The Majestics
Chapter One
The two-inch heels of white boots resounded loudly as they trekked the empty halls leading to the arena of the Olympia Stadium.
Oliver Les Desmond was anxious; he couldn't help it. It was the first time in several long weeks that his beyblade was going to go against another since it was fitted with the Heavy Metal System. His team captain thought it was best for each of them to train separately, so as to fully master the workings of the new technology.
According to Robert's extensive calculations, combined with the power they'd be able to draw from their partnership with their bitbeasts, the Majestics' new HMS blades would be an unstoppable force.
It was a guaranteed, surefire win, but Oliver still couldn't ignore the lingering feeling of uncertainty in his chest.
In his weeks of solitary training, he had experience that overwhelming power from his modified blade. It took a gargantuan deal of effort to tame it, and much more to have control over it. The new system needed a radically new fighting style that the Frenchman had a hard time adjusting to. Even after he had perfected all his new attacks and more, he knew that the incredible amount of power his Unicolyon HS showed was barely a smidgen of a fraction of its true potential.
That was what they, as the Euro team, were going to test that afternoon.
Oliver walked in the desolate arena. The only lights that were on were the ones directly above the huge dish at the centre. The stands and the booths were empty; seats receded into the darkness. No one else besides the four of them was there.
"Oliver, you're here."
The usually melodious voice of the Jurgen heir now sounded tired from exhaustion and lack of sleep. The thoughtful greenette frowned and perked up.
Enrique and Johnny had taken their positions on either side of the German and across each other. Their somewhat haggard appearance portrayed the tremendous effort they had to exert to master and conquer their own blades.
There was no exchange of hellos, no lame cajoles and familiar smiles. The driving obsession to win the World Championships made the blonde and the redhead neglect themselves.
The boyish glints in their eyes vanished into deep liquid orbs, colored like the elements they guarded.
Johnny and Enrique seemingly grew up in a short span of time.
All in all, the change was frightening.
"Could I get a look at Unicolyon and check his stats?" requested Robert.
Oliver nonchalantly handed the blade over. Amphi and Sala had already been examined earlier along with Grif. The four showed an astounding 400 increase in attack and defense.
"Well done, boys," remarked the Majestics team captain with hints of a smile on his face as he rose from where he was seated. "Now for the final test run before we call ourselves World Champs. Shall we?"
The other aristocrats grinned at the statement before attaching their blades to their shooters with a merry click.
The young greenette could tell his loyal bitbeast was fidgeting restlessly. There was a chorus of 'three, two, one' followed by the sound of winders being pulled.
--
"Hello? HELLO?! There is a fire, I repeat, a FIRE in the Jurgen Mansion! PLEASE come over and hurry!" spoke Gustav clearly and calmly into the telephone's receiver.
Within minutes, sirens of both ambulances and fire trucks rang out in the Leipzig countryside. Helicopters hovered warily over a huge black cloud that issued from the now-wrecked and roofless Olympia Dome.
Gustav caught sight of the building after ushering the last of the servants out and his eyes bulged out of their sockets.
"My god! What happened?!" he asked a nearby paramedic who was supervising the evacuation of a wounded elderly couple living in a townhouse in the vicinity. Their residence also caught fire.
"The Olympia Stadium exploded, sir," the other man answered. "The impact affected neighboring estates."
True, the Jurgen Mansion fire began when something akin to the force of an airplane crashing hit the power house.
"What?!" the butler was genuinely shocked. "Exploded how?"
"We have yet to know, sir," explained the paramedic. "Luckily few live around here or else things would have turned nasty."
Gustav suddenly had difficulty swallowing. "Were there people in the stadium?"
He knew the answer well, but did they?
"We still can't get in, sir. The entrances have caved in and some or our men are trying to enter through the busted roof."
Even before the medic finished, the elderly man had set off for the dangerous site at an energetic sprint.
"Sorry, sir, you can't cross this line," said a policeman sternly as Gustav tried to jump the yellow tape.
"No!" he struggled. "I have to get in there!"
"Sir!" a pyrotechnic called to the policeman from beside one of the blocked entrances. "We're ready!"
"Go ahead," ordered the other man with a lazy wave of his hand.
Soon enough, there was a loud boom and the paramedics had ground access at last. Gustav distractedly watched them enter for a few moments before remembering his purpose.
"Please let me through!" he begged the policeman. "My godson is in there!"
The crowd of authorities who were in hearing range turned about to look at him. They knew perfectly well who he was talking about and acquired a sort of solemn air in sympathy.
"We've got casualties!" a voice called quite inopportunely from the smoking mess within the dome.
"How many?" called back a supervising medic.
"Four, sir."
A parade of men in white uniforms emerged from the hole they made wheeling covered stretchers. Firemen followed their wake.
"Are there any more?" inquired the police chief.
"We've searched and the building was empty." answered a crew member.
"Will someone please tell me if those four are dead or not?!" The elderly and ignored butler was near to losing it.
"We're really sorry, sir," said a paramedic. "As of now we cannot say. If it would make you feel better, you can join the police when we take these boys to the hospital."
"Sir!" a young fireman called to the party. He was last to leave the building and the cry made heads turn. "I've found something!"
The police chief glanced inside the bag then briefly handed it to Gustav with a sorry look. At first he didn't understand till he tipped the contents onto his hand.
Four HMS beyblades, the very same ones he had seen Robert stay up late for, stood innocuous and gleaming in then obscure sun. They were perfectly unharmed. Every conveniently small and lightweight inch was till intact, except...
...the bitbeasts had disappeared from their chips.
"No..." Gustav breathed, as if doing that could reverse everything. He turned to look at the four stretchers, each bearing a limp lump concealed by a pathetic white sheet, now being hoisted into separate ambulances.
--
What happened?
The last thing he remembered was pulling the rip cord with all his might, excitedly anticipating the moment when his beyblade would land...
The collision was so indescribably intense that it threw him off his feet and sent him crashing landing to the stands.
Pain had seared throughout his battered body, starting from the back, which he believed was already broken. Then he saw a white light and blacked out.
Perhaps right now would be a good time to open his eyes.
"AAAAARRRRRRGH!!!"
Enrique Giancarlo Tornatore had made the stupid mistake of sitting up while he was at it.
"ENRIQUE!" a chorus of voices exclaimed.
Summer blue eyes welled up in pain as his best friend's face swam into view.
"Oh Enri," said Oliver. "Lie down! The doctor said you shouldn't move your back yet. It's still recovering from the operation." With that, the young Frenchman helped settle the blonde comfortably on raised pillows.
Seeing that the other's condition was no worse that his, Enrique deduced that he and the greenette were on two hospital beds fused together.
"Where are we?" he managed to ask.
"We're in the hospital," answered Robert. He and Johnny were across the room, huddled on two similarly fused beds, caught in the middle of flipping TV channels.
"Hospital?" repeated the confused Italian. "Why?"
"I don't know myself," replied Oliver. "All of us just woke up today it seems. The nurse said Gustav has yet to visit."
And he was right. Within moments, the door to their room flew open, revealing a teary-eyed butler.
"Boys!"
"Gustav!"
TBC
A/N: My hands hurt from the cold...xPP ...enjoy!xD and ciAo...