The moment Zevion stepped through the front door of his house, he felt his soul detach from his body, as if a spirit had finally been freed from worldly suffering.
He didn't even bother turning on the lights.
Didn't bother dropping his bag properly.
Didn't bother acknowledging the world.
He just walked straight to his room like a ghost returning to its designated haunting spot.
Then—
Flop.
He threw himself onto the bed and sank into it so quickly that it was as if gravity had personally welcomed him home.
The ceiling stared back at him with the emotional support of a bland white rectangle.
Zevion groaned softly.
Why was being alive so exhausting?
He'd won a fight yesterday.
He'd survived school today.
He'd escaped Valt twice.
He'd knocked a child into unconsciousness.
That was enough achievements for a week.
He rolled over onto his back and threw an arm across his face.
Remembering his battles made something stir in his chest—not excitement, not pride, not fear…
Something like disappointment.
A hollow, echoing kind of disappointment.
In his past life, he grew up watching Beyblade fights that were nothing short of divine warfare.
Bit Beasts—massive, glowing, roaring elemental monsters—burst out of spinning tops like ancient gods being summoned for war.
Matches cracked the earth.
Skies split open.
Thunder crashed.
Everything was ridiculous and beautiful.
But this world?
Technique.
Angle.
Weight distribution.
Launch mechanics.
Friction coefficients.
It was scientifically impressive, yes.
But emotionally?
"Unsatisfying," Zevion muttered into his pillow.
"Deeply, cosmically unsatisfying."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out Apeiron Sof.
The faint red glow pulsed softly beneath the black surface, casting thin crimson lines across his palm.
He lifted it above his face, letting the dim room light reflect off it.
"Hey," he said flatly, "are there more Beyblades like you?"
Silence.
Then a small hum vibrated against his skin.
Typical.
Apeiron Sof didn't speak words.
Didn't project voices.
Didn't roar like a mythical beast.
Didn't even give cool one-liners like, Fight, partner.
It simply shoved information directly into his brain sometimes, which was… efficient, if scary.
Everything else?
Just humming.
Zevion let the Bey rest on his chest as he spoke again.
"Okay, listen. Hum once for yes, hum twice for no. Simple enough?"
A soft hum.
"Good."
He nodded, then asked, "Are there more Beys like you out there?"
Hum. One.
Zevion's eye twitched.
"…Seriously? There are? Like… other cosmic problem children roaming around?"
Another hum. Confirming.
He felt a chill crawl across his scalp.
"Are they strong?"
Hum. Once.
Zevion let out a miserable sigh.
"Awesome. Wonderful. Perfect. There are others like you, and they're strong. As if this world wasn't stressful enough…"
He hesitated, then asked the big one.
"…Is anyone stronger than you?"
Silence.
A long, unsettling silence.
Apeiron Sof didn't hum.
Didn't vibrate.
Didn't glow.
It was thinking.
That alone made Zevion sit up.
Finally—
Hum. Hum.
Twice.
Zevion blinked in disbelief.
"So… there's no one stronger than you?"
A single hum.
"…You're the strongest Beyblade in existence?"
Hum.
Zevion dropped his head back onto the pillow with a groan.
"Congratulations," he muttered, "you sound exactly like every final villain right before getting punched in the face by the protagonist who unlocks a hidden power or whatever."
Apeiron Sof hummed repeatedly—annoyed, almost offended.
Zevion held it up between his fingers like a troublesome pet.
"Hey, hey, I'm not insulting you. I'm just saying that statistically speaking, unbeatable things tend to get beaten. Narrative balance and all that."
The Bey hummed again—long and low—like it was grumbling about plot devices.
Zevion chuckled under his breath.
Then, after a moment of thought, he asked quietly:
"…Why did you fall from the sky anyway?"
Apeiron Sof went still.
Zevion blinked.
"…Right. That wasn't a yes-or-no question."
He massaged his forehead.
"My mistake. My brain cells are clocking out for the day."
He placed the Bey beside him on the pillow.
The red light softly illuminated the room, giving everything a warm, eerie glow.
Zevion stared upward.
"Still… It's kinda boring, you know?"
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Being the strongest. Having no one to challenge you. Life gets dull that way."
He didn't want to admit it, but part of him had hoped this world would give him something thrilling.
Something intense.
Something that made his heart race like those anime matches from his childhood.
But instead—
He fought amateurs.
He hand-spun to victory.
He got dragged across rooftops by a hyperactive child.
Not exactly the epic reincarnated life he expected.
Apeiron Sof hummed questioningly.
A question.
Zevion turned his head slightly toward it.
"Oh? You wanna know why it's boring?"
A gentle hum.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Because fighting should be fun."
He spoke like someone confessing a small truth he'd kept hidden.
"Beyblade battles should feel alive. Wild. Dramatic. Like the world actually shakes a little."
He raised a hand to the ceiling.
"But if everything ends too quickly… if there's no challenge… if there's no thrill… then what's the point? It just feels empty."
A soft hum—almost sympathetic.
Zevion smirked faintly.
"You get it, huh?"
Another hum.
Silence settled over the room again.
Warm.
Soft.
Peaceful.
A rare kind of peace.
Zevion closed his eyes, letting his thoughts drift.
Maybe tomorrow would be chaotic.
Maybe Shu would challenge him sooner than expected.
Maybe reporters would find out his address.
Maybe Valt would wake up and continue being… Valt.
But for now?
He had a bed.
He had a quiet room.
He had a cosmic Bey humming beside him like a tiny robot heart.
And honestly—
That was enough.
Night settled over Zevion's neighbourhood with a comforting heaviness, the sky painting the world in midnight blues and soft shadows.
Inside his house, the only illumination came from the living room TV—its bright colours spilling across the walls in flickering waves like a miniature aurora.
Zevion stood in front of it, tray in hand, eating dinner without even sitting down.
He never sat down when watching anime.
It felt sacred, like he needed the posture of a pilgrim witnessing divine revelation.
On the screen, Ainz Ooal Gown unleashed yet another world-ending spell, explosions of violet and black mana swirling across the battlefield.
Season five.
Season FIVE.
Zevion's eyes were glued to the glowing screen like a man clinging to sanity.
"God bless this parallel universe," he whispered reverently.
The animation was smoother, the battles flashier, and the soundtrack absolutely illegal in how good it was.
This world was ahead of his old one—technologically, medically, academically…
But most importantly, in anime production.
The thought alone made him feel grateful to be alive.
He lifted a piece of fried chicken with his chopsticks.
"To the superior timeline," he said solemnly before biting into it.
He chewed thoughtfully.
Though not everything was perfect here.
"No Game No Life… still no season two," he muttered darkly.
A shadow passed over his expression.
"Cruel and unreasonable. Truly a fallen world."
He took another bite.
At least the light novels were ahead.
He devoured the newest volume last week like a dehydrated man swallowing rain.
He continued watching, letting the glow of magic, explosions, and dramatic monologues fill the quiet room.
The peace was intoxicating.
It was the kind of quiet that felt earned.
But peace never lasted in his life.
Not for long.
Not even for five uninterrupted episodes.
Zevion was lifting the bowl for another sip of broth when—
FLASH—!!
An explosion of light burst through the window.
Not the small kind.
Not lightning.
Not fireworks.
The entire room turned white in an instant—blinding, raw, overwhelming.
It was like the sun itself had dropped onto his backyard.
Zevion's eyes widened.
His bowl trembled in his hands.
He quickly set the food down, muscles stiffening with dread.
His voice came out in a whisper filled with existential dread:
"…please tell me that wasn't a nuclear detonation."
Then the survival instincts of a reincarnated man kicked in.
He bolted to his bedroom in a blur, grabbed his launcher with one hand, Apeiron Sof with the other, and dashed back toward the window like a desperate soldier preparing to intercept Armageddon.
His breath came out sharp and fast, heart pounding inside his chest.
Okay, okay—think.
If a nuclear blast were imminent, there would be a shockwave.
He had one chance.
One INSANE chance.
Launch Apeiron Sof at full seal release.
The Beyblade might—might—counteract the blast with its own destructive energy.
Would it work?
Probably not.
Would it reduce the destruction?
Maybe.
Would it blow a hole in the planet?
Also maybe.
But anything was better than standing here doing nothing.
He lifted the launcher, hand trembling slightly from adrenaline.
"Alright… if we're dying, we're dying dramatically."
He pulled his arm back.
He inhaled.
Ready.
Apeiron's surface began to thrum in his palm, the faint glow under its shell brightening like it sensed danger.
Zevion braced his legs, preparing for a world-ending clash—
Then he actually looked out the window.
He froze.
His jaw slowly dropped.
"…that… is not a nuke."
Outside, the sky wasn't burning or cracking or emitting shockwaves.
Instead—
Thousands of tiny glowing spheres drifted down from above.
Slowly.
Softly.
Effortlessly.
They glimmered like stars torn from heaven, floating gently in the wind.
The entire night sky had transformed into a glowing constellation in motion.
Each orb shimmered in hues of cyan, gold, violet—like stained glass carried by invisible currents.
Some drifted through open windows.
Some rolled along roofs like glowing marbles.
Some hovered over lawns, illuminating the neighbourhood in surreal light.
No fire.
No destruction.
Just… beauty.
Zevion lowered his launcher very slowly.
"Okay… false alarm… happy to not die horribly… but what the hell is this?"
He stepped out onto his balcony, the cool night air brushing against his skin.
The glowing spheres reflected in his eyes like distant galaxies.
For a moment, even he was speechless.
The sky looked like something straight out of a fantasy anime—something that would be accompanied by swelling orchestral music and dramatic narration.
But instead of music, the only sound was a faint crackle of static in the air.
His senses focused.
Something about the atmosphere felt… charged.
Electric.
Alive.
He tightened his grip on Apeiron Sof, every instinct telling him this was far from random.
Before he did something recklessly curious, he forced himself inside and turned on the news.
The second he flipped the channel, the reporter's panicked voice filled the room.
"BREAKING NEWS! The skies worldwide have erupted with strange glowing objects!"
The camera shook violently as the news crew filmed the sky over a city.
Hundreds—no, THOUSANDS—of glowing fragments descended like a meteor shower slowed down.
"Scientists report these are fragments of a recently passed comet!"
The reporter shouted over the chaos.
"These shards contain an unknown energy—strong, unstable, and never seen before!"
Zevion frowned.
Unknown energy always meant trouble.
"And furthermore," the reporter continued breathlessly, "these fragments appear to be attracted to one specific object: Beyblades!"
The footage cut to another city.
Large glowing fragments shot toward bladers who panicked, dropped their toys, and ran.
Some Beyblades absorbed the fragments like magnets, drinking light.
Others pulsed violently afterwards, sending shockwaves across the ground.
"Our sensors indicate energy spikes all over the world!" The reporter yelled, hair whipping in the wind.
"Every major region is experiencing Beyblade-related energy events!"
Zevion stared blankly at the screen.
"Why… why is it always Beyblades in this world…?"
He walked back outside, lifting Apeiron Sof high above his head like a chosen hero waiting for divine empowerment.
"I won't complain," he muttered.
"Maybe this is the universe finally compensating me. Come on. Buff me. Upgrade me. Make me unstoppable."
A glowing orb drifted down toward him.
He held his breath, eyes widening.
"YES. YES. FINALLY. THIS IS IT—"
The orb stopped.
Hovered.
And then—
FWISH!!
It shot away like someone had punted it in the opposite direction.
"…huh?"
Another glowing sphere approached.
It drifted closer, humming softly.
Zevion steadied his arm.
"Alright, take two—!"
FWISH!!
It veered off again.
"HEY! COME BACK HERE AND POWER ME UP, YOU COWARD!!"
He tried again.
And again.
And again.
Every orb avoided Apeiron Sof like it carried plague.
After his fifteenth attempt, he lowered his arm in defeat.
"…Unbelievable."
He stared at the sky full of magical glowing buffs.
"But of course THIS happens. Of course, MY Beyblade is too cursed for upgrades."
He trudged inside like a disappointed father at a sports day event.
He turned up the news volume.
Immediately, a different reporter, voice on the verge of hysteria, appeared on screen.
"Dear viewers… what you're about to witness will change human history!"
The camera focused on a blader launching his Beyblade.
A comet shard glowed, melted into the spinning top—
And from the stadium—
A massive, spectral creature erupted.
A bestial figure made of swirling energy and elemental light.Wolves. Dragons. Birds. Beasts.
Whatever it was, it howled with power.
Then it launched forward and obliterated a massive boulder like it was nothing.
The crowd screamed.
The reporter shrieked:
"THIS IS A REVOLUTION! BIT BEASTS—REAL BIT BEASTS—HAVE EMERGED!"
Zevion stared.
Slowly.
Disbelievingly.
Then he pointed at the screen with the fury of a betrayed prophet.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"
His voice cracked in outrage.
"I JUST SAID THIS WORLD WAS BORING! I SAID THERE WERE NO BIT BEASTS!"
He threw his hands in the air.
"And THEN—THEN!!—You show me THIS!? Giant energy monsters?! Magical comet buffs?! WORLDWIDE POWER-UPS?!"
He collapsed to his knees like a dying man.
"I didn't ask for a difficulty increase! I ASKED FOR MONEY! I ASKED FOR CUTE GIRLS! WHY ARE YOU GIVING ME GLOBAL POWER CREEP INSTEAD!?"
Apeiron Sof pulsed faintly in his hand.
It sounded suspiciously like laughter.
Zevion glared at it.
"Shut up. This is your fault somehow."
He stared back at the TV, expression hollow.
"…The world just got harder."
He flopped sideways onto the carpet.
"And I didn't even finish my anime episode…"
He groaned into the floor.
"Why can't I just have ONE peaceful day…?"
...........................................................................................
Author's Note:
If you'd like to support my writing and help me recover from my recent laptop crash, I've set up a one-time donation goal on Ko-fi. Reaching it will allow me to return to consistent updates and begin work on my first original novel. The link is below. Every bit helps 💛
Ko-Fi: ko-fi.com/zevionasgorath
Patreon link: patreon.com/zevionasgorath