Chapter Four: The End is Nigh
Tendrils encircled his body, curling around him like a snake suffocating its prey. One tendril wrapped around his neck like a noose, tightening its hold until he started to gasp for air. He reached his hands to the nothingness before him, as if he could grab hold of something to wield as a weapon. But nothing came to his aid.
"Hello?" He called out into the darkness, hearing his own voice repeat several times over. His heart race quickened, an icy shudder running down his spine. "Is anyone else here?"
No other response other than his own voice repeating the words back, but it was enough to drive the tendrils back. Frowning, he took a few steps forward, keeping one hand resting on his bey launcher. A dream. It had to be a dream. The real world didn't look like this. Everywhere was dark like the black of night. As he moved forward, he felt invisible tendrils wrap around his legs, but they did not hinder his movements.
Come closer.
He brought a free hand to his chest, feeling the frenzied thumping of his heart. A dream, but it felt real. Something crawled down his back. He spun around on his heels, and raised his blade and launcher, ready to attack but there was nothing. Only blackness. Chest muscles tightening, he stopped moving, daring not to move.
"Hello?" he said. Someone had spoken, yet he could not see anyone. He looked to his left and right, but all he could see was blackness. What if it was coming from above? Craning his neck back, he observed the 'sky'. Nothing but blackness either. Perhaps he was finally going mad after all these years.
Let me get a look at you… Stand still. Hmmm… You're not the one. One of them, yes, but not the right one.
Someone was speaking to him, getting inside his head. A vision? He hadn't experienced one of those since the second world tournament. Why would they be starting up again? A warning of things to come?
"Who are you? Why are you in my head?" Ozuma called out, his mouth dry.
I thought the Champion might be able to hear me… but it appears not. Never mind. But you can. You can help me.
"I don't even know what you are!"
How about now?
Ozuma examined his surroundings. Still nothing but blackness. He wasn't sure what he was even supposed to be looking for. A human? A talking animal? A bitbeast? Or something else entirely? What would the Elders think? Would they see it as a sign of madness?
A cold wave poured through his body as if a bucket of ice had been poured over his head. It started from his head then made its way down to his feet. He shuddered. That's when he saw it. A pair of eyes looking down at him. Reptilian in shape with orbs a shade of gold, and large. One eye was the size of a single human. It wasn't the eyes that caught his attention – it was the teeth. Two rows of dagger-like teeth on the bottom, designed to tear and cut, and two on the top. He was reminded of a shark.
His eyes widened. "What… What are you?"
The creature seemed to smile if one could even call it that. For centuries, I have been locked away because they thought of me as dangerous. Who is 'they'? The four sacred bitbeasts. That should sound familiar to you.
Driger, Dranzer, Draciel and Dragoon. The four most powerful creatures to ever appear in a beyblade match. A couple of years ago he had tried to seal them away, believing them to be evil, but Tyson and his friends proved him wrong. They were able to show they could be trusted with the four sacred bitbeasts. But this creature seemed to think otherwise.
"What do you want from me? Why do you appear to me in a dream?"
The creature laughed. Well, at least that's what Ozuma thought it was. It was a deep thundering sound that revibrated throughout whatever place he was in. You're one of the rare people that can hear me. Someone that receives visions.
"I haven't received any visions for a long time."
That's because they come from me. You failed me, Ozuma, so I turned my attention towards someone else. A child prodigy… but he too failed in the end. But, you're all that I have so I must persist with you. Tell them all – the beast will return. The end is nigh. Can you do that for me?
Ozuma frowned. The creature was serious about it despite the playful tone in his voice. "Why… Why would I want to do that?" He was a messenger for some dark reptile that appeared to him in dreams? That wasn't comforting.
Because you'll die if you don't.
Before Ozuma could make sense of what was just said, the creature opened its mouth and lunged. He couldn't move his legs. The tendrils held onto him, keeping him in place. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Only death awaited him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he braced himself for a swift end. The creature's jaws descended on him. He screamed.
.
"The world is still in shock over the unexpected death of Stanley Dickinson," Rei read aloud, glancing down at the big bold headline on today's paper. There was a picture of the man smiling in the photo beneath the title as well as a long report over the details of his murder. There was even a few paragraphs about the man's life outside beyblading. Disgusted, he put the paper down. "They speak of him as if they truly cared."
"People are shocked, Rei. It's not every day you hear of a big name being gunned down in your hometown," Max replied form the seat across the table. They were currently visiting one of the quieter cafes in town. "It's been a few days and I still can't get over it. All I can think of is 'why?' Why Mr. Dickinson? What did he ever do that made someone want to end his life?"
Rei shrugged. "Your guess is as a good as mine – I don't know."
"You think the tournament will even go ahead?"
Without Stanley at the top, how could the event even begin? Stanley was the brains behind it all. Who else would step up and take the role of chairmen? Would anyone even be willing after what happened to Stanley? "This could be the end of the BBA. Stepping into Stanley's role would just feel unsafe." What was once the most coveted job in the world was now the one no one wanted.
Max grabbed the paper and flipped it over. "I don't want to hear about it anymore. It's too depressing to be reminded of his death every hour of the day." He looked up. "How are things with you, Rei?"
"Same as always, Max. It's always weird to return to a normal life after tournament season ends." It was hard. Every time he visited the children in the parks, he was reminded of his biggest battles. It made him wish he hadn't publicly come forth with his retirement but staying made no sense. What else did he have to prove? "How are you coping? Have you found love?"
Max shook his head. "No. What about you?"
"You're thinking of Mariah, aren't you?"
Max nodded. "I always thought you too were close. I remember in the first tournament Mariah waited by your bedside after you were injured during the match against Bryan. It was hard to get her out of the room."
Rei withheld a chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds like Mariah." His smile faltered. "You know, everyone back in the village always thought Mariah and I would someday become husband and wife. I know her grandfather wants us to marry as well." He wasn't quite sure where those thoughts came from since he didn't harbour any romantic feelings for the girl. Why was it that people misconstrued friendliness as a sign of romance?
"But you don't love her, do you?"
"Mariah's a nice girl with a golden heart, but I don't love her, and I never have. She's like a sister to me – not a lover." He glanced down where his beyblade was and sighed. Beyblading had always been his number one love. The only girl that had ever come close to capturing his heart was Salima, but she was long gone. The girl probably didn't even blade anymore.
"What about that other girl, Salima? You seemed to have a thing for her," Max pointed out.
"I don't know what happened to her."
Max frowned. "You never exchanged numbers or anything?"
"We were a little too preoccupied at the time." A long pause then, "I hope she's well. Maybe if the stars align, I'll see her again. Maybe when things eventually return to normal… But our lives are anything but normal now. Have you ever wondered what life would be like if we hadn't become famous bladers?"
Max brought a hand to his chin and rubbed it, looking thoughtful. "I've never really thought hard about it, but I suppose I'd be helping my dad run the hobby store. I was never particularly good at all the science stuff my mum was interested in. What about you? What do you think you'd be doing now if you weren't a blader?"
"A chef," he answered. "Didn't have much of a chance to cook in my village, but when I left home, I visited my uncle. He taught me the basics of cooking and thought I'd make a fine chef one day. Of course, that didn't turn out, but I love to cook when I get the chance. I was actually thinking of starting my own business." Which had seemed like a good idea up until the mysterious assassination of Mr. Dickinson.
"But you're thinking against it now because of recent events."
He nodded. "Yeah. It seems too much of a risk to take right now."
The waitress arrived a few moments later carrying two iced chocolates. One had a cream on it, and the other without. Max took the one with the cream on it and started scooping it with his spoon. Rei watched him eat, feeling a bit sick to the stomach, watching devour the cream, as if it was the last edible item on the planet. It took Max several seconds to finish off the cream, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his right hand to remove the last traces of it, looking somewhat guilty.
"That was fast."
Max flashed him a toothy grin. "It's the food of champions."
Rei chuckled. "You know I'm glad that we still have a chance to hang out together. I kinda missed that when I was with the White Tigers."
"Same here. The All Starz are good friends, but there was just… something missing." He lifted his glass and brought the rim to his lips, arched his neck back a little and skulled down half of his drink. Either Max had been thirsty, or he really liked iced chocolates. Once done, he pushed it to the centre of the table. "With the Bladebreakers, I feel like I'm at my best. I don't know what it is but representing the Bladebreakers makes me want to fight harder."
"Like giving it a thousand percent instead of one hundred percent, right?"
Max nodded. "Yeah."
Rei reached for his iced chocolate but didn't even manage to touch the glass when a beyblade hit the table with enough force that Max's glass fell over the side and onto the floor. Glass shattered everywhere. Several seated customers glanced in their direction. "What the heck?" The anonymous blade sped away from the table, speeding down the street. He then looked down at Max. "Are you all right?"
Max nodded, stretching out his arms in front of him, checking for any signs of damage. No cuts at least. He rose to his feet, hand dropping to his right pocket where his blade was kept. Several people came forward to investigate. "Stay back," Max warned, his arms raised. "I'm okay. But stay inside."
Rei looked towards the waitress. Her eyes were wide. "Listen, you need to get everyone inside where it's safe. Call the police and don't come outside until they arrive, all right? Can you do that?" She nodded. "I know you're afraid, but you have to be strong." She nodded again. Satisfied, Rei turned back to Max.
"Is Draciel ready for some action?"
"He's always ready."
Rei pulled out his blade, and dug his free hand into his opposite pocket, pulling out his ripcord and launcher. He loaded his blade, took aim at the café's roof then yanked back on the cord, sending forth his blade into the air. Driger landed on the roof and spun around in a circle waiting for its next command. Draciel landed on the ground. "Let's go."
Breaking into a jog, Rei and Max followed Draciel through the streets. Fortunately, this part of town was quiet and there weren't too many obstacles in their path. They turned a corner into a deserted alleyway. Empty cans of cheap food and wine bottles littered the ground. There was even graffiti on the walls though Rei couldn't quite make out what the words were supposed to read. Draciel sped down the alleyway joined by Driger, smashing cans and wine bottles. The blades parted ways at the end, searching the eastern and western paths.
Rei and Max came to a halt. "I think we've lost them," Max exclaimed, bending over, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.
"We're being watched."
Max straightened. "You don't think whoever was behind Stanley's murder is after us as well?"
"Unless they just wanted our attention. Maybe they wanted us to see something though I don't know what it could be." He searched the alleyway, looking for a clue that would explain why they had been led down here, but all he could see was bottles and cans. No paper notes stuck to the walls nor anything on the ground. A mystery.
Max looked at the graffiti on the wall. The letters were in blue and white with a black outline, but the font was hard to decipher. Also, Rei found the colours quite distracting, making it harder for him to make out what the letters were trying to say. Max tilted his head to the side, his brows furrowed. "The end is nigh," he read, as both Driger and Draciel returned.
"How can you read that?"
"Rick came from the streets. He told me all about graffiti writing."
So, the burly blader had his uses after all. "The end is nigh. What is that supposed to mean?"
Max pulled his gaze away and looked at Rei, troubled. "I think we should visit Tyson. Kenny might be around, and he could help us understand it better." He dug a hand into his other pocket and pulled out his took, taking a quick snapshot of the writing. "Let's go."
.
Life at the PBB HQ was always busy. Even post-tournament, the employers never had a day's rest. Researchers would work overtime to ensure their tasks were done. Now that they were the biggest company in the world, the expectations and demands were unreasonably high. Researchers were developing new beyblades that would allow blades to endure more damage, so their match-time was increased. With beyblading continuing to grow in popularity globally, fans wanted matches to be longer so they could get their money's worth. Beyblading wasn't an amateur sport anymore – it was a money-making industry, and everyone wanted to be a part of it.
Judy helped herself to a cup of strong coffee as she settled on the chair before her computer. Douglas was still the leader of the company, but the man had put her in charge of leading the projects. At first, she was pleased, but now it had become a nightmare. People were always coming to her with their issues ranging from technical problems and even their personal issues.
A young female scientist with a deep shade of red hair burst through the door. "Judy! We have a problem in C14! One of the computers has experienced a technical fault!"
"Tell the IT department to fix it," Judy replied.
"But Judy, they-"
Judy bit her lip. "That's their problem. I don't care how long it takes – just tell them to fix it."
The young woman nodded and turned around, sprinting towards the IT office. This was what her life had become – a life of chaos and madness, and her stress levels were now at an all-time high. Not an hour went by without some form of interruption. Taking in another sip of her coffee, Judy brought up her email and scanned the list of the unread.
"Spam. Spam. Spam. Wedding invitation. More spam. Funeral… Urgent?"
She frowned. The sender was anonymous. How odd. It wasn't often she received urgent message. Last one she had received had been over three months ago and was about a meeting with some blading associations. Judy clicked on the message.
Dear Ms Tate,
It is with utmost pleasure that I invite you to a special dinner to be held at Taste the Aroma this weekend. Please respond as soon as possible so I can finalize the details of your pick-up.
Sincerely, Anonymous
Judy closed the message. Her email address was known to the public since she was the face of the company, but this was still unexpected. Someone was inviting her to dinner at the French restaurant, Bardo Brasserie. Someone who wanted to impress her, but why? Why so soon, and why now? So many questions raced through her mind, yet she had no answers.
She didn't have time to have a social life with her busy work life. It had gotten to point that it was hard to even reply to a text message from her son and ex-husband without some sort of interruption. Perhaps this was a sign she needed to take some time off, but how would the company cope without her?
"Ms Tate?"
The young female scientist had returned. Startled, Judy jumped in her chair. "What's the problem, Lucinda?"
"The computer was infected with a virus. Our virus protection expired about a week ago. It can be easily resolved if you renew the contract for another year."
She rubbed her temples. Of course. "I shall do that immediately."
Lucinda didn't move. She looked at Judy, her hazel eyes fixed on her face. "When was the last time you had a decent night's rest?"
Great. So, she had black bags beneath her eyes now. What a great look for the company. "I'm perfectly fine."
"You need a break, Ms Tate."
She shook her head. "We have much work that needs to be done."
"We can manage. Your health must come first. If you're unwell, nothing will be achieved." The girl raised a fine point. She looked at the screen again. Accepting that offer was becoming more tempting with each passing moment. It had been years since she had attended a fine dining restaurant. "Um, Ms Tate?"
Judy blinked, and glanced up at the girl again. "I might take your advice after all. I have a meeting to attend to this weekend."
"Well, when I said take some time off, I actually meant do nothing related to work, Ms Tate."
"I'm going to a dinner."
"Oh, that's great! With whom if I may ask?"
"A former work colleague," Judy replied. Why cause concern with her workers by saying she didn't know the person? "It's been awhile since I've caught up with my old friends," she added, hoping she sounded convincing enough. It must've worked because Lucinda smiled and nodded.
"That's wonderful news, Ms. Tate."
"Do have any other news to report?"
Before the woman could speak another word, they were interrupted by yelling from downstairs. Without sparing another thought, Judy switched the screen on her computer off. She surged to her feet and sprinted to the floor below, her high heels clacking against the ground.
There were five floors in the PBB HQ. Top floor was basically her house and the All Stars sleeping quarters, the fourth floor dedicated for research, the third floor was the dining area and kitchens, the fourth floor was training facilities and the bottom floor was for storage only. Each floor was fully furnished and air conditioned.
She touched the bottom step then-tumbled forward, arms flailing wildly, to keep her balance.
"Ms Tate!" Lucinda rushed forward and grabbed Judy before a disaster could happen.
Crisis averted. Judy's heart pounded as if she had run a marathon. "Goodness!" Then she looked down and noticed her heel was crooked. How had that happened? She bent down and removed her shoe. "…And they told me these heels were of good quality," she muttered.
Fortunately, for her sake, no one seemed to notice her embarrassment.
"I didn't touch your shitty laptop!" Michael protested.
Emily stood opposite to him, her brows furrowed in irritation, her fingers curled into fists. Her face was red, and the girl even trembled with rage. "Then why isn't it turning on?!"
"Shouldn't you know the answer to that question? I thought you were the self-proclaimed brains of the team. You work it out," Michael snapped. "But I definitely didn't touch your laptop because I wasn't home all day yesterday, so the culprit you are looking for can't be me!"
They were both one step away from turning this into the dramatic fight of the century. Just what Judy needed. World War Three in the heart of the PBB Complex. Why could they not just work together? If only they both put that same amount of passion and energy into blading, they'd be a force to be reckoned with.
"Well, I'm sorry then," Emily said, folding her arms.
Michael scowled. "That's what you say now, but you'll point the finger at me next time this happens because that's what you do. Haven't you got anything better to do? Oh right, I forgot, you don't have any friends. No one wants to befriend a bore like you."
Things were getting heated. An intervention had to happen before someone said something, they would later regret. "Michael. Emily. Enough," Judy said, stepping in between the two before another word could be said. "I will talk to both of you in my office now."
Michael rolled his eyes, and Emily turned her nose up. Fortunately, both had enough sense to know to remain quiet.
"I will clean up at the mess at once," Lucinda said. An excuse to get away quickly.
"Office. Now," Judy ordered.
Michael and Emily glowered at each other but did as they were told and started heading up towards the office. With a sigh, Judy followed them up the stairs, wondering if there'd ever be a day of peace.
.
"Ozuma!"
He was sitting on his bed, his hands gripping the white sheets, his face ashen white. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, and he was breathing in deeply, almost as if he had been sprinting. Mariam rushed to his side. She placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, startled.
"It's just me, Mariam. What's gotten into you?"
"Just… a dream," he said slowly. "A dream."
She waved a hand in his face, concerned. The last time she had seen him like this was when he was just a young boy of eight years old. That had been the first time he first received a vision about capturing the sacred bitbeasts and sealing them up for eternity. It was that vision alone that motivated him into becoming a blader.
"You look like you've seen a ghost." Try as she might, sensitivity wasn't her thing. In moments like these, a better person than herself would check on her friend to see if he was all right. But that wasn't her style. Being the only female in her tribe taught her to be tough and show no feelings if she wanted to be respected by the men. "Seriously. You're as white as the sheets you are holding. That must've been one heck of a dream."
He released the sheets then looked at her. She saw fear and uncertainty in his eyes. "I need to speak with the Elders." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and picked himself up then started making his way towards the doorway.
Mariam wasn't having any of that. No way did Ozuma walk out of this room without explaining what was on his mind first. She stepped in front of his path, folded her arms across her chest, and glared. "What's going on? Why do you need to speak with the Elders?"
He drew in a deep breath then sighed. "I can't tell you, Mariam."
"And why not? We're teammates, Ozuma. We made a promise we'd tell each other everything."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're going to play that card on me? We've been through everything together, Ozuma." She stabbed him in the chest. "We followed you blindly in your quest to seal the sacred bitbeasts. We believed in you despite you giving us no reason to. We're not just teammates, Ozuma. We're more than just friends. We are of the same tribe and that makes us family. Families don't keep secrets. So, you tell me what's bothering you right now, or I will get Dunga in here to sing until you can't take it anymore," she threatened.
The scary thing about that is Dunga would sing and recite bad poetry until the desired goal was achieved. Dunga might've looked big and tough, but deep down he was just a big softie.
Ozuma raised both his eyebrows. At least the colour in his face was returning now. "You're not serious?"
She nodded. "You know as well as I do Dunga will do everything I say." She had power over him, and the man was eager to please. Her brother often teased him about having a crush on Mariam, and that's why he was so willing to carry out her demands, but Mariam wasn't so sure. But then again, she wasn't the brightest when it came to matters of the heart. Such things were unimportant in her quest to become a strong blader.
Ozuma sighed. "It's happening again. Visions of a future."
"What did you see?"
"This beast… some overgrown reptile. Said the end was nigh. Mentioned the four sacred bitbeasts."
One of those visions. Visions the Elders didn't agree with but did nothing to discourage him. It was because of these visions they had become bladers in the first place. It was so they could be strong enough to seal the bitbeasts up. "They're not evil, Ozuma. We've been down that road again, and I don't really want to repeat that."
"This creature thinks they're bad… He said he was locked up."
"And you believe that?
Ozuma frowned. "I don't know what to believe. That's why I want to speak with the Elders. Maybe they might know something about this… dream of mine." Mariam tilted her head, studying his features closely. He was still somewhat pale, but the colour was returning to his face. Ozuma wasn't disturbed by much, but this recent dream of his had shaken him. "I've never seen a creature like that before. It must be a bitbeast. I don't see what else it could be."
"And it's talking to you specifically?"
He nodded. "He said I was one of the rare few people who could hear his thoughts."
"People who receive visions of the future then. That makes you and…"
"Brooklyn."
Right. She knew the name. An attractive boy with psychopathic tendencies. Why was it always the good-looking ones that were batshit insane? "Yeah, I remember him. He almost destroyed the world last year."
"I need to find him. Maybe… maybe he knows more about this. Maybe he's been seeing the same thing himself, but we need to speak with the Elders first. We can't leave without their permission."
They could, but Ozuma didn't like breaking the rules. The Elders lived in a remote village somewhere near the base of the Swiss Alps. According to Ozuma, leaving without permission would anger them and it would result in losing their place among the Saint Shields tribe. Mariam personally didn't care. They were living in modern times now. Besides, she wasn't a young girl anymore. The Elders had no power over her, but she didn't dare go against Ozuma's wishes.
"All right. We'll look for the Elders later in the week. We're going to have to stop by the city first. Joseph and Dunga are buying doughnuts. He told me they'd be waiting near Oliver's café," she said. In other words, Majestics territory. The rich team of uptight bladers who were wealthy enough have their own beystadium. "You think we'll get a chance to see the infamous Majestics roaming around the streets?"
"Why? Did you want their autograph?"
She snorted, rolling her eyes. "No, I just want to see if they are as good as the fans claim them to be." She turned around and headed out into the hallway. "Come on slowpoke. Let's get moving. Leaving Dunga and my brother alone in the city for a few hours could be disastrous." Knowing Dunga, he'd probably create scene in public.
"Lead the way, Mariam."