaturally.
"Heh heh heh~ Good…"
He tapped Axamu's cheek lightly with a gloved finger.
"The broken ones always make the most interesting stories~"
Then he stood, offering Axamu a hand.
"Then come with me, brat~
Eh he he he~"
Axamu didn't know why he reached up.
Maybe because nothing mattered anymore.
Maybe because he had lost everything already.
Maybe because… this world had rejected him, and the underworld was the only place left.
His fingers touched Baito's hand.
Cold.
Firm.
Wrong.
Baito's umbrella tilted — the rain suddenly sounded distant, muted, like the world itself was fading away.
"Let's begin your descent, Axamu."
Axamu blinked.
"…You know my name?"
Baito's smile sharpened.
"Of course.
The underworld remembers what the world forgets."
Thunder rolled across the sky.
The air distorted.
A cold wind pulled at Axamu's clothes — like something from below was reaching up for him.
And then—
The street… the buildings… the rain…
all dissolved into darkness.