⚠️WARNING READ THE INFO BEFORE READING⚠️
Disclaimer: This is a fan-made Beyblade novel.
Please note that this story is entirely fictional and created by a fan of the Beyblade universe. It is not part of the official Beyblade canon or storyline, and it is not affiliated with or endorsed by the original creators, companies, or franchises behind Beyblade. All characters, events, and settings that differ from the original series are purely the result of the author's imagination for entertainment purposes only.
Disclaimer: This is Not an Evolution Series, but a combo evolution series. Meaning All Bey in this Novel will not be evolved to a new design but a new combo.
First:
As the world entered the Era of Dynamite Battle—often called the DB Era—Beyblade evolved once more. With new systems, parts, and revolutionary designs, countless Bladers across the globe began forging their own paths. Inspired by the intensity of the DB Era, many created original Beyblade designs, adding their own creativity and passion to the sport. This was a time of innovation, personal expression, and fierce competition.
Valt Aoi, once at the center of the Beyblade world, now found himself in a period of quiet restlessness. Despite his accomplishments, he longed for more battles—more challenges to test the limits of his skills and his partner, Ultimate Valtryek. With that in mind, he traveled to Brazil, hearing whispers of a rising Beyblade scene full of fresh talent and unique styles.
But fate had other plans.
While searching for a rumored tournament deep in the countryside, Valt took a wrong turn. One moment he was following a narrow trail through the vibrant forest—alive with sounds and color—and the next, he found himself completely lost among the trees. His compass failed, his map was useless, and his phone had no signal. Determined to find his way back, Valt pressed forward through the dense jungle.
Hours passed. The sun dipped lower, casting eerie shadows through the canopy. Weary and disoriented, Valt stumbled over a hidden root, losing his balance. He tumbled down a steep hill, branches and leaves tearing past him. As he fell, his grip slipped—and Ultimate Valtryek flew from his hand.
Thud!
By the time Valt hit the ground, Valtryek was gone.
Scraped and breathless, he sat up, his heart pounding—not just from the fall, but from the loss of his trusted partner. Surrounded by towering trees and unfamiliar sounds, he realized something unsettling:
He was alone, lost in the forest… without his Beyblade.
And so began a new journey—one filled with mystery, danger, and a destiny far beyond what he could have imagined.
Valt wandered deeper into the forest, his eyes scanning the ground and his thoughts racing. Every rustle of leaves or glint of light between the branches made his heart jump with hope. "Valtryek… where are you?" The forest seemed to stretch endlessly, each tree looking the same as the last, but Valt refused to give up.
Then, through the thick brush ahead, a faint glimmer caught his eye.
He rushed toward it, pushing past vines and low-hanging branches. And there it was—Ultimate Valtryek—lying motionless on a patch of dirt, half-buried in leaves and dust. The sight made Valt's breath catch in his throat.
He dropped to his knees beside it. "Valtryek!"
But as he picked up his partner, a cold chill crept over him. The once-shining Core was marred with a long, jagged crack across its center. The Blade was chipped along the edges, and the Driver looked scuffed and unstable, no longer spinning freely. It wasn't just battle damage—it was as if Valtryek had been… hurt.
"No… no, no…" Valt whispered, his voice trembling.
He gently wiped away the dirt and leaves, brushing off the grime with shaking hands. He held Valtryek close, as though hoping his warmth could somehow fix the damage.
"I'm sorry... I should've held on tighter," he muttered, filled with guilt and fear. This wasn't just a Beyblade to him. Valtryek had been with him through everything—his victories, his losses, his growth. And now it looked more broken than ever before.
Valt clenched his fists.
"I won't let this be the end," he said firmly, his voice rising with determination. "No matter what it takes… I'll find a way to bring you back, Valtryek."
Somewhere deep in the forest, unknown to Valt, a new force had begun to awaken—drawn to the bond between Blader and Beyblade… and the crack that had just been opened.
Valt continued his slow march through the forest, still clutching the damaged Valtryek close to his chest. His body was sore, and his spirit weighed heavy with worry, but he pressed on. The sunlight was beginning to break through the canopy above—warm, golden rays piercing the green veil of trees. And then... he heard something.
Laughter.
At first, he thought he was imagining it. But the sounds grew clearer—cheering, shouting, spinning metal, and bursts of energy. He pushed through a wall of vines and suddenly stopped.
Before him stood a small, vibrant village nestled deep within the forest. It was alive with activity. Dozens of people moved about, talking, trading, and laughing. But what caught his attention most was what lay at the far end of a wide dirt path—a Beyblade stadium. Not a standard one either, but a custom-made arena crafted from stone and reinforced wood, glowing faintly under the sunlight.
His eyes lit up with hope for the first time in hours.
Children were gathered around the stadium, their eyes wide with excitement as their Beys clashed in intense mini battles. Blades zipped and sparked across the surface while the crowd roared with every collision. Valt felt a wave of emotion surge through him—he had found a beacon of the Beyblade spirit in the most unexpected place.
With a burst of renewed energy, Valt rushed down the hill toward the crowd. "Finally… people! Battles! Maybe someone here can help me!"
But in his excitement, he missed a rock embedded in the path.
"Whoa—!"
He tripped, flailing wildly, and tumbled forward. Dirt flew into the air as he rolled downhill uncontrollably, arms wrapped around Valtryek to protect it from more harm. The crowd gasped as he crashed right into the edge of the gathering.
Just before he could hit the stadium, a firm hand grabbed him by the back of his jacket, halting his fall with surprising strength. Valt gasped and looked up.
Standing above him was a young man, tall and calm, with sharp eyes that seemed to read everything at once. He had a rough, forest-worn outfit and a strange-looking Bey clipped to his belt—one unlike any Valt had seen before.
"You alright there, stranger?" the young man asked with a half-smirk, helping him to his feet.
Valt nodded, brushing off dirt. "Yeah… thanks. I guess I got a little too excited."
The crowd stared, murmuring softly among themselves. No one had seen this guy before. And yet… something about him, and the broken Bey in his hand, seemed oddly important.
The young man glanced down at Valtryek. His eyes narrowed.
"That Beyblade… it's seen better days."
Valt looked at him. "Yeah. But it's not over yet."
The young man smiled.
"Good. Because around here… broken things have a way of becoming legends."
(To be Continued)