Morning light filtered through the high windows of the Beycoma Academy training hall.
The air was still, filled with the faint echo of spinning Beys from other rooms.
Ryo stood alone on the center platform, launcher in hand, Eclipse Drago glinting faintly in the sun.
He'd been there for an hour already.
No music. No crowd. Just the low hum of his own breath.
Something was different.
The hesitation that used to sit somewhere behind his ribs was gone.
He didn't feel the weight of control anymore, or the fear of showing too much.
Only rhythm. Only fire.
He placed Drago on the launcher and smiled quietly.
"Ready?"
A faint pulse vibrated through the grip, warm and steady.
That same connection from last night — still there. Still alive.
He took a single step back, dropped his shoulder, and launched.
"Three… two… one… Let it rip!"
The sound split the quiet air like thunder.
Drago burst forward, its frame glinting with red sparks.
The wings didn't flare out fully this time — only halfway.
They flickered with a dim golden edge, like fire holding its breath.
Ryo watched closely, eyes narrowing.
"Half launch strength… and still the wings react."
He lowered his voice. "Guess it's easier now, huh?"
A brief shimmer ran through Drago's aura, almost like an answer.
The Bey moved fast, carving wide arcs across the floor.
The flame trails it left behind bent smoothly, sharper than before but under perfect control.
Ryo crouched slightly, watching every line of motion.
There was no friction in his timing anymore, no sharp correction.
Every movement flowed. He wasn't adjusting — he was responding.
He picked it up again. The metal felt warmer than before.
Even when not spinning, Drago felt alive.
"Feels like you're always ready now," he murmured.
The core shimmered faintly red, then dimmed.
He smiled. "Yeah, me too."
Across the room, someone entered — the sound of light footsteps against the floor.
Ryo turned.
It was Shu, carrying his case under one arm.
"You're here early," Shu said, stopping near the edge of the platform.
Ryo nodded. "Couldn't sleep."
"Because of last night?"
Ryo hesitated, then nodded again. "Something changed."
He held out Drago, letting the light catch on the layer. "It feels different. Like it doesn't need me to hold it back anymore."
Shu studied him for a moment, eyes calm.
"That's how it should be," he said softly. "You used to fight against your Bey. Now you're fighting with it."
Ryo looked down at Drago, then at his own hand.
"Yeah… I can feel it. Even when I'm not launching."
He stepped back toward the platform, setting Drago down again.
"This launch won't be perfect," he muttered. "But that's fine."
Shu crossed his arms, watching closely. "Show me."
Ryo took his stance again — slower this time, deliberate.
"Three… two… one… Let it rip!"
Drago hit the stadium with a burst of speed.
The wings didn't open this time, but the energy still pulsed around it — controlled, sharp, alive.
A fine trail of gold shimmered behind it, tracing a circle that almost glowed.
Shu's eyes followed every movement. "Even without full release, the energy flow is stable."
Ryo nodded, smiling faintly. "Guess the wings don't need to come out every time."
He paused, watching the Bey slow. "Maybe they only react to intent."
Shu raised an eyebrow. "Intent?"
"Yeah," Ryo said simply. "Not power. Not pressure. Just how much I mean it."
The hall fell quiet for a moment except for the faint hum of Drago spinning down.
Ryo picked it up, the weight settling perfectly in his palm.
Tomorrow, he'd face Orochi Ginba — the blader with perfect hearing, the boy who could sense every burst before it happened.
He looked down at Drago again. "Then we'll just have to make him hear something new."
A faint spark of red light glimmered from the Bey's core.
For a second, it almost sounded like a soft laugh.
Ryo smiled back.
The fire wasn't just burning anymore.
It was awake.
The crowd outside BeyMall's main atrium stretched far down the street.
Banners hung from the glass walls, each one showing the eight remaining bladers.
The air vibrated with noise spinning launchers, cheering fans, the hum of the tournament's final rounds.
Ryo walked quietly through the main entrance, Drago's case in his hand.
The smell of metal and burnt rubber lingered in the air.
Everywhere he looked, screens replayed bursts from earlier matches Valkyrie's rush attacks, Spryzen's perfect counters,
He passed by one of them showing his own last battle.
Drago's red-gold aura flared across the image.
The crowd in the video screamed as the burst hit, and for a moment, the noise around him seemed to fade away again.
He could still feel that moment.
Not as power, but as pulse alive and quiet beneath his skin.
"Hey! You made it!"
Valt's voice cut through the crowd.
He ran up, grinning as always, launcher hanging from his wrist.
"Top eight! Can you believe it?"
Ryo smiled faintly. "You sound more surprised than I am."
"Of course I'm surprised! You went full super-mode back there! The whole place was glowing!"
"It wasn't on purpose," Ryo said.
"Yeah, right." Valt laughed, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Anyway, I'm up next after you, so don't finish too fast! I need the crowd warmed up!"
"Then don't make them wait too long," Ryo said, walking toward the competitors' gate.
From the side, a voice called out, calm but sharp.
"You two always make too much noise."
Shu stood near the corridor wall, Spryzen's case tucked neatly under his arm.
"Try not to burn the stadium down, Ryo," he said dryly. "It's still early in the day."
Valt pointed at him. "Says the guy who melted half the ridge yesterday!"
Shu ignored him, turning to Ryo. "You're facing Orochi Ginba first. Don't underestimate him."
"I know," Ryo said. "He listens before he moves."
"Exactly." Shu's eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't give him silence to read. Make him listen to your fire instead."
Ryo nodded once,
"I'll make sure he does."
The corridor leading to the stage was colder than usual the hum of the arena muffled behind heavy doors.
Ryo walked down slowly, each step echoing in the narrow hall.
At the end, he saw him.
Orochi Ginba leaned casually against the wall, headphones around his neck.
His eyes were half-closed, but Ryo could tell he wasn't resting.
He was listening to the crowd, the vibrations, even the faint thrum of the stadium floor.
When Ryo stopped a few meters away, Orochi opened one eye.
"So you're the one with the dragon," he said, voice light but steady.
Ryo nodded. "Eclipse Drago."
"I saw your last match," Orochi continued, pushing himself off the wall. "You make too much noise."
Ryo raised an eyebrow. "Noise?"
"Yeah. The crowd loved it. But noise hides rhythm."
He pointed to his ear, smiling faintly. "And I don't lose to anyone who forgets their rhythm."
Ryo met his gaze evenly.
For a second, the air between them felt charged not angry, just sharp.
Two bladers who understood each other without needing to say more.
Orochi smirked and walked past him toward the stage door.
The door slid open, and the roar of the audience crashed in like a wave.
Lights flashed across the stadium floor as the announcer's voice boomed:
"Quarterfinal match Ryo versus Orochi Ginba!"
Ryo stepped into the light.
The sound hit him first, then the heat from the crowd's energy.
He could feel Drago warming in his grip again, the faint pulse syncing with his own heartbeat.
He looked across the arena Orochi was already at his launcher station, smiling through the glare.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Let's make him hear us."
The crowd roared louder as the referee raised his hand.
"First round ready!"