Jointly written with brave kid

Set just after the events of Spiral Core, before the Star arrives.

This is in no way related to my previous cross-over, To Learn Their Ways – if you like, it takes place in a separate cross-over universe.

Prologue – A Midsummer Night's Dream

The night it happened, Gingka had stayed awake to talk to his dad, who was over on the other side of the world in America, via video call.

"So as you can see, the WBBA is getting stronger and stronger all the time," Ryo said, his eyes gleaming with plans and ideas. "It won't be long before we can hold another Championship."

"Yeah," Gingka said softly. "That'd be good. Get all the bladers back together again."

His father must have caught something in his voice. "Gingka, are you alright?"

"Yes, of course," he said immediately, making an effort to brighten his tone. "When should we start thinking about where the preliminary battles are going to be held?"

Ryo ignored him. "Are you going to be up to entering?"

Gingka couldn't think of an answer to that. It had been a month since the events on the floating city, and gradually the nightmares of just how close he had come to losing himself both against Faust and the Spiral Core itself were beginning to fade. Pegasus was as strong as ever, if not stronger – Madoka had just finished repairing him once more after the damage he had taken from the Spiral Core - but blading just didn't have the same feel to it as it once had. There was a distance between him and Pegasus, a gulf that Gingka didn't know how to cross. He'd tried to reconnect with the bright constellation, but nothing had come of it. Pegasus still obeyed him. In fact, he obeyed even more so now than he had before the battle against Spiral Core. But it was almost mechanical now when they battled, rather than the most exciting thing in his life.

The only one he trusted with the secret was Tsubasa. The Eagle blader, older and more experienced than Gingka, had suggested that it could be something similar to what had happened with the dark power from L-Drago, and its effect on Tsubasa himself. He had spoken of days when he had dreaded having to train or battle anyone because he just couldn't connect with Eagle. Slowly, the darkness had replaced that connection, and it was only when he came out the other side of the dark power that his closeness with his constellation had been repaired.

But the darkness was long gone, swallowed up by Tsubasa's determination to win, and yet Gingka was still fighting. So it couldn't be that.

"Gingka?"

Gingka suddenly realised that he hadn't answered his father's question. "What?"

Ryo sighed. "Are you going to enter the Championship?"

"I-I don't know," Gingka said at last. "I want to battle properly again but... I thought that we'd made the WBBA stronger so that things like Dark Nebula and Spiral Core couldn't appear. What if it happens again?"

"You will rise to the challenge," his father answered, eyes serious. "You are my son, and you are a blader of Koma Village. No matter what comes your way, you will master it."

Gingka nodded. "I guess so," he agreed, though privately he knew he was lying. "Anyway, if that was everything, it's nearly midnight here, so I need to get to sleep."

"Oh yeah," said Ryo ruefully. "I forgot about the time difference. I was wondering why you had the curtains drawn. Good night, then, Gingka. Sleep well."

"Good night, Dad," Gingka answered softly, and closed the connection.

For a moment or two, he stayed exactly where he was. He just wasn't sure he could live up to his dad's expectations. He felt fragile, like a fine wire being held taut by two great weights that might at any moment become too much and snap him in an instant. It wasn't a nice feeling, as if he was constantly on edge, waiting for some great catastrophe to happen.

He certainly wasn't the only one to have nightmares recently. Madoka said it was because of the massive amounts of energy that Spiral Core had released, charging the atmosphere with electricity and static. It had even been reported on the news that more people were going to psychiatrists because of recurring nightmares than in recorded history. The whole world felt tense and wrong somehow, so much so that some days if Gingka stood still outside for too long, his skin began to prickle as if reacting to the extraordinary tension in the air. He was distracted too easily, mind skittering over problems and thoughts like a pond skater over still waters, part of him not really wanting to delve into the depths of his own mind. After all, he wasn't sure what he'd find there any more.

Gingka stretched out, lying flat on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Normally, he had the answers. Normally, he had the brilliant ideas, the correct path. Now, everything was blurred and he hated it. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift, hoping that maybe tonight the storm of electricity that cloaked the globe would allow him one night's peace.

It was not to be. The digital clock on his bedside table showed the minutes oozing past, and still his mind spun in fuzzy circles that crackled with static and darkness. It was choking in his room, too hot, too much for his exhausted mind to manage...

The universe screamed.

It was only for a split second, and afterwards Gingka would wonder if he had dreamt it as he sat bolt upright. But it was real, and it was loud, and it was heart-breaking.

As the phantom ringing in his ears died away, Gingka realised that something else was happening. Outside his window, a light was growing, slowly and steadily. The curtains were letting more and more brilliance through, and beneath the brilliance Gingka thought he could hear something... something singing. Could it be dawn already? Had he really been lying there for that long?

But the light outside his window was not the sun. It was blueish, pale, and getting brighter as he watched. Heart pounding, throat dry, he yanked the curtains open and stared in utter astonishment at the sight before him.

Diving straight towards him was an enormous blue dragon, easily the size of L-Drago, its long, snake-like body shining. There was no aggression in the large, jewel-like eyes; just a deep and unimaginable sadness. The sound that Gingka had heard was rolling before it in great waves, so wonderful and so sad that Gingka felt tears glisten in the corners of his eyes.

The dragon was singing.

"Wh-what?" Gingka stammered as the dragon reached the window and passed straight through. The coils of the blue form filled the entire room, and his head turned until he could stare straight into Gingka's eyes.

Gingka.

The voice throbbed through his body, and Gingka took an automatic step backwards, away from those terribly sad eyes.

Gingka.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

Gingka.

The dragon stretched out his long neck and touched his nose to Gingka's chest, which suddenly crackled with pain. But before he could cry out, the dragon pressed a bit harder, and Gingka completely blacked out.

.

When he opened his eyes, he was lying, shaking on the floor of his bedroom. There was no sign of the huge dragon, and the only thing that suggested that something had happened was that the curtains were open. What on earth could that have been?

Right, here is the promised brand-new cross-over! I have no idea when I'll be updating, as Real Life keeps getting in the way and I have essays again, but rest assured that, just like To Learn Their Ways, this is completely planned out. I just have to write the long-form version. Enjoy!