With Great Power

Power

Later that night, or the next morning depending on how you look at it, Lui is staring off into the darkness of the desert that surrounds this small town. The roof of the WBBA is where he is, thinking about everything that had gone down that day. Trad is more powerful, Requiem is more powerful, than any of them could possibly imagine. Free himself said the battle was hopeless, and Lui found himself starting to believe him. It goes against everything Lui stands for, but it's the truth: there might not be a chance to win this tournament.

Trad might just as well burst everyone at once and declare himself the victor. He's clearly powerful enough to do so. He just wants to win this tournament, that's all he wants to do, but then what? What will Trad do after he wins?

The answer is obvious to Lui. Requiem will possess Trad. The spirit of Requiem will gain complete control, and then the Trad that everyone knows will no longer be. There's a lot more to Requiem than meets the eye, and Lui himself is starting to figure it out, despite not having tried to wield Requiem himself.

He'd rather not let anything get complete control over him. He works with Longinus, not for . His Bey is his only ally. Or, at least it was. Now Lui is completely alone, having avoided making a deal with Longinus for fear that something very similar to what happened in Japan will happen again during the World League. He doesn't like the idea of becoming sadistic and cruel again, now that he's experienced what it's like to at least be civil with everyone he meets. He has friends now, which is something he never had while Longinus was basically in control.

That's what he's afraid of. He's scared to death of the thought of a Bey getting control of its Blader. The fact that there's real spirits inside of these Beyblades makes them even less of a toy and even more of an instrument, a tool used to fight. Swords aren't toys. Guns aren't toys. And now that these Beys have spirits inside, they aren't toys either. And if they are still considered toys, then they are dangerous toys.

This tournament could be all yours, Lui.

Lui is snapped out of his thoughts by a familiar voice. It's been so long since he's heard it. That icy, raspy voice that could send chills down his spine if he hadn't been used to hearing it. He decides to focus on it, since it's the only thing he can really hear, aside from the desert winds and the hum of the building's furnace way down below.

You want to win. You want to beat Requiem. I can help you do that, if you'll just let me.

Lui doesn't respond to it. His eyes are locked on the pure, endless black of the night. He's listening, but he's refusing to respond. He knows what will happen if he does decide to reply to the voice of Nightmare Longinus. He gets flashbacks, horrifying flashbacks, to the days where Lost Longinus had taken him over and turned him into the cruel sadist that everybody knew him as. Flashbacks to scarring Shu, torturing everyone that wanted to join the Supreme Four, and killing those who attempted the initiation but didn't make the final cut. The thought of doing that all over again makes him sick.

You abandoned me. I forgive you, don't worry. I can help you win this tournament, I can help you take down Requiem, if you just let me.

"I don't need help," Lui says at last.

That's where you're wrong. You might not need help from people, but you definitely need help from me. If you're not with me, you're against me, and you're doomed to lose.

Lui shuts his eyes, and is met with a vision. He's in a battle with Trad. He can see himself, his violet eyes glowing, his hair running wild like flames. He can see the grin of a demon on his face. He launches his Bey. Longinus and Requiem collide in a brilliant flash of red and purple light. A moment later, the wind and light die down. Lui sees Trad on his knees before him, the three pieces of Requiem scattered around the stadium. Longinus is in the stadium, still spinning. It flies up into Lui's hand. The moment the Beyblade touches Lui's palm, a surge of power rushes through his veins, causing his heart to pound and a laugh to escape his mouth.