Chapter 3 – : After Three Years
Three years passed faster than I expected.
The small village hadn't changed much, but I had.
The open field behind our house had become my training ground.
Grass had worn away in wide circles from thousands of launches.
Every scratch in the dirt was a mark of progress.
Eclipse Drago spun across the stadium I'd built myself—a simple wooden frame with a metal sheet inside.
Each movement felt precise. Every sound told me something.
A clean hum meant balance. A faint skip meant I'd rushed the pull.
"Three… two… one… let it rip!"
The string slid smooth through my fingers.
Drago hit the bowl and curved along the edge, holding its low lane perfectly.
The driver activated just right, a single flare at the end before settling again.
Three years ago, I would've called that luck.
Now, it was rhythm.
My rhythm.
I crouched and watched until the spin faded out.
The Bey tilted slightly, then stopped upright in the center.
Stable. Focused.
I picked it up carefully.
"You've gotten quieter," I said with a small grin.
"You've gotten better," came the calm voice inside my head.
I smiled a little wider. "Guess that means we're even."
The air was warm, the afternoon sunlight soft against the field.
Somewhere beyond the trees, I could hear my father hammering away at something in the workshop.
It was peaceful, but it wasn't enough anymore.
We'd trained here for years.
I could feel it—Drago was ready for more.
And so was I.
"Soon," I whispered. "We'll take that next step."
The Bey glimmered faintly in my palm, as if answering, "I'm waiting."
The afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the workshop.
I sat cross-legged near the window, notebook open, pencil balanced between my fingers.
Three years of training — reduced to a few pages of worn paper.
I flipped through the earlier notes, the messy sketches and circles drawn around failed angles.
Every smudge was a reminder of a mistake that had become progress.
At the very end of the notebook, I began a new page and wrote carefully across the top:
"Confirmed Techniques – Eclipse Drago."
---
1. Dragon Crash
Pure offense.
Drago surges forward like a coiled flame finally unleashed.
When the launch is perfect, the spin grows so violent that the arena hums beneath it.
Sparks lift from the rim, forming a spiral of gold and red light — almost like a dragon breaking free from the ground.
It took me months to learn how to guide that power without losing balance.
Now, it's my cleanest strike.
---
2. Reverse Inferno
A move born from failure.
The first time I saw it, Drago had been slammed by another Bey and bounced back in the opposite direction — yet somehow gained speed instead of losing it.
That rebound became a counter.
Now, with careful timing, I let Drago take the hit, absorb it, and twist it into strength.
In motion, the air around it twists into small vortexes, glowing faintly red.
It's risky, but when it works, the return hit lands like lightning.
---
3. Eclipse Destruction (Finisher)
My strongest technique — the one that still makes my chest tighten when it works.
During a full-power launch, the heat within Drago builds until the vents flare open.
For a heartbeat, its wings flicker in gold-red light, and the driver ignites with a single spark.
Then it spins upward in a spiral, devouring the light around it.
The impact flashes white — like the sun itself collapsing.
It's power and control in one breath… and it still scares me a little.
---
I leaned back and exhaled.
Three moves.
That was all — but together, they defined who I was as a blader.
Drago's voice stirred quietly in my head. "You've finally given them names."
"Yeah," I said with a faint smile. "Names make them real."
"And names carry weight."
"I know."
The Bey rested warm in my palm, its red core catching the last light of the day.
I closed the notebook and set it aside.
Three techniques. Three years.
Enough to take the next step.
"Soon," I said softly, "we'll show Beycoma what we've built."
Drago pulsed once, as if in agreement.
"Then let's make them remember the name Eclipse."
The next morning was calm.
The field behind our house looked the same as always, but something about the air felt sharper.
When I stepped outside, Ren was already standing near the stadium.
The metal bowl shone in the sun, and two launchers rested on the table.
"Morning," I said.
He gave me a slight nod. "Morning. Ready for your last test?"
"A test?"
"A battle," he replied with a smile. "If you can beat me today, you're ready for Beycoma."
He picked up his old Bey, its shell covered in scratches. It still carried weight.
I couldn't help but grin. "You're not going to go easy on me, are you?"
Ren chuckled. "You wouldn't learn anything if I did."
---
We took our positions on opposite sides of the stadium.
My grip tightened around the launcher.
"Three, two, one, let it rip!"
The ripcords snapped at the same time.
Both Beys exploded into motion.
Ren's spun with a heavy roar, cutting through the air like a saw.
Drago met it head-on, gold and red light flashing across the rim.
The first clash sent a wave of air through the grass.
I could feel it against my arms.
"Dragon Crash!" I shouted.
Drago curved along the wall, energy tightening until it slammed into Ren's Bey again.
Sparks scattered, the sound of metal filling the air.
Ren stayed calm. "Not bad," he said softly.
"But you still don't trust yourself completely."
I clenched my jaw. He was right. I hesitated, even now.
No more.
"Alright, Drago. Let's show him."
The Bey's core glowed brighter. The red deepened until it looked alive.
I could feel the heat rise through the metal grip.
"Now… Eclipse Destruction!"
Drago dove forward.
The air around it distorted as its speed grew.
A light burst from its vents, and then something new happened.
For a moment, two golden segments lifted from the ring.
They weren't there before. Small, curved wings, glowing faintly red at their edges.
The energy spiked.
Impact followed.
A wave of wind exploded outward.
Ren's Bey burst apart, fragments bouncing off the stadium walls.
I lowered my arm, heart pounding.
"What was that?"
The glow faded from Drago's surface.
I picked it up carefully, the metal still warm.
That was your true strike, a voice echoed softly in my head.
I frowned. "Those… wings. You've never done that before."
Not until now. It happens when you stop holding back.
I didn't fully understand, but I nodded.
Ren walked up to the bowl, smiling proudly.
"Congratulations. You're ready."
I looked down at Drago, still pulsing faintly with heat.
"I think we both are."
Then let's go find stronger battles, the voice said quietly.
And for the first time, I could feel that Drago meant it.
The days after the battle passed quickly.
Every morning felt a little different now.
Even the air seemed lighter, as if the world already knew I was leaving.
Ren spent most of the time fixing up my launcher, tightening every screw and polishing the frame until it shined like new.
He didn't say much while he worked, but that was normal for him.
On the last evening, I stood in the doorway of the workshop, watching the sunset spill across the walls.
The tools were quiet for once.
Ren looked up from the bench and smiled faintly.
"Everything's ready," he said. "Launcher's tuned, and I packed a few spare parts in your case."
"Thanks," I said. My voice came out softer than I expected.
He walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You've worked harder than anyone I've seen, Ryo. Whatever happens next, don't forget why you started."
"I won't," I said.
He nodded once, satisfied, then handed me a small cloth bag.
Inside was Eclipse Drago, resting perfectly in its holder.
Even without spinning, the Bey seemed to radiate warmth.
Ready to move, Drago's voice murmured quietly in my head.
I smiled. "Yeah, I think so."
---
That night, I didn't sleep much.
I spent hours staring at the ceiling, replaying every launch, every battle, every moment Drago's light had flared.
When morning came, I stepped outside with my travel bag slung over one shoulder.
The road stretched out beyond the trees, straight and endless.
Ren stood at the gate.
"You'll be fine," he said.
"I know."
He extended his hand. I took it, feeling the roughness of all the years he'd spent working.
Then he let go.
I looked down at Drago one more time, the sunlight glinting off its golden ring.
"We've come this far," I said softly. "Let's see how far we can go."
The Bey pulsed once, steady and confident. Forward, it said.
So I walked.
Each step away from home felt lighter, stronger, more certain.
Ahead waited Beycoma Academy, new rivals, and battles that would test everything I'd learned.
And for the first time since I'd arrived in this world,
I wasn't just surviving anymore.
I was chasing something.
Something that burned like fire.