CLAAAAANG!
The stadium trembled as the two Beyblades collided, sparks exploding across the track. The crowd erupted—
"YEAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"
But amidst the cheers, one voice rose above them.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"
Axamu's scream ripped through the air. His body folded forward, his face pale, his hand clutching his stomach. Blood trickled from his mouth, dripping onto the concrete.
The audience gasped in shock.
"H-he's bleeding?!"
"From what?"
"Did he collapse from nerves?"
Even the announcer faltered, microphone shaking. "Wh-what's happening to Blader Axamu?! He's… he's bleeding during the match!"
His opponent froze, eyes wide. "Bleeding? How the hell…? We've barely even started!"
But Axamu knew.
Every collision.
Every strike.
Every hit his Beyblade took—he felt it. A savage bruise bloomed across his stomach with each clash, like invisible fists slamming into his flesh. His insides churned with pain, his vision shaking.
Why… why is this happening to me?!
Another impact—
CLAAAANG!
His body jolted, his knees buckling, his voice tearing out of him.
"GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
Blood spattered the ground again.
The crowd shifted from excitement to unease, murmurs filling the stadium.
"Does he have some kind of illness?"
"No… it looks worse. He's actually bleeding—someone stop this!"
"Should the referee call it?"
But before the referee could even raise a hand, Axamu shouted through gritted teeth, his voice raw:
"D-don't stop it!! Don't you dare stop it!!"
Everyone froze, eyes wide at the sight of the trembling, blood-stained boy.
"If… if you stop this battle…" he muttered, his face pale and drenched in sweat, "…I'll will die…"
His words barely reached the mic, but the crowd heard them. Confusion surged like wildfire.
"Die?!"
"What's he talking about?!"
"He's delirious…!"
The announcer stammered, trying to hold the match together. "Th-the battle… will continue!"
The rival clenched his launcher, teeth gritted. "…You're insane. Fine—let's end this quick!"
"XTREME DASH!!"
Cobalt Dragoon roared across the stadium, cutting the track with impossible speed. The moment it struck—
BOOOOOOOM!
The explosion of metal against metal echoed like thunder.
Axamu's body arched violently, blood erupting from his lips as he screamed:
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"
He hit the ground, writhing in pain, veins bulging, every nerve lit aflame. His Bey staggered, nearly thrown out of the arena.
But then—
The rival's Bey stopped spinning.
Cobalt Dragoon lay dead on the track.
And somehow, White Cobalt Dragoon was still spinning, faintly, defiantly, refusing to fall.
The referee's hand shook as he raised it. "P-point… point to Axamu!!"
The stadium didn't cheer. Not a single voice rose.
Everyone just stared in horror at the boy on his knees, drenched in sweat and blood, clutching his stomach, eyes wide and trembling.
The rival whispered under his breath, voice cracking. "…What are you…?"
Axamu lifted his head slowly, blood staining his teeth, a broken laugh slipping past his lips.
"One point…" he rasped. "…paid with blood."
And with shaking hands, he raised his launcher again.
Because losing meant death.