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Chapter Twenty-Five: No Time for Celebrations
Returning to their temporary hotel no longer felt inviting. Today it felt like unfamiliar territory. Tyson hadn't come home. No one had seen him or Kai since the tournament. A day had already passed. No calls. No text messages. Nothing. People had already begun to mourn their disappearance, as if they had both been killed.
The media were already beginning to report Tyson and Kai had died. There was even an hour-long documentary talking about the lives of Kai and Tyson, and their achievements over the years. Social media pages dedicated to Tyson and Kai had appeared all over the internet. Not a single person had come forth to state they believed they were still alive. Only a small number of people who believed they lived remained silent.
Hilary sat cross-legged in the centre of the floor. She bowed her head, and held her hands together before her face, and squeezed her eyes shut. "You made a promise to me, Tyson… You said you would return to me, and I know… I know you're still alive." Tears slipped down her cheeks. "The world might've lost hope… Even Rei, Max and Kenny are losing belief… But I know you're still here. I have to believe you're alive."
She started to sob. For several years now she had been trying to connect with Tyson on a deeper level, hoping to take their friendship into something greater, and when he finally confessed, he jumped into the pit after Kai. If there was a god out there, he or she certainly had a cruel taste in humour.
Drawing in a deep breath, she tried to calm herself down, trying to prevent a new flood of tears from rolling down her cheeks. Only yesterday they had won the battle. Her pillow was wet with her tears. Time healed all wounds, but how could she hope to recover from this? How could she even think about moving on?
"Hilary…"
She wiped her eyes then lifted her head up. Glancing over her left shoulder, she spotted Rei. His expression was sombre. Still no news on Tyson and Kai's fate. He walked towards her then sat down by her side. "I'm sorry, Hilary. I'm so sorry. I visited the police early this morning. Nothing. I called the hospital. Nothing."
Unable to stop herself, Hilary leaned her head against Rei's shoulder, a new flood of tears travelling down her cheeks. So, their bodies hadn't been recovered. There was still hope. She had to cling onto that belief. "…He's still out there, Rei. I just know it. Both Kai and Tyson still live."
Rei held her close. "…Your convictions are strong. I wish my faith was as strong as yours, but I…"
She pulled away and looked at him through tear-filled eyes. "No," she said then shook her head. "No. Don't say it, Rei. He's not dead."
Rei looked away, unsettled. She wanted to lash out at him, to scold him for his lack of faith, but she couldn't find the strength in her to attempt anything. People dealt with grief in different ways after all. They didn't love Tyson the way she did. As for Kai, he'd only show up if he wanted to be found. When he was ready.
"I want to believe Tyson and Kai survived, Hilary, I really do. But we have nothing. We can't go underground where they fell either… The ground has been sealed up. Even if they survived, there'd be no way to get back out."
Always the rational one. Rei didn't let his emotions overrule his logic and rational mind. Sometimes he could be just as blunt and direct as Kai. The words spoken by a man who had lost all hope. Even Max and Kenny were struggling with their faith. They were beginning to believe the media. "We need to have faith. Isn't that what this team is about? Believing in each other and drawing strength from that?"
"Faith can't help us now, Hilary," he said, giving her a blunt expression. "We won the battle, but we lost the war. We believed we were making a difference; that we were saving the world, but we only brought on its destruction. I just wonder… we never should've returned to the playing field. Perhaps then everything would still be the same."
"You can't blame yourself, Rei. No one knew any of this was going to happen. You were only doing what was right – to protect the people of this planet." That's what the Bladebreakers represented. Hope. Even in times of darkness, they were always able to find the light. "Faith is our weapon, Rei. It's what gives us strength. Tyson had faith. Even Kai did. Now more than ever we need to be strong."
"You're a better person than I to believe Tyson and Kai are still alive."
Wiping away the tears again, she shook her head. "Kai was the first person to trust and accept me for who I was, and Tyson captured my heart. I know it might some weird to you, but I know they're alive. I can feel it." Maybe she did sound crazy. After all, how could anyone know for sure someone was alive without knowing their current circumstances?
Rei gave her a brief smile. "I'm glad you stayed with us, Hilary. I don't think we would've survived as a team if you hadn't of been there. I always thought Tyson held us together, but I was wrong – you're the glue that keeps the team united. You never lose hope. I find that admirable." He drew back from her then climbed to his feet. Stretching out a hand towards her, he jerked his head at the door. "Max and Kenny are in the park. We're laying down flowers on Stanley's grave. It's been months since his death."
How time had quickly flown by. It felt like only last week the man had sadly been murdered. She grabbed Rei's hand and helped herself up from the floor. "Then I best not keep the rest of you waiting." He smiled again and guided her out the door.
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Running. Always running. Never hiding. Nowhere to hide. Just run. Run like you have everything to lose, but you can't run forever. Sooner or later the shadows are going to catch up and when they do, they consume you, and poison your mind, heart, and soul. There's nothing you can do to fight the darkness. Soon, you'll just become one of the hollowed. Lost. A shadow of your former self.
Tyson grabbed his right wrist feeling a sharp implosion of pain from the hand that bore the mark of the serpent. Sometimes there'd be no pain at all, but other times it was too much to bear. At first, the pain was restricted to his hand, but now it was spreading throughout his body, almost like a plague sweeping across the land.
He removed the glove concealing the Mark and looked down at it. The serpent head was red. Blistering red. It was akin to a third degree burn except this one hadn't been received from the sun. The Mark of the Leviathan. The Mark of the Beast. It wasn't just a serpent head anymore either. Numbers had appeared, but he couldn't decipher what they were. They were in ancient script and in print no bigger than the smallest fingernail.
Dragoon had mentioned visiting he Guardians in the middle of Australia. They lived at the sacred rock, Uluru, and if he had any hope of purging himself of the Mark, he'd find his answer there. At least, so he hoped. Tyson pulled the glove back on again. He didn't need people asking questions about something he knew little about. He also didn't want to cause any suspicion that he might be dangerous. Some people still held ancient beliefs and seeing something like on his hand would only make them wary about him.
Currently, he was seated in a café in the quiet part of Brisbane City, far away from the main street. Though there were still a few people about, the café wasn't filled. No one recognized him as he was, and no one bothered to ask him. His hand wasn't the only part of him he had covered up. He had taken to wearing a black coat with a hood to hide his face from the public. If the public knew he was still around, they'd ask questions, and that would only waste time.
"I can't believe it… Tyson and Kai dead…"
Tyson lifted his head up from the book he had been reading. It was an interesting original story about a man who had been pushed to the limits. The man had finally snapped in the end and embraced the beast inside before he was defeated by his rival and best friend. Turning his attention away from the book, he looked towards the table three seats away. Two females, who looked suspiciously like Rosette and Bianca, were close by. No sign of Enrique at least.
"I don't understand it… How can they be proclaimed dead if neither body has been found?"
Rosette pushed her blonde locks away from her face and shrugged. "Authorities can't find anything, and no one had seen them in public. Even the teammates haven't heard anything – don't you think if Tyson and Kai were alive that they would've returned to their friends?"
"Maybe they can't. Maybe they're both lost and trapped someplace and they're trying to find a way to escape from the ropes that bind them," Bianca replied. Tyson snorted. That was surprisingly deep from a girl who seemed so empty-headed. Maybe it had all been part of the act to get Enrique to spend money on them. "The authorities are already thinking of ending the search. They didn't find Tyson and Kai's bodies in the explosion."
So, the public believed he was dead. That was nice of them. After everything he had done, the people had given up on hope. He thought they might've at least carried on the search for another month or so. He was supposed to be their Champion, the bringer of light. So much for that. They probably were secretly pleased. The competition would be easier without him in it.
Tyson. You know that's not true.
Dragoon's voice. The only one positive thing the Mark had given him – the ability to communicate with his bitbeast with his mind if the blade was in his possession. Something good had to come out of it. Then why have they given up? I thought I was supposed to be important to them, he thought. You know what I hate the most? The lies. It's only been a day.
The Mark continues to grow stronger already.
He took in a deep breath and exhaled. Brief moments of anger would suddenly flare up then disappear as quickly as they had come. He thought things he normally wouldn't say aloud, and it scared him. He knew it was the Mark's influence. It was growing stronger, its power spreading through his system. How long did he have before he became someone else entirely?
I can feel it burning into my skin, Dragoon. Every waking moment. It's like an itch I can't ever scratch, and it gets worse with each passing day. Sometimes… Sometimes I don't know who I am. Other times I just want to… make people suffer in terrible ways. To make them feel what I'm feeling now. Pain. And it frightens me, Dragoon. I feel like the light at the end of the tunnel is fading the further I pull away.
We're in this together, Tyson. I won't abandon you ever.
His loyal companion and closest friend. If Dragoon wasn't around, then he surely would've fallen by now or be engaged in some reckless behaviour. It was almost as if there was something inside of him just waiting to break free. I'm trying to remain positive. I know we'll find answers, and the sooner we do, the quicker I can return to my friends and rescue Kai. But what if we're too late?
Think of your friends, Tyson. That will give you strength to combat the darkness. Faith is a powerful tool. Never lose track of what you are fighting for.
"Here you go, sir."
Tyson broke out of his thoughts and looked up. The waitress, a young woman with short blonde curls, poured him a glass of water and then laid down the jug of water. He smiled at her and nodded. "Thanks."
The woman smiled at him. "Enjoy your day, sir." She turned her back and walked away from the table, most likely to attend to someone else's needs. These people didn't realize how fortunate they were – heck, most of them probably didn't even realize what was going on in the world around him. For once, he wished he could be just like them then he wouldn't have to worry about the troubles he now faced. What would it be like to be someone no one recognized but select few?
He looked around the room again, this time turning towards the magazine shelf. Beyblading Around the World. Interesting. He stood up and walked over to the shelf and picked it up. He returned to his chair, sat down, and laid the magazine out on the table. Opening the magazine, he turned to the title page and scanned the list.
Beyblading is the world's most popular sport, played by thousands of children and young adults of different backgrounds. Bladers compete in nation and global-wide tournaments in teams for a chance to claim the trophy and earn the prestigious title of world champion. But when did beyblading truly begin? The sport grew in popularity in Japan, but beyblading started many centuries ago even before the births of the ancient civilizations. They were known as the Guardians, and they lived in the shade of the great rock, Uluru, found in the middle of the Australian desert.
Beyblading in ancient days was not played in fancy indoor stadiums, but rather outside on the fields of battle. They did not blade for fame and glory, but for their survival. These battles were life and death – there were no second chances. This history of the sport has been largely ignored by the modern world, but I believe it needs to be taught. We need to understand how the sport evolved into what it is today. The people conjured animal spirits and fought alongside them to protect the mother spirit they call Gaia.
These animal spirits came to be known as bitbeasts and now they live inside our blades. Three historians, Andreas, Thracius and Mesheti have been studying the history of bitbeasts for decades and sorting fiction from fact. For many decades, we have been led to believe that bitbeasts have no minds of their own. We believe they are mindless mythical creatures whom serve our will, but the ancient clans of the old disagree. They believe bitbeasts have free will, and they have been created by a being of a higher power, to act as guardians of humanity.
The article stopped short. Tyson flipped the page searching for more but noticed a page had been ripped out. Naturally. Some people had no class. He turned back to the magazine again, reflecting over words in the article. Uluru. The big red rock in the centre of Australia. That's where he had to go.
He grabbed himself a glass of water, sculled it down then stood up. Lunch could wait another time. Right now, he needed to deal with his growing problem. Ignoring the looks from the waitress, Tyson kept his head down low and exited the building.
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"Go Strata Dragoon!" Daichi exclaimed, thrusting a finger forward. "Climb the mountain!" His beyblade reacted by emitting a faint glow from the bitchip as it raced towards the steepest slope of the Pindus Mountains. After Tyson had claimed the world championship for a third time, Daichi had decided to retreat to the quiet life in the wild, preferring the silence to the hustle and bustle of city life. Besides, he needed to hone his craft if he ever wanted to defeat Tyson.
It was a cloudy day here in the ranges, but Daichi welcomed the challenge. Lightning illuminated the dark clouds as rain bucketed down, quickly turning dry soil into puddles of mud. Most people wouldn't blade in the rain. But Daichi had been training in this sort of wild weather for most of his life. It gave him the edge in battle over most opponents.
"I'm coming for you, Tyson," Daichi said, through clenched teeth, focused on his blade. "Winning the championship didn't mean anything. We did that together, but everyone acts like you did all the work. I need to prove to everyone that I'm a champion in my own right." His blade raced up the mountain and shot up into the sky. It came crashing back down to the earth with enough speed and power, it caused a minor tremor.
A smile spread across his face. He was getting better. Raising a hand in the air, he recalled his blade then tucked it into his back pocket, swapping places with his phone. It was something Tyson's grandpa had given him for Christmas. Daichi was against it at first, but the man claimed it would be nice to keep in touch with reality. He pulled it out and switched it on. Fortunately, there was a signal out here. He scrolled through the headlines.
"Robert Jurgen makes plans to add a cinema to Olympia Dome. Voltaire Hiwatari released from prison on bail. Tyson claims the title of World Champion for the fourth time!" Daichi read aloud. Of course, Tyson would defend his title. He continued to read. More news about Tyson's victory. Then, something interesting. "Tyson and Kai both reported missing since the championship. Police have been searching the area for clues, but nothing has been found. Rumours are circulating both Tyson and Kai are dead."
Wait. What? He almost dropped the phone out of shock. Dead? Tyson? No way. Impossible. The journalists were just trying to dramatize things as usual. Tyson wasn't dead. He didn't care much about Kai's fate – the boy was a jerk anyway – but Tyson had earned his respect. His bitter rival. But also, his greatest friend. He pulled up the contacts menu and scrolled down to Tyson's name. He pressed on it and waited. Nothing. Perhaps his phone had died, or he had gotten a new one? He decided to try Max's number.
"Max?"
"Hello, Max speaking. Who is this?"
"It's me, Daichi!"
Silence then, "Oh hey Daichi!"
Daichi rolled his eyes. Had it really been so long Max couldn't recognize his voice? "I heard the news."
A brief pause then, "It's all over the media here. Where are you?"
"In Greece. Pindus Mountains. Where are you?"
"In Australia, down in Brisbane. We were supposed to return home, but we can't – not until we know what happened to Tyson and Kai. You should be here, Daichi."
Daichi didn't reply immediately. He didn't owe his old teammates anything. Sure, they had fought some tough battles together, but he didn't connect to those guys as well as Tyson had. He was an outsider – why did he have to be there? To do what exactly? "I don't have to be there, Max. I don't owe you anything. I chose to leave on my own terms. We're not teammates anymore."
A pause then, "We might not be teammates anymore, but you're still a friend, and you played a vital role in saving the world once. We've never faced anything like this before, and if we don't control these demons, they're going to spread across the world and then there won't be a world to save anymore. We're at Tyson's place now. Find whatever flight you can because we need you."
Daichi sighed. He did miss the boys and Hilary. Besides, if he wanted to beat Tyson, he had to practice against the best – namely, Tyson's friends. "Fine. I'll book the next flight. We'll find Tyson then I'll kick his ass for making us all worry." Max chuckled. "You better be ready Max, because you'll be my first opponent."
"I look forward to it." Max hung up on the phone and Daichi put his one away. Raising his hand towards him, he opened his palm to recall Strata Dragoon. He looked down. "We're needed Strata Dragoon. What say you and I go on another adventure again?" In response, the bitchip glowed.
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"Thank you, thank you!" Julia said, thanking the fans for dropping by to watch the performance. Crowd numbers had jumped dramatically since their performance at the previous beyblade tournament. Before the fame, they'd be lucky to sell just a third of their tickets. Now they were sold out within a few days.
"We'll be signing autographs and taking photos at the blue tent near the entrance at three this afternoon. Hope to see you all there!" Raul said, waving farewells at the crowd. The crowd dispersed. Romero their old friend and coach came over to congratulate them. As usual, there was a big smile across his face.
"You two did great," he enthused. "Now come on – let's have a coffee at the café. We've got some things to discuss." Julia and Raul exchanged excited glances – what could Romero be referring to? It's not like they had any major events on their schedules to perform at. They followed him towards a quaint little café in the far north of the venue called 'The Rose'. Julia wasn't quite sure why it was called that since there were no roses in sight.
She sat down in one of the white wooden chairs next to her brother. Romero sat opposite. "So, what's happening?" Julia said, helping herself to the jar of water. She picked it up and poured herself some water then placed it back down again. "I don't think we're due to perform at any major events in the next few months?"
"Your services are required elsewhere," Romero said.
"What is it then? Come on, Romero, tell us," Raul said, placing his hands on the table.
"I don't suppose you've had a chance to watch the news recently?" The twins exchanged glances, and both shook their heads. "I thought as much. Tyson and his friends won the title again in Australia, but tragedy has struck. I don't know all the finer details yet, but Tyson and Kai are both missing, and a lot of people have died. The stadium collapsed. People were buried alive."
"And how exactly can we help?" Julia said.
"Supporting our friends. We may not have been close with Tyson and Kai like the others were, but us beybladers support each other. I have already organized our flights to Australia, and we will be leaving this afternoon."
Raul arched a brow. "That soon?"
Romero nodded. "Yes. There's nothing else for us here. So, head on home and pack your essentials."
Julia grinned, then looked at her brother. "Hey, you'll finally meet your princess, Raul." It was no secret Raul had a crush on Mathilda – she had caught him writing a post card to her. The redness in his face had been priceless. Even now, there was a hint of a blush appearing on his cheeks.
"You earned yourself a lot of male admirers, Julia," Raul retorted, his ears reddening as he tried to change the topic. "Maybe one of those Blitzkrieg Boys suits your fancy. You like the tough guys."
The Blitzkrieg Boys? Yeah right, she thought. "I prefer someone a little more challenging. Besides, those guys are so shady. They're like the type of people you would jump you in a dark alleyway." What did they do in their spare time? Practice tough guy impressions? Pose? Snarl? Steal candy from babies?
"I think you and Tala would make a perfect pair. No wait! You and Bryan for sure."
Julia decked her brother. He pulled back to avoid her hand and laughed in her face. Her younger brother had certainly grown quite bold since their display last year. Normally, he didn't dare try and mess with her. "Shut up, Raul. You know I'm way out of their league." Okay. So, they might've lost to Tala and Kai but surely on a good day they could equal them.
Romero cleared his throat. "As entertaining as it is watching you two argue, we are there on business – not for holiday purposes. Something serious has happened. Something bad. We should be serious."
"Of course, Romero," Raul said.
"Do we know anything else? How do two bladers… Well known ones, simply go missing like that? Surely, they would've checked out the area and searched for the fallen?" Julia inquired.
"The match was broadcast on sports television. There were bitbeasts I had never seen before. Demonic. Evil. There was something amiss about that tournament. I wish we had gotten there earlier, but all the hotels had been booked around fast." Romero frowned, rubbing his chin, looking thoughtful. "But I am glad we chose not to compete in the tournament."
Julia had been annoyed they had missed out on a spot because they didn't have a full team to compete with, but not competing had seemingly saved them from disaster. "Those poor people…" Innocent lives lost all because they had wanted to watch their favourite bladers compete.
"I thought BEGA had taken things too far last year," Raul murmured. "No one had died though surprisingly." Julia remembered. Brooklyn had lost his mind and used the power of his bitbeast to create havoc. Even the army had gotten involved. "But this is something else," Raul added.
Romero stood up. "I need to make a few calls, but I will see you later at the apartment. A cab will pick us up and take us to the airport. Just make sure you have everything and leave nothing of necessity behind. We could be gone for some time." He handed Julia some cash to pay the costs of his meal then walked away.
Julia frowned, watching their coach leave. How much did Romero know? "You heard him. We need to pack." Raul remained quiet, lost in his thoughts. What awaited them in the future?