The battle ended too loudly.
A shockwave tore through the arena as two Bakugan collided midair, energy spiraling out of control instead of dispersing cleanly. The field flickered. The barriers strained. For a brief second, the holographic floor warped like it was melting.
Then—silence.
The crowd hesitated before erupting into cheers.
"Did you see that?!""That was insane!""Battles never used to spike like that!"
Kai Ardent didn't cheer.
He stood near the back of the arena, hood pulled low, arms crossed as he studied the field. The brawlers below were celebrating, laughing it off like nothing was wrong.
But Kai saw it.
That surge wasn't skill.
It was instability.
"Another Core Spike," the announcer said with a grin, brushing it off. "Guess the new era really is unpredictable!"
Kai clicked his tongue quietly.
Unpredictable isn't the same as stronger.
He turned away before the next match began.
Outside, the city buzzed with neon lights and floating screens looping the same headlines.
UNREGISTERED BAKUGAN EVOLUTION REPORTED
POST-LEGEND ERA BATTLES AT ALL-TIME HIGH
DAN KUSO & DRAGO: WHERE ARE THEY NOW?
Kai shoved his hands into his pockets.
Everyone talked about them like myths. Like gods who had decided they were done playing heroes. Dan and Drago—the last ones strong enough to keep everything in line.
They left.
And the world never quite stabilized after that.
"Yo, Kai!"
He stopped as a familiar voice caught up to him. Jax—loud, reckless, and always chasing the next big battle—slung an arm over Kai's shoulder.
"You didn't even stay for the finals," Jax said. "That was legendary stuff in there!"
Kai shrugged him off. "Legendary doesn't mean safe."
Jax laughed. "You worry too much. Power's power."
Kai didn't answer.
Jax glanced at the Bakugan clipped to Kai's belt, wrapped in dark cloth. "Still carrying that weird one around? You ever gonna battle with it?"
Kai's fingers brushed the sphere unconsciously. "Not yet."
Jax smirked. "You're sitting on something special. I can feel it."
So could Kai.
That was the problem.
Later that night, the city quieted. Kai cut through an older district—abandoned storage yards, cracked pavement, flickering streetlights. This was where he'd found it days ago, half-buried beneath rubble like it had been waiting.
The Bakugan pulsed faintly against his side.
"Easy," Kai muttered, stopping beneath a streetlight. "What's gotten into you?"
He unclipped it slowly.
The matte-black sphere felt heavier than it looked. Crimson lines glowed faintly, responding to his touch like a heartbeat.
Kai's breath slowed.
No command card.No activation call.
Still, the energy built.
The air around him warmed.
"What are you…?" he whispered.
For a split second, something pressed against his mind—not words, not images, just intent. Fire held back. Coiled. Controlled.
Then—
Footsteps.
Kai snapped his head up.
Three silhouettes moved at the edge of the yard, their outlines sharp against the dim lights. They weren't brawlers. No decks. No crowd energy.
They were watching.
The Bakugan flared hot in his palm.
Kai clenched his fist around it, heart pounding.
Whoever they were… they weren't here by accident.
And suddenly, Kai understood something chilling—
This new era wasn't about who battled best.
It was about who survived what came next.