The Opal 'Blades: A Beyblade story by 'beybladeboy'

Chapter One

The air was thick with static and would have choked anyone that passed through it who wasn't determined to proceed. The sky was dark save for the occasionally bolt of lightning that lit the cloud-filled sky up as if it was day for a fraction of a second. The thunder rolled across the sky, completing the atmosphere of mystery and dread. It was not a good night for anyone to be out; the rain had been battering down on the ground constantly for near-on fifteen minutes. But there was one individual making their way through the valley; a sixteen year old teenager with thick dark hair with a blue baseball cap wedged over it. His jacket was dark red; his jeans blue. His look was completed with a pair of red trainers with a white dash along each side. His name was Tyson and he was looking for his friends.

'I know you're here!' he bellowed, his mouth twisted in angst and his brow furrowed. His left hand was stuck firmly in his left pocket, holding tightly onto his beyblade. There was no reply to his statement so he just continued to walk, the soil of the valley floor quickly turning to mud and consuming his shoes. Tyson's walk quickly became laboured and heavy and it took an inordinate amount of energy just to get him further down the pathway.

Tyson glanced up to the trees that lined the top of the valley. Each one looked like a figure with huge sprawling arms and frowning eyes. The lightning would strike behind them and make them seem to move toward him. A shiver ran down his spine and to the back of his legs but he shook this sensation off; he had to be strong for himself and for his friends. Tyson was already cold anyway as the rain battered down on his shoulders and ran cold down his back; his hair was losing its rigidity and flopping down in front of his face. A swift movement of his spare arm pushed it back over his forehead but it did little good. He just continued walking through the muddy valley, pulling his feet up sharply and muttering under his breath hoping that whoever he was coming to meet would show themselves sooner rather than later. Tyson's body began going into autopilot as he walked and soon his mind drifted back to how he'd ended up in this situation. It had all began on the previous day at about ten in the morning. It had been sunny and the air crisp; he had been happy.

Tyson, dressed in his usual clothes which shimmered in the sunlight, was seen by everyone to be catapulting through the streets with a wide smile on his face. He had just won a beyblade battle with one of the many challengers that roamed the streets and he felt good about it. He wanted to find one of his friends to boast about the battle and felt that Kenny would be the perfect one to sit opposite him, amazed by the tale of battle. 'Who wouldn't want to hear about my exploits?' Tyson questioned to himself, still buzzing from the battle.

It wasn't long before Tyson reached Kenny's home and was knocking on the door. He stood back and looked up at the second floor window before his gaze returned to the front door. There was no response so he tapped again only this time it was louder and heavier. There was still no reply. Tyson dropped down from the doorstep and made his way around the building looking for any sign of life but, aside from the odd bird fluttering about in the trees, there was very little movement. Even the wind had dropped. In fact, Tyson noticed a peculiar chill in the air that, in his excitement, he hadn't spotted. He shivered as he walked around to the back door, pulling his jacket up to his neck in the hope of warding off the cold.

Tyson knocked on the back door but, again, there was no response. He tried the handle and found the door to be open so, slowly, he pushed the door and entered the kitchen.

'Kenny?' he asked, his voice rising into a question as he sneaked a look around the kitchen for a sign of anyone though feeling apprehensive about entering the house. There was still no reply so Tyson slipped further into the kitchen, closing the door as he did so, and passed into the hall. The house was eerily quiet and a repeat of 'Kenny' still failed to elicit any type of response. Tyson was puzzled; he hadn't heard from Kenny in a couple of days and it was so unlike him to go somewhere without telling Tyson. Tyson made it his mission to know the movement of his friends but now felt mysteriously cut off from his friendship circle. He began to climb the stairs.

Pushing open Kenny's bedroom door, having already knocked and spoken and come to the conclusion it was empty, Tyson looked concerned. It was an unusual situation for someone to find themselves in, looking for a friend only to find their house open and empty. Tyson entered the room and let out a gasp at what he saw. The usual tidiness of his room had been abandoned for a mess of stacked papers, open drawers and a hastily made bed. It looked as if some sort of mini-tornado had entered the room, sucked up all of Kenny's belongings and deposited them at random points in the room. Tyson removed his cap and scratched his head with his other hand as if this action would bring some sort of answer into his head. He just looked around and tried to make sense of the situation, but there was none. At least one thing did pop into his head as he walked carefully by the bed to see the drawers of Kenny's desk opened and rifled.

'Dizzi!' he muttered under his breath, glancing around the room and trying to spot Kenny's valuable laptop. 'Maybe it's in his hiding place.'

Kenny had told Tyson several weeks earlier that he'd created a secret hide-hole for his laptop after receiving a strange letter through the post. Inside the crisp white envelope had been a neatly hand-written letter advising Kenny that he could sell his laptop – and all the knowledge it contained – for a considerable sum of money to the stranger mentioned at the end of the letter, referred to only as 'X'. Kenny had naturally refused – his laptop, with bit-beast Dizzi inside, was not only a piece of hardware but a friend. A good friend. He had promptly crumpled up the letter in front of Tyson and thrown it half-heartedly into the nearest waste bin. Kenny had thought no more about the letter, only for a second – and third – to be delivered in subsequent days, each one written in harsher language and messier handwriting. This had caused him to go to drastic lengths to save his laptop from any thefts and create a secret hide-hole for it which only him, and Tyson, knew about.

Tyson dropped to his knees in the bedroom and crawled along the floor, his hands moving over the carpet in front of him until the tips of his fingers came across a slight ridge under the carpet. Tyson pushed down on this and there was a subtle electronic bleep which triggered off movement in the wall of the room. Tyson lifted himself to his feet, brushed down his trousers, and walked casually over to one of the walls where a small recess had opened up. His heart racing, Tyson pushed his hand into the hole and his fingers came across the cold metal of Kenny's laptop; a smile of relief passed across his face – his eyes closing momentarily. Tyson removed the laptop from the hole and, as he did, the recess sealed. Whoever had entered the room had failed to find the laptop and therefore failed to discover the data held within its microchips.

Tyson gently lowered himself onto the edge of Kenny's bed, not making much impact on the already untidy duvet, and carefully opened up the laptop. It booted into life and Dizzi's voice filled the air.

'Tyson!' she exclaimed, her voice shrill. 'Your hands are cold.'

Tyson rolled his eyes, biting his lip as he did so to prevent him from replying in a harsh way. He let himself pause for a few moments to come up with an answer.

'Nice to see you too Dizzi. Now what's happened here? Where's Kenny?'

'I don't know,' she replied flatly, her voice somewhat deflated. 'I think he's been kidnapped.'

'You know nothing of what happened here?' he asked, once more glancing around the disturbed room. 'You must have heard something.'

'All I know is that late yesterday, Kenny and I were in here discussing some fresh data when there was a noise from downstairs. Kenny went to investigate – I think he only went as far as the upstairs landing – before rushing in and, without explanation, promptly activated the secret compartment and thrust me into the hole.'

Tyson nodded.

'I felt it was very rude of him. He just closed me up without a word and put me in that cold hole with not even a 'goodnight'.'

If Dizzi had been a human sitting next to Tyson he felt she would now be sulking with her arms crossed and her face in a pout.

'But did you hear anything after that?'

'Well there's not much else to do trapped in a dark compartment but listen.'

Tyson was growing impatient.

'Come on Dizzi. This could be important. What happened?'

'Well,' she said, her voice becoming more and more petulant as the syllables left the laptop speakers, 'I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and then cross into this room. Kenny was shouting at whoever it was, telling them to get out and leave him alone. I think he mentioned something about selling something but I can't be sure. It was all very muffled. Plus I couldn't help thinking how cold I was and how I was miserable and…'

'OK,' Tyson blurted out in an attempt to stem the tide of self-pitying words, 'What happened next?'

Dizzi didn't reply for a few moments; her sulk was getting worse and Tyson was not helping by being less than sympathetic to her cause. She did reply though in time.

'Well there was a scuffle and some shouting and then it all went silent. The footsteps went away and then returned about five minutes later. I can't tell how long as it was dark and I was disorientated and…' Dizzi spotted the frown on Tyson's face and returned to the main thread of her story. 'There was then a lot of noise as drawers were opened and objects moved. I could hear them squeaking on the floor. The figure even came near to the compartment; I could hear their breath on the wall. But they obviously didn't find what he was looking for; the footsteps went away and didn't return. Then the next thing I know you arrive.'

'Thanks Dizzi.'

'Now could you put me on charge? I'm running low here.'

'Sure,' Tyson said, smiling. He went over to a drawer and pulled out a charger. But before he could initiate the charging process, Dizzi said one more thing to him.

'Oh yes,' she said, as if adding a 'PS' to a letter. 'Whoever did come into the room was extremely powerful. I could feel their energy even in the compartment. Even I could feel the static, and I'm a laptop.'

Tyson's brow furrowed once more and the cogs in his brain began ticking over. A really powerful being? He didn't like the sound of that. And it was that statement that would shortly lead him into the muddy, wet and spooky valley that would bring about a conclusion that, at the point of charging up Dizzi, Tyson could not possibly have imagined…

To be continued…

Chapter Two

By now the rain was beating heavily down onto Tyson and the mud around his feet was getting thicker and thicker with each step. His hair, which usually stood proud and erect from his scalp, was reduced to a damp mess of dark strands that distorted his vision and clouded his judgement. His clothes were heavy and stuck to his body and his boots felt like two weights attached awkwardly to his feet that didn't respond to the chemical triggers in his head.

'Must… continue…' he mumbled to himself in the hope that the physical saying of the words would spur his body on further, but the mud and rain and thick atmosphere were proving a lot for the young Beyblader. There was only one thing spurring him on to continue and that was the power of friendship. Tyson hated to admit it to himself but he valued his friends. Though he often came across as brash, deep down he admired his friends and was grateful for their companionship. Now they were gone there was a gaping hole in his being. Tyson realised he had to get them back at any cost; they would be counting on him.

The last day or so was speeding through Tyson's head as he continued through the valley. From Kevin's house, having secured the laptop into his jacket pocket, Tyson has sped to the houses of his other friends for help. Firstly he had headed to Kai's house but he wasn't there. In one way Tyson was happy at this – he didn't really want to admit weakness to his greatest rival – but in another he feared rightly that Kai had also been captured by the same kidnapper that had snared Kevin. Visits to Max and Ray's houses had also proven unfruitful with no one answering his frantic knocks on their subsequent doors. Tyson had found himself stood in the shadow of Ray's house with his mind buzzing with questions and angst etched into his face. The void inside him was growing and the magnitude of the situation was also coming home. Tyson realised he now had a responsibility to face; a responsibility to find out who had taken his friends and why they had done this.

It was Dizzi that had helped him on the right track. She had led him from Ray's house, through the town and down towards the trees. Dizzi was following the huge amounts of energy that lined the main street, wrapped around each lamppost and stamped into every piece of street furniture. The static was incredible, distorting Dizzi's voice and causing her laptop screen to crackle and fuzz. Tyson tried his best to rectify this but even he was feeling the effects of the energy field. His hair crackled and his clothes built up an inordinate amount of static which discharged on his skin, much to Tyson's annoyance. Dizzi reassured him that everything would work out fine though as they walked Tyson could tell from the slight hollowness in her voice that even Dizzi was unsure that the outcome would be what they both hoped.

As they walked the sky darkened; thick clouds were moving swiftly across the sky, interlocking with clouds from the opposite direction and merging to form a swirling body of dark ominous matter. The first few drops of rain darkened the floor of the village which was slowly changing from tarmac and stone to mud and sticks. By the time Tyson had reached the edge of the trees the rain was already battering down and turning the stable wood floor into a bog-like mass of mud and water. Tyson's immaculate clothing was quickly becoming filthy and his appearance less than perfect. Even Dizzi complained about the weather, mumbling something about getting water in her circuits. The complaint wasn't too loud though; even as a computer she knew it wasn't the time or the place; she knew that having a moaning bit-beast was not going to help Tyson with whatever he had to do next.

Both man and bit-beast were hoping that the walking would end. Tyson had had it up to his head with the mud (though luckily it wasn't up to his head) and just wanted some resolution to the situation, though one wasn't forthcoming as the rain stepped up a gear as a fierce wind whipped up, blowing rain into his face and making his failing vision even poorer. Even Dizzi was having trouble getting her bearings of where exactly they were; the static was constantly building to a tremendous level which was reducing her effectiveness. Tyson was equally as troubled by it; his hair was now suffering from a mixture of static and water, a combination he wasn't happy with.

A fork of lightning hit the ground not much further ahead of the pair in the valley. Tyson swallowed hard but it stuck in his throat; his stomach was doing summersaults. He hadn't felt this nervous since he'd played his first ever Beyblade battle. Or tried to ask Akemi out for a pizza when he'd been at school. But the situation now was much more than a game or young love; this was real life and there was more to this than winning a Beyblade or accompanying the prettiest girl of the year to the nearest restaurant. Tyson's friends were missing and he knew he was the only answer to the mystery. At least he had Dizzi with him in the dark though he would have felt more confident if Dizzi was actually with him in person – a presence he could physically see and hold – and not just in the laptop but it was something he had to cope with. Cope with whether he liked it or not.

As the wind continued to howl around Tyson's ankles and the rain continued to batter at his face, he knew he had little choice but to continue, but at least it wasn't for much longer. He was distracted from his course through the muddy valley by the sound of the thunder getting closer and closer; and then the lightning struck. In what was only a matter of half a second, a large bolt of lightning had descended from the heavens and struck one of the trees at the top of the valley, sending it rolling down the muddy slope and having it land only feet away from Tyson. He stumbled back in shock, dropping Kenny's laptop to the ground. Dizzi let out an exclamation of disgust as her home was coated in thick sludge. Tyson lifted himself from the ground, dusted himself off as best as he could, and retrieved the laptop from the floor below, saying sorry to Dusty as he did so. But he didn't have much time to get the few words of apology out; a figure had appeared before him.

It was difficult for Tyson to describe the figure even to himself. The electrical signals that passed from his eyes to his brains failed to grasp the shape ahead. Maybe it was the driving wind or rain that was forcing his eyeballs to remain half open; maybe it was exhaustion from the long walk; or maybe it was the immense static that was now bubbling all around, making the hair on Tyson's arms stand on end. It certainly wasn't fright causing that; well, at least that's what he was telling himself.

The figure, dressed in a dark black cloak and with a slight hunch, made the first move, seeming to float over the mud and up to the other side of the fallen tree. Tyson swallowed and prepared himself both mentally and physically, adopting a ninja style position that his granddad had taught him. How he wished he could just summon up the power of Dragoon to defeat the figure but for some reason his arms were frozen and would not move no matter how hard he tried to make them. All Tyson could do was watch the figure slowly creep up to him, its face concealed by a dark hood. It let out a menacing laugh, like some sort of stereotypical villain.

'W-who are you,' Tyson stuttered, feeling angry that he'd shown a sign of fear. But he was full of fear; he was in a dark valley with a thunderstorm happening overhead, his body being battered by the elements, static and fear, with nothing but an old tree trunk and a laptop stood between him and whatever it was that was now facing him. The figure didn't reply straight away, instead it floating majestically over the branch and up to Tyson. The static now was unbearable and Dizzi had decided enough was enough, temporarily shutting the laptop down to avoid the painful feeling that was hitting it. She would have joked that she was now truly Dizzi, but the situation did not call for any humour. Jokes were the last thing on Tyson's mind, though the figure he was facing seemed to be getting some humour from the situation as it let out another maniacal laugh. Then it spoke.

'You must be Tyson. I've heard a lot about you.'

'Really?' Tyson asked, his voice continuing to waver. 'I can't say the same about you.'

The figure laughed again.

'That's because no one has ever got to know me. Not that they would want to.'

'I want to get to know you,' Tyson said, the feeling beginning to return to his limbs, bringing with it his traditional bull-headedness. 'I want to know what possessed you to kidnap my friends.'

The figure laughed once more. Then he laughed again. He was finding something funny.

'Your friends. I kidnapped them because they refused to give in. I suppose that comes with the territory. You Beybladers are all the same. Full of yourself and all stubborn as mules. You should have heard the words coming from the three tall ones! But the kid with the glasses was the best; refusing to give me his laptop. He paid the price for his stubbornness, though I see you've kindly achieved what I didn't and got the laptop to me. Clearly Beyblading doesn't require much intelligence.'

It was now Tyson's turn to let out a sound, but it wasn't a laugh but a growl of anger.

'The only one without intelligence here is you.'

'And how do you figure that out little man?'

'Because you're picked a fight with me.'

'Picking a fight. With you. I could crush you with my fist. No. I'm here to challenge you fairly. To a Beyblade battle.'

Tyson suddenly felt overconfident. The figure had dragged him all the way out here to a muddy valley to challenge him to a Beyblade fight. Was he mad? Did he not realise how good Tyson had got recently?

'A Beyblade battle?' Tyson scoffed, his bubbling confidence once more returning. 'Is that it?'

'Well sort of,' the figure said in an off-hand manner. 'Except it is going to be a battle with one big difference.'

The figure began to gesture with his arms at the surrounding area. Tyson was puzzled by this: all he could see was the usual mud and trees that his eyes had been looking at for the past twenty minutes. There was nothing new.

'One thing you seem not to have noticed is what you are standing in. If you actually got a hair cut you could probably see better. You're standing in a rather large stadium. See the sloping slides that go all the way around? Imagine the trees were people rather than plants watching you prepare yourself. Welcome to the world's largest Beyblade stadium.'

'And…?' Tyson asked sarcastically. 'Am I supposed to be impressed?'

'Yes.' The figure said bluntly.

'Well I'm not. Though I would be impressed if you could give me my friends back.'

'Certainly. You'll be seeing your friends any moment. You see, you need something to go with the world's largest Beyblade stadium and that's the world's largest Beyblade… or make that three…'

Tyson was about to question the man's last statement but after only a few seconds he realised he didn't need to. The answer started off as a quiet rumbling which soon escalated into what Tyson could only describe as a mini-earthquake causing the 'stadium' to shake violently from side to side, almost throwing him off his feet and down to the muddy floor. It was a wonder that, with the escalating ferocity of the storm, that Tyson didn't lose his footing. It was only through a sense of determination that he didn't. He grit his teeth and stood firm, the laptop thrust underneath his arm; but his exterior calm belied an inner sense of panic which was only heightened when an object appeared, seen only in the corner of his eye, making Tyson jerk his head around. He could not believe what he was seeing.

Spinning at him from the top of the valley was the largest Beyblade he'd ever seen. His mind began calculating how big it actually was; it eventually settled on comparing it to the size of a large monster truck tyre except more metallic and spinning at a far faster rate, catapulting down into the valley and spinning violently around Tyson. The other man had taken advantage of Tyson's awe at the giant Beyblade to flee the scene to watch the action from high above.

Aside from the size, the giant Beyblade was the perfect replica of an ordinary 'blade. Tyson momentarily mused on the size of the rip-cord needed to have launched it but figured there would have been an alternative way of setting it off. He didn't have long to consider the logistics of the launch as the Beyblade was spinning precariously near him. Then it got worse. Another two entered the giant stadium from opposite sides, spinning round and round Tyson and, most worryingly, bouncing off each other and ricocheting in unpredictable and random directions. Tyson realised that being in the middle of a giant Beyblade battle was not the best place to be. He looked up at the figure on high who he now saw was smirking.

'Get yourself out of this one,' he laughed viciously, 'or join your friends. Good luck my friend. Good luck!'

Tyson looked away, down to the laptop and across to the Beyblades and swallowed hard. For one of the only times in his life he was speechless. He needed a way out but a plan was not forthcoming…

To be continued…