Dust.
That was the first thing Kai registered. Powdered concrete in his throat, on his tongue, coating his lungs with every shallow breath.
Then pain.
His left shoulder was pinned under something heavy—acoustic tile, maybe a section of wall. When he tried to shift, his ribs screamed protest. Broken. At least two.
Something wet and sandpaper-rough dragged across his cheek.
Mew.
Kai's eyes snapped open.
Gumball. Soot-stained, shivering, but alive. The kitten had somehow stayed tucked in his scarf during the fall, tiny body pressed against his chest. Heartbeat hammering like a drum.
"I'm here," Kai rasped.
His good arm came up. Fingers sank into matted fur. The kitten was trembling hard enough that Kai could feel it through his gloves.
He forced himself to move. Shoved the tile off with his good arm, ignoring the fresh lance of white-hot agony through his side. The world swam. Vision grayed at the edges.
Stay conscious. Find the bey. Get out.
His hand scraped across rubble. Glass fragments. Twisted rebar. More concrete dust.
Then—Black Dranzer.
Half-buried in insulation, fusion wheel facing up. The bit-chip was scratched deep enough to expose bare metal underneath. The paint was scorched black in places.
And the cracks—
The original fracture from Kyoya had been a single hairline. Now there was a second, perpendicular to the first. They formed a cross directly over the phoenix emblem.
Kai's breath caught.
One more fight like that and it shatters completely.
But when he closed his fist around it, he felt warmth. Weak but there.
He tucked Black Dranzer into his pocket with more care than he'd shown his own injuries. Pulled Gumball deeper into his scarf, shielding the kitten from the dust-choked air.
Only then did he look up.
***
The rooftop was gone.
They'd fallen at least two stories. Maybe three. Above, a jagged hole revealed churning storm clouds framed by twisted support beams that looked like broken ribs. Emergency lights flickered red through the haze, turning everything into a vision of hell.
Kai cataloged the damage with clinical detachment.
Dislocated shoulder. Cracked ribs. Dozens of cuts from glass and rebar. His body was screaming at him to stop moving.
He kept moving anyway.
Pushed himself to his feet. Swayed. Caught himself against a chunk of concrete that used to be a wall.
Through the dust, he could make out shapes. People. Scattered across the wreckage like broken dolls.
Ten yards away—the big one. Benkei. Hunched over the small one protectively. Kenta. Bull-san's shoulder was bleeding, but he didn't seem to notice. Just kept one massive hand on the kid's head like he could hold the world together through sheer mass.
Kenta was crying. Quietly. Face buried in Benkei's chest.
"Bull-san..." the kid whispered. Voice broken. "I thought—I thought we were gonna—"
"Shut up." Benkei's growl was rougher than usual. "We didn't. That's what matters."
But his hand was shaking.
Near the shattered bleachers—Madoka. On her knees, staring at her hands like she didn't recognize them. Her laptop lay five feet away, casing cracked open like a gutted fish. Screen flickering with corrupted data.
The green-haired one—Kyoya—pulled her to his feet. Zero gentleness. His coat was shredded, face caked in dust, but his eyes were sharp. Searching.
Looking for me, Kai realized. Wants to know if I'm still a threat.
Sharp.
Then there was Gingka.
The protagonist sat in the deepest part of the crater. Legs folded. Storm Pegasus in his lap.
He wasn't checking on his friends. Wasn't looking at his injuries. Just staring at the shattered beyblade in his hands.
Expression completely hollow.
Kai felt nothing looking at him.
Pathetic.
A dry chuckle cut through the settling dust.
***
Doji sat propped against a pile of broken chairs, suit jacket hanging off one shoulder. His glasses were bent at an angle that would've been comical if his eyes weren't gleaming with cold calculation.
Orange juice stained his white shirt like a wound.
"Kai." His voice was clinical. Almost bored. "You got what you came for, I see."
Kai said nothing. Just met his gaze with purple eyes that refused to dim.
Doji adjusted his cracked glasses. Studied Kai like a failed investment.
"Three months of my resources. My training. My infrastructure." A thin smile. "And you walk away the moment you think you're ready."
He pulled a tablet from his pocket. The screen still flickered with power readings. Corrupted now, but fragments remained visible.
"The hubris of youth." Doji's smile didn't reach his eyes. "You'll be crawling back within a month when you realize control isn't the same as mastery."
Kai turned his back. Started walking toward the exit.
"I'll be waiting," Doji called after him. "The door's always open—for the right price."
For a moment, Kai's shoulders tensed.
Kai didn't look back.
"I'm done with you."
Doji watched him disappear into the dust. Adjusted his cracked glasses.
"Stubborn." He pulled out his tablet, tapping through corrupted data. "But stubbornness breaks. Eventually."
He looked at the power readings from the final clash. The energy spike that had exceeded every projection.
"And when it does..." His smile widened. "You'll be far more valuable broken than you ever were whole."
***
The scraping sound made everyone freeze.
A pale, blood-slicked hand clawed over the edge of a shattered floor joist.
Then another.
Ryuga hauled himself into the flickering emergency light like a predator dragging itself out of a grave.
His white coat hung in scorched tatters. Blood ran from his hairline, painting a visceral red mask down one side of his face.
But he didn't stagger.
Didn't even look tired.
He looked fed.
Ryuga rolled his neck. Bones popped like gunshots in the silence.
Kenta's breath caught. "He's—"
"Don't move," Benkei whispered. "Don't make a sound."
His grip on Kenta tightened until the kid whimpered.
Ryuga's eyes swept across the survivors. Dismissed them instantly.
Settled on Gingka.
The protagonist hadn't moved. Still sat in the crater, cradling his broken beyblade.
Ryuga laughed. Low. Genuine.
"Still here?" He stepped closer. Boots crunching on broken concrete. "I thought you'd have run away by now. Or are you waiting for another lesson?"
Gingka's shoulders trembled.
But he didn't respond. Didn't even look up.
Ryuga's smile widened. "Nothing to say? No brave speech about friendship and courage?" He crouched down, bringing his face level with Gingka's. "That's what I thought. The spirit of a blader is delicious, but it doesn't last long once it's been properly broken."
He stood. Turned away dismissively.
And his eyes found Kai.
***
Through the settling dust, crimson eyes met violet.
The air didn't crackle. It died.
Like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the space between them.
Ryuga stood on a collapsed support beam, Lightning L-Drago in his palm.
Blood dripped from his chin. He was smiling.
"Still standing." His voice carried across the wreckage. Manic edge underneath the words. "I was hoping the fall would've broken something important."
Kai said nothing.
Just looked at him with eyes that had gone fully crimson.
The silence stretched.
Ryuga's smile twitched. Widened into something feral.
"Not even going to pretend you're grateful the roof saved you?" He tilted his head. "Because we both know what would've happened if we'd had another thirty seconds."
"You'd be dead."
Kai's voice was flat. Matter-of-fact. Like stating the weather.
Ryuga's laugh manic exploded out of him—delighted.
"THERE IT IS!" He pointed at Kai with L-Drago. "That arrogance! You actually believe it, don't you? That your little bird could cage the Dragon Emperor?"
He took a step forward. The purple aura flickered to life around him—briefly, hungrily—before dying back down.
"Let me teach you something, drifter." His voice dropped to something venomous. "L-Drago fed on your darkness. Every ounce of rage, every drop of bloodlust—it made me stronger. You weren't fighting me. You were feeding me."
Kai's expression didn't change.
"And you still couldn't finish it."
The words landed like a physical blow.
Ryuga's smile froze.
The temperature dropped.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me." Kai's voice was quiet. Heavy. Like gravity itself was speaking. "All that power. All that feeding. And you still needed the roof to collapse to save you from losing."
Silence.
Then Ryuga moved.
Crossed half the distance between them in two steps purple aura exploding outward.
"You want to say that again?!" His voice was a roar. "I'll rip that tongue out and feed it to the Dragon RIGHT NOW!"
Kai didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Just stared at Ryuga with crimson eyes that swallowed light.
"Try it."
The challenge hung in the air.
Doji stepped between them. Hands raised.
"Gentlemen. Please." His voice was tight. "This facility is structurally compromised. If you want to kill each other, do it somewhere that won't bury me in the process."
Ryuga didn't look away from Kai.
Kai didn't look away from Ryuga.
Ten seconds of silence.
Then Ryuga laughed. Sharp like broken-glass sound.
"Battle Bladers." He raised L-Drago to eye level. "No interruptions. No structural failures. No excuses."
His smile was all teeth.
"I'm going to enjoy breaking you."
Kai's hand drifted to his pocket. To Black Dranzer.
"You can try."
"Oh, I won't just try." Ryuga's eyes gleamed violet, manic. "I'm going to make you scream. I'm going to feed L-Drago your darkness until there's nothing left but an empty shell. And when you're on your knees, begging for mercy—"
He leaned forward. Voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried across the wreckage.
"I'll make you watch as the Dragon devours that pathetic bird of yours. Piece. By. Piece."
Kai's eyes didn't change.
But his voice dropped to match Ryuga's whisper.
"Battle Bladers. Finals."
A pause.
"Bring your best. Because next time, the , the dragon burns.
Ryuga's grin widened impossibly.
"There's the monster I was looking for."
He turned his back—supreme arrogance—and walked toward the service tunnels.
Stopped. Didn't look back.
"Don't die before then, drifter. I'd hate to miss the sound you make when you finally break."
Purple lightning crackled.
Then he was gone, swallowed by darkness.
Doji followed without a word. Just one last calculating look at Kai before vanishing into shadow.
***
Silence.
Kai stood there for three full seconds. Fist clenched so hard his gloves creaked.
He turned toward the exit.
"Wait!"
Madoka stumbled forward, ignoring her bleeding knees. She stopped a few feet away, breathless.
Her eyes were red. Not from dust.
"You're just—" Her voice cracked. "You're just leaving? After everything—after—"
She gestured wildly at the wreckage. At Gingka in the crater. At Kenta crying in Benkei's arms.
"Your bey is cracked. You're bleeding. That thing just threatened to kill you and
you're just going to walk away? You're hurt, your Beyblade is cracked, and that kitten—"
Kai looked at her.
Really looked.
She'd known him for months. Watched him train every morning until his hands bled. Seen him destroy opponent after opponent without mercy. Noticed when he disappeared.
And now she'd watched him become something else entirely.
She wasn't angry.
She was terrified.
For him.
"Gumball is fine." Kai's voice came out flat. "Better than your friends."
Madoka flinched like she'd been slapped.
But she didn't back down. Her eyes dropped to his pocket, where Black Dranzer rested.
"I saw the resonance output." Her voice shook. "The energy spikes were erratic. Unstable. Your bey is cracking because the power's exceeding structural limits."
She met his eyes. Raw fear there. Not for herself.
"You're going to burn out. Soon." Her hands clenched into fists. "And when you do, there won't be anything left to save."
For a heartbeat—just one—something flickered in Kai's expression.
Recognition? Doubt?
Then it was gone. Locked behind ice.
"Save your sympathy for them." He gestured vaguely at the shell-shocked group behind her. "They're the ones who need it."
He walked past her toward the exit.
Rain from the hole above caught in his hair. A small, pathetic mewl came from his scarf.
His gloved hand tightened around the kitten. Shielding it from the downpour.
He didn't look back.
***
Madoka stood in the rain. Watching the empty doorway.
She'd seen the crimson eyes. The contempt. The darkness wrapped around him like a second skin.
But she'd also seen the way his hand never left the kitten.
He's still in there. Somewhere.
Behind her—a hand on her shoulder.
Kyoya. Face grim. "Let him go."
"But he's—" Tears streamed down her face, mixing with rain. "I watched him, Kyoya. The whole fight. His eyes turned red. He is destroying himself and he just—"
"I know." Kyoya's voice was flat.
He looked at the doorway where Kai had vanished.
Then at his own reflection in a puddle. Covered in dust and blood. Coat shredded.
I lost to him.
The thought sat in his chest like a stone.
"Is he going to be okay?" Kenta's voice. Small. Broken.
Kyoya was quiet for a long moment.
"No," he said finally. "But broken bones heal stronger."
A pause. His hand drifted to Rock Leone, tucked in his coat.
"At least, that's what I'm betting on."
Rain fell harder. Turning the crater to black glass.
Benkei shifted. Still holding Kenta protectively. "We should get out of here. Building's not stable."
"Yeah." Kyoya didn't move. Just kept staring at the exit.
Processing.
***
Madoka looked down at her laptop.
The screen was cracked. Data corrupted. But one reading was still visible.
Energy Resonance Synchronization: 47%
Two separate bit-beast signatures.
Overlapping.
She stared at it. Not understanding.
Purple and black. Dragon and phoenix.
The energies had mixed during the final collision. Her sensors had caught it for just a fraction of a second before the explosion.
What does that even mean?
She looked up at the hole in the roof. At the storm clouds churning above.
At the space where two forbidden powers had collided.
"Kyoya," she whispered. "I think something happened. During the explosion. The energy readings—"
"Later." His voice was sharp. "We need to move. Now."
He was right. The building groaned around them. But Madoka couldn't shake the image.
Purple bleeding into black.
Black wrapping around purple.
Merging.
What have they done?
***
In the center of the crater—Gingka sat alone.
Rain fell on him. Soaking through his jacket. Turning the dust on his face to mud.
He didn't move.
Just stared at Storm Pegasus.
The fusion wheel was cracked so badly it looked like shattered glass barely held together. The iconic blue paint was scorched black. The weight felt wrong in his hands.
He kept seeing it. Over and over.
The phoenix and the dragon. Tearing each other apart with power he couldn't even comprehend.
The light that swallowed everything.
And him—kneeling in the rubble. Apologizing to his dead father while monsters fought above him.
I trained every day for this.
The thought came unbidden. Bitter.
And I didn't even matter.
He looked at Storm Pegasus. At the cracks running through the fusion wheel like spider webs.
His father's legacy. Shattered.
Because he wasn't strong enough.
"Gingka." Kyoya's voice. Closer now. "We're leaving. Can you walk?"
Gingka didn't respond.
Just closed his fist around Storm Pegasus. Stood slowly.
Kyoya stepped forward, hand extended. "Let me—"
"I'm fine."
The words came out harder than intended.
Kyoya stopped. Hand frozen mid-reach.
Behind him, Madoka took a step forward. "Gingka, please—"
"I said I'm FINE."
The snap in his voice made her flinch.
Kenta's eyes went wide. Benkei's hand tightened on the kid's shoulder.
Gingka walked past them. Didn't meet anyone's eyes.
"Where are you going?" Kenta's voice rose, panicked.
No response. Just boots on gravel.
"Gingka! Wait up!"
He kept walking. Didn't see his friends. Didn't see the building. Just saw violet fire and crimson eyes and the mocking curve of the dragon's grin.
Madoka moved to follow, but a hand caught her shoulder.
Kyoya stood there, face grim. "Let him go."
"But he's hurt! He's not thinking straight—"
"He's thinking clearer than he has in weeks." Kyoya's eyes tracked Gingka's retreating form until it vanished into shadow. "He just realized the world's bigger and darker than he thought."
Kenta looked up, eyes brimming. "Is he going to be okay?"
Kyoya was quiet for a long moment. Rain began to fall harder, washing white dust from the crater and soaking the scorched earth.
"No," Kyoya said finally, voice barely a whisper. "But maybe that's what he needs."
Behind him, Gingka could hear them. His friends.
Calling his name. Asking if he was okay.
He didn't answer.
Couldn't.
Because he wasn't okay.
And he didn't know if he ever would be again.
The rain fell harder.
Gingka walked into it.
Alone.
Storm Pegasus clutched against his chest like a broken promise.
***
Somewhere in the darkness, two broken bladers walked away from the light.
One toward 'Oblivion.'
One toward 'Dominion.'
Neither looked back.
Leaving behind , the witnesses sat in ruins, trying to understand what they'd seen.
Trying to process power that defied everything they thought they knew about Beyblade.
Above, the storm intensified.
Rain washed blood from concrete. Dust from metal. Ash from stone.
But it couldn't wash away what had happened here.
The building groaned one final time.
Then collapsed completely.
Swallowing the arena where two monsters had fought.
Leaving only ruins.
And witnesses who would never forget.
And rain that didn't care
***
[END OF ARC 2]
***
Author's Note:-
Hey, thanks for sticking around this long. Genuinely didn't expect people to care about a guy who got killed by a sentient toaster and ended up in Beyblade hell, but here we are.
I know I said this would cover all of Metal Fusion, but Chapter 16 just felt like the right place to end Arc 2. Sometimes the story tells you where to stop, you know?
Now I need help.
I don't want to write another training montage. We just did 90 days of that in Dark Nebula, and doing it again would be boring as hell. But I also need to get from "everyone's broken and traumatized" to "Battle Bladers actually happens."
So... any ideas?
Seriously, drop a comment if you've got thoughts. Some of my best ideas have come from you guys.
One spoiler for Arc 3: Kai's going to do something nobody sees coming.
Something that breaks everything.
Thanks for reading.