Bakugan Battle Brawlers belongs to Sega Toys and Spin Masters

The Doom Dimension.

A wasteland that stretched towards places unknown, with dull, stony terrain and dry air, eternally subjected to dark, clouded skies and vicious lightning storms. The only change one could find in its dead scenery was the occasional corpses of Bakugans, once vibrant and vivid, much like stars, now laid desperate and discarded, having their final moments frozen forever in time as some sort of cruel mockery.

If Vestroia was to be considered a magnificent constellation, full of life and power all over its six dimensions, then the Doom Dimension was nothing short of a black hole, expanding and consuming everything in their path.

Those who fell into the Doom Dimension were destined to never leave. It was scripted into the very nature of Bakugan. Once you reached the Doom Dimension, you were fated to perished.

Vladitor, however, refused to abide to such fate.

He could not answer as to how long had he been wandering, neither could he tell how many times he tried to flee, only to have his hopes crushed. Of course, he stopped counting a long time ago. Having to spend the rest of your days on an endless limbo tended to do that. He could only tell that he was wandering, alone and barring insanity.

He could not say that he had completely abandoned his drive, else he would stop this hopeless peregrination and join the dead around him, but more and more did his desires seem farther and farther from fulfillment. It seemed that he persisted more out of a phantom feeling of hatred towards the ones who banished him than an actual desire for escape.

He knew, better than anyone, that there was no hope for those like him. And so, lost within his thoughts, he persisted on as some sort of errand phantom. A mere shell.

It was because of this that, when the earth suddenly shook and the thunderstorms increased in intensity, he became somewhat surprised. A place meant to be eternally still wasn't supposed to have events like this.

But then, the sky opened, overwhelmed with negative energy pouring out from the fissures amongst the dark clouds. Vladitor braced himself, waiting for what surely would be his end.

Just as quickly as it started, it was gone. Leaving the wasteland in complete silence.

Slowly opening his eyes, Vladitor looked skyward in confusion, to the raging storm still ongoing. Amongst the darkened sky and vicious lightning, a portal stood, wavering in its own energy. At first, he merely stood, frozen, reaching out shakily, almost as if in fear that the gateway would close at any moment. When the portal didn't disappear, Vladitor let out a short, breathy laugh that soon escalated to a full on cackle.

Finally, he had a chance to escape.

Never looking behind, he jumped into the portal, abandoning his prison to his path towards freedom.

Norrkoping, Sweden.

A bustling city, being one of the most important industrial and commercial centers in Sweden. With one of the biggest ports in the country, together with most of the textile industry. It was often called "the Manchester of Sweden" for a reason.

To Erik Olsson, however, it was the most boring place one could ever find the bad luck of being in.

It had been nearly a month since he abandoned Bakugan brawling all together, and he barely had anything to do ever since. This probably had to do with the fact that it was the worldwide fever of his generation, meaning that even when he actively tried to avoid it, it ended up finding him one way or another.

Some of the other kids still recognized him if he managed to bypass them, some of them even bold enough to taunt him or challenge him to a brawl. Those cases ended up with him bruising his knuckles and the poor victim clutching their bruised face or, in worst case scenario, their broken nose.

He couldn't say he forgot how it was like in his glory days: Erik Olsson, the top brawler of Sweden. It was just that a chain of events led him to lose the love he once had for Bakugan. He just couldn't see the appeal of it anymore.

Because of this, he was perfectly content on finding little things to pass the time in order to fill the empty space, like mask-making and walking with his dog. Sure, they didn't erase his newfound bitterness over the game, or having the privilege of having to see the face of the dastard who caused the whole mess in the first place almost every day. But alas, what is a moody teenager to do. At least he was moving to Japan soon due to his mom's job transfer.

Of course, life took a single look at Erik's attempts at making a mature decision and move on with his life and decided that no, that just wouldn't do.

It was his last day under the Swedish summer, with weather leaning less on bone-freezing cold and the sun shining brightly despite the very-much nighttime of 7 PM. Ergo, the perfect day to use the excuse of walking the dog and promptly bolting from the responsibility of organizing the rest of the boxes of his room.

Laika trotted happily at the front, held by the well-secured leash around her neck, occasionally stopping to pee at a pole or greet another dog passing down the street, tongue hung at the side of her mouth as she panted to her heart's content. Erik followed close behind, one hand holding the leash tightly and the other in his pocket, chuckling at his dog's goofy behavior. The walk continued like this, the peaceful atmosphere easily numbing his mind into a comfortably foggy state.

Because of that, he nearly jumped out of his skin when Laika suddenly stopped, barking fiercely at the sky:

"Laika!" he tugged at her leash "Calm down, girl! Seriously, what wrong-"

Something shot past him, missing him by a hair, in a burst of light. He immediately froze, gingerly looking around. There was no one in that particular street. Just his luck:

"W-who's there!?" he called, fearing the worst.

No one answered, but Laika kept barking, setting off every sort of alarm in his head. He knew that, if push came to shove, he could defend himself, and Laika, sweet, protective Laika, never forgot her days as a hunting dog. None of that made him less nervous, though.

A groan came out from behind him, and Erik quickly turned around to the source of the sound, putting Laika behind him as best as he could. Looking around, he saw no one, and the sound of his rapid heartbeat was now thundering in his ears. He was ready to run away when:

"You." an echoey voice rang "Where am I?"

This time, Erik did jump in surprise:

"Who's there!" He shouted "Answer me!"

"Settle down."

The voice came from below him, and so, Erik looked downwards. There was a small crater on the concrete and, in the middle of it, a black Bakugan stood:

"You make too much noise."

By the time he returned home, it was well past 9 PM, even though the sun still shone through outside. It was a battle for the Bakugan to calm him down, without counting Laika trying to chomp the little toy down. Now, it sat at one of the boxes in the kitchen while Erik finished to pour Laika water, who drank vividly:

"Let me get this straight." He said "You are a Bakugan that was banished to the Doom Dimension and sort of wandered there through eons."

"That is correct." The Bakugan answered.

"And, through some sort of weird miracle, you were only now able to escape?"

"Precisely."

"...That is... quite hard to believe, buddy." He paused "I mean, don't Bakugan that go to the Doom Dimension die?"

"Only those with weak will, something I do not have."

Erik gulped, a sour expression on his face:

"So... what do you plan on doing now?" he asked tentatively, making his way to the stairs.

"I will get revenge."

Erik paused mid-step in order to stare at the Bakugan, then shook his head and continued to go upstairs.

"On who?"

"Those who wronged me." it floated up to Erik's face "The six warriors of old, who trapped me in that wretched place."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" he inquired, opening the door to his room "You're not exactly going to be able to do much on Earth, especially alone."

"That is why you will help me."

Erik's eyes widened as he shot up and backed away from the Bakugan:

"Whoa, back up. What did you say?"

"Didn't you say Bakugan partake in 'brawls' with the aid of humans?" it asked "So then, you shall be my partner."

"Sorry, but no." he ran a hand through his hair "I stopped brawling, and don't pretend to return. Besides, you gave me absolutely no reason I should help you."

"Who said our partnership would only benefit me?" it said "Only a fool makes a proposal with advantages only to his side."

"Really, now?" his tone turned sarcastic "Do tell, what will I gain from this exchange?"

"My power, and my aid." it once again floated to stand face to face with Erik "Just as you will help me on Earth and in battle, so will I attend to whatever wish you have. Don't you want justice against someone in particular?"

Erik stared at it, pensive, then offered a palm for the Bakugan to sit on:

"Actually," he started "I never really got your name."

"I'm Darkus Vladitor."

He looked at one of the recently-made masks he had yet to put away. It was a half-faced mask, white with some red details and a curved, horizontal slit for the eye. He picked it up, turning it over, and smiled.

"Vladitor, huh?" he said "There actually is someone I'd like to... settle scores with."

Although surprised, his mother didn't question his sudden wish to go to the park in order to brawl one last time, neither she questioned much about his outfit, only asking to change it before they had to go to the airport.

And so, it was child's play to find the circle of kids, who included his ex-best friend, and ask for a match against the jerk. Kids, being kids, didn't find anything weird about that and easily abided, with his victim bearing an overconfident smirk before the both them started the brawl.

The match was over before it even began.

Vladitor, true to his word, was ruthlessly powerful in battle, and equally as vicious. With him by Erik's side, there wasn't even a chance for the other boy to fight.

Erik glared at the kneeling form of the boy who he despised so much, and turned on his hell, striding away confidently. The other kids parted like the Red Sea, all staring in awe and shock. He was almost at the entrance of the park when he heard:

"Who are you, anyway?" A girl asked, voice shaky.

He smirked, turning just so that the sunlight hit the mask he placed at the right side of his face:

"I'm Marduk." He answered "And I will be the strongest brawler the world has ever seen."

Just an intermission made in order to take a breather and better organize the story.

Sidenote:

Me: Marduk's mask is probably something he bought somewhere

My dumbass artist brain: But what if he made it, tho?

Me: The kid's, like, 12. That'd be impossible.

My brain, once again: Yeah, but... what if he made it?