Fairies were said to be miniature likenesses of humans—mostly female in shape—small bodies rimed with light. Their radiance could swell until they looked like white, whispering orbs in the dark of the woods. But a single fairy rarely came alone; where one appeared, several followed, shimmering in the moonshadow or during an eclipse. Wings carried them soundlessly from bark to bark. Get close enough and you’d see the fragile perfection: pale skin, easy eyes, laughter like bell-honey, voices soft as silk.

  One of them fluttered close now, its glow high and sweet. It flushed scarlet and then—poof—imploded into a plume of fire. Ash drifted away like confetti.

  “I hate fairies,” Bobby snarled, watching the dust float. He ground his teeth. “Remind me why I can’t just raise a magical domain and eviscerate every one of these mana-sucking—”

  “Because they’re here for a reason,” Vix said, flat and controlled. “Now shut up and let the Grand Majestry work.” His own jaw tightened. He kept his shoulders loose outwardly, but his hands closed on his wand, knuckles whitening.

  Kai chuckled softly at the bickering behind him but didn’t turn. His attention stayed fixed on the marker Vix had brought him. His hands hovered inches above it, never quite touching—guiding invisible streams of mana that coiled and shimmered around the crystal. With each subtle motion, the artifact pulsed brighter, deepening to a richer blue that washed over the clearing in waves of light.

  Another fairy fluttered too close to Bobby. Its high-pitched squeal cut off midway as a blade of wind sliced it clean in half—fired from Bobby’s wand with a single flick. The halves disintegrated into a faint shimmer of dust.

  “Vile,” Bobby muttered, eyes narrowing.

  “Much like your complaining,” Vix shot back.

  Bobby didn’t look at him. “Oh, come on! Give me a break, man! Can’t a guy hate something and be loved for it?”

  “I don’t know,” Vix said evenly, still watching the treeline. “Can you stop talking now?”

  Bobby rolled his eyes and shrugged, the smirk never leaving his face.

  “All right. That should do it,” Kai announced, pride softening his voice. He lifted the marker like a football and gave a thumbs-up.

  “God, finally! Let’s get the hell out of here before I accidentally burn the forest down, eh?” Bobby said, practically buzzing with excitement.

  Vix shot him a cold glare.

  “Anyway—good work, Your Majestry,” Vix said as he stepped toward Kai. “With that, Sentinel Island should offer no resistance to being conquered. ”

  “Well… you’re mostly right, commander.” Kai’s chuckle came out a touch more nervous this time. Vix raised an eyebrow. “I fear the Egypt-Khan might not approve.”

  “What? Those bastards?” Bobby barked, rubbing his forehead. “The Egyptian prime minister should’ve taken your offer when they had the chance. But nooo—pride. Honor. Let’s all be noble and ruin ourselves for tradition!” His sarcasm dripped.

  Kai’s chuckle loosened into something like a grim smile. “Er… yes. But that their decision. One can respect that.”

  “Right. And now they’re being swallowed by their own nationalist terrorist group—which, mind you, is winning.” Bobby’s voice was half mockery, half anger.

  Kai shook his head. “Can’t win them all.”

  “But we …” Bobby suggested, waggling a finger, a devious smile creeping up.

  Vix rolled his eyes. “It was their choice. They simply face the consequences.”

  Kai and Bobby exchanged a quick, conspiratorial glance. Bobby leaned in, lowering his voice. “Hey—no offense—but between the two of us, give or take a Milo, we could probably crush that terrorist cell and save Egypt. Not just one city—”

  Vix looked away and rubbed his shoulder, the movement small and tired. He’d heard this sort of bravado before—the kind that blurred the line between rescue and recklessness. The world felt heavier when decisions had lives attached to them, and he could already taste the cost in the back of his mouth.

  “I’m afraid I have to agree with Vix on this one, Bobby,” Kai said gently, his tone even but firm. “Let’s just… let time do the talking.”

  Bobby exhaled hard, watching his grand plan crumble in seconds. “Yeah, yeah. Guess time talks louder than I do.”

  “Commander Wholewheat,” Kai said, straightening, “please take your men and exit the forest. Our mission here is complete.”

  “Oh, I’m taking my vacation ASAP!” Bobby said, already strolling off with a bounce in his step.

  “Oh—and don’t forget tomorrow,” Kai added casually. “You’re taking Commander Nepton here to that club you mentioned.”

  Bobby froze mid-step. His posture slumped forward, as if his very soul had been vacuumed out through his chest. “You’re kidding…” he muttered. “Does he seriously get the fun for free?”

  Vix flinched, glaring. “Why did you have to say that?”

  Kai only smiled mischievously, eyes narrowing. “Because I have a small mission for you in the daytime. If that helps.”

  Vix’s eyes brightened just slightly. , something that sounded normal—mundane, even.

  Kai gave a small gesture, dismissing Bobby, who vanished into the forest with a few grumbles. The silence that followed was thin but comfortable.

  “So…” Kai began softly, “you’re aware of the Grand Prix in Kormadyne, right?”

  Vix’s expression hardened. “Yes. I’m glad we’re alone, because I needed to talk to you about ” His voice dropped to a restrained growl. “Where the hell is Yaxon?!”

  “What? Why him? What do you need for?” Kai asked, stepping back in genuine shock.

  “Well, he’s running for Director.”

  “Director?!”

  Vix straightened, his expression snapping into disbelief. “Are you serious? You didn’t know?”

  “This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

  Vix’s jaw fell open, disgust and confusion twisting together. “What—what is he ”

  “He was supposed to be the professor for Dueling and Defensive Arts at Kormadyne last year.”

  “Yeah? He called off the ”

  “I’m sure to scold him…

  “That doesn’t help!” Vix snapped, pulling out his communicator. “I need to know what he’s thinking! I’ve sent him over forty missed calls!” He waved the device like evidence. “FORTY MISSED CALLS!”

  Kai squinted at it. “Yes… I can see that.”

  “I need to know

  Because whatever he’s doing—he’s recruiting people to his side!”

  “What?”

  “Yes! Director Benneth’s involved! Both of us expect he won’t even for the elections. And what’s worse—he’s going up against Alphonse Vandergrift! They’re both running for the same seat!”

  “…I… truly don’t know what for…” Kai murmured, scratching the back of his head, expression unreadable.

  “Well, he’s shooting himself in the foot by not involving me. He should’ve told me! I’m his second-in-command!”

  Kai folded his arms, hugging the marker to his chest. “Never mind that for now. Worry about your mission tomorrow morning first. The first race of the Kormadyne Grand Prix is in Chicago, and I need you there—as a referee.”

  “…Why? Don’t they already have plenty of those?”

  “I think the race will run a lot smoother under watchful eye.”

  Vix paused, his irritation cooling into reluctant thought. For once, he didn’t dismiss the order outright. He just sighed.

  “Fine. I’ll be there.”

  Kai smiled faintly. “It was an order anyway.”

  “Right. I know…” Vix exhaled again, heavier this time.

  “That’s the spirit!” Kai cheered. But as the words left him, he caught a look in Vix’s eyes—a fragile blend of hurt, fear, and something deeper.

  “Vix?” Kai tilted his head slightly, studying him.

  “Yes, Your Majestry?”

  “You know your Rin is participating in this race.”

  “…What.”

  Kai chuckled softly, nodding. He stepped closer and rested a hand on Vix’s shoulder.

  “Is that why you—” Vix began.

  “Yes,” Kai said before he could finish. “Partly. You should begin somewhere, right?”

  “…Right.”

  Kai looked away then, though his expression said he was already somewhere far ahead in thought. “You do a lot, you know that?”

  “I know.”

  “You set high expectations for yourself,” Kai continued. “But too often, they align with what you expect for the world. Give yourself some grace.”

  Vix said nothing. His shoulders slumped slightly beneath Kai’s hand, though the weight he felt wasn’t from Kai—it was everything he’d been carrying long before this mission.

  “I feel your time at that club won’t be a waste,” Kai said gently. “I promise you.”

  Vix managed a faint exhale, fully with disbelief. “We’ll see…”

  #

  “GET READY, EVERYONE, FOR THE KORMADYNE ACADEMY OF MAGICAL AMERICA’S FIRST-EVER GRAND PRIX!!!

  The announcement boomed through the speakers, followed by an eruption of cheers that shook the stands. Music thundered behind the voice—bright, fast, perfectly synced with the crowd’s rising pulse. The announcer’s voice was charming and crisp, commanding every ear in the arena while keeping the energy sky-high.

  “IN JUST A FEW SHORT MOMENTS, OUR FRESHMEN RIDERS WILL ENTER STAGING FOR FINAL INSPECTIONS! AND THEN—LET THE RACES BEGIN!!!

  Another wave of cheers roared like an ocean.

  Rin stood still beside her two floating holographic monitors, her expression unreadable. Lines of data flickered across the transparent screens as she ran through diagnostics.

  “Rin… are you sure you can do this?” Eddie asked nervously from behind her.

  “Of course, Eddie. I’m serious about this. Do you doubt me?”

  “Well…” he started, but then her eyes met his—burning with a new, dangerous flame. Warm brown, rimmed in a distant orange that almost looked like embers.

  “…Nope. I do doubt you,” he said quickly.

  “Good. Finish inspecting the track and get it updated on my end.”

  “R-right… copy that…” His tone faltered as he bent over the printed map, checking the route’s holographic overlay. The data hadn’t synced to Rin’s display yet, but as co-coach, it was his job to keep her fed with live updates.

  “ALRIGHT, EVERYONE! TAKE A GOOD LOOK—HERE COME THE FRESHMEN RIDERS OF THE SOUTH HOUSE!!!

  The crowd erupted again. Rin’s monitors lit up fully—two separate feeds blinking to life. On one, Chippy’s perspective burst with color; on the other, Alvie’s jittery camera view shook slightly as he adjusted his gear.

  “Chippy, Alvie, come in. I can see you both clearly from here,” Rin said.

  “Rin? Heyyy, girl!” Chippy’s voice crackled through the comms, bright as ever. On-screen, Rin could see her teammate flaunting her new racing suit, blowing kisses and waving to the crowd.

  The stadium floated on massive air thrusters above the lakefront, shimmering under morning light. The eight-mile stretch of Lake Shore Drive had been transformed into the official Kormadyne Circuit—its starting line, finish, and staging area all in one continuous glowing strip. Families in the stands cheered, waving flags and holographic banners as the racers approached their gears.

  Just as Chippy reached hers, Alvie stepped up beside her, running one nervous hand through his yellowish hair.

  “Rin…?” his wavering voice came through her earpiece. “Is it weird that I’m having… frigid feet right now?”

  Rin’s lips curved slightly. “Relax, Alvie,” she said, her voice calm but confident. “You’ve got this. Just stay close to Chippy—she’s your leader out there. I’ll guide you both from here. You have nothing to worry about. We’re all in this together.”

  “Th-thanks… Rin,” he murmured, cheeks flushing slightly as he turned back to his airship for final checks.

  More announcements echoed across the stadium as the other Houses rolled into the staging strip of the track. Chippy and Alvie were representing the South House freshmen, but six other year groups stood ready as well—each older, stronger, and more experienced.

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  They didn’t have to worry about competing with their own upperclassmen from South House; only placements within the same year mattered. Still, every rider from the Houses could throw them off the track if given the chance. Thankfully, even if an older group crossed the finish line first, it wouldn’t affect their ranking.

  Finally, the

  was announced.

  Rin’s eyes narrowed as she looked up at the massive broadcast monitor above her pit-stop garage. A boy with light-gray hair tipped in orange waved confidently to the crowd. Next to him, another boy—dressed in a darker suit nearly identical to Drenco’s—also raised a hand in greeting.

  Both approached their gears. But when Drenco mounted his, Rin’s stomach twisted.

  “Eddie… what’s that gear Drenco’s using?”

  Eddie squinted at the display. “Oh, that? Looks like an I don’t know much about those, but I’m not underestimating him. Especially if there’s a chance he’s… cheating.”

  “Right,” Rin muttered. “We need to stay alert.”

  “Well, good thing there’ll be plenty of eyes on him,” Eddie said, flashing a grin and giving Rin a reassuring thumbs-up. He patted her shoulder.

  Rin smiled back, nodding. “Right.”

  Just then, her dual holographic monitors flickered again. A new feed opened—a live aerial view of the entire track. Rin exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

  “Alright… looks like the race is starting soon,” she said into her earpiece, her voice carrying a faint tremor of nerves.

  “Pffft! Don’t worry, girl—I got this!” Chippy declared confidently. “As long as Alvie or I come in first—which we —we can totally stick it to that snot-nosed brat any day!”

  “I-I’ll just help!” Alvie added quickly.

  “Yup! Oh—and, uh, don’t get in my way, please? Thank you!!!” Chippy sang, practically radiating mischief.

  Eddie face-palmed, shaking his head. “Sportsmanship at its finest.”

  On the track, Drenco strolled up behind Chippy and Alvie, grinning like he owned the place.

  “What’s up, losers? Ready to lose? Rin might be coaching you from that cozy garage, but out here? It’s just you and my wrath.”

  Chippy scoffed, rolling her eyes while Alvie shrank half a step behind her.

  “As if! You’ll be finishing dead last the way I’m gonna handle it out here,” she fired back.

  “Oh yeah?” Drenco smirked. “Just so you know, I’ve been riding gears since I was six. I know high-speed tracks better than anyone out here.”

  Chippy gave him a long, unimpressed stare, then glanced at Alvie before crossing her arms.

  “Dude. That proves nothing. Get on the track—prove it.”

  “Pft! What do you

  I’m about to do?” Drenco chuckled, his laugh turning into an obnoxious “Ha—” before abruptly cutting off.

  Chippy had stepped closer, close enough for him to feel the confidence radiating off her.

  “Just try to catch me… if you can.” Her voice was low, full of challenge, a smirk tugging at her lips that he couldn’t quite wipe away.

  He clicked his tongue and smiled back. “You’ll be eating my dust, wannabe Staffire.”

  “And you’ll be choking on , diaper boy.”

  She flicked the top of his helmet, sending it slightly askew. He flinched and grabbed it, scowling. From inside Chippy’s earpiece, Rin and Eddie couldn’t help but snicker. The helmet really did look like a diaper wrapped around his head.

  “ALRIGHT, RIDERS! MOUNT YOUR GEARS AND REV YOUR THRUSTERS! THE RACE BEGINS IN JUST A FEW SHORT MOMENTS!

  The announcement cut through the tension like lightning.

  Drenco scurried back to his gear while Chippy swung onto her pink hoverbike, grinning from ear to ear.

  Alvie climbed onto his airship, sliding his hands into the twin control ports—his fingers fitting into the circular handles built inside. Both machines hummed to life, their stands retracting as they lifted from the ground.

  Hovering. Ready.

  “BEFORE THE RACE BEGINS, WE HAVE A FEW QUICK WORDS TO DELIVER! DIRECTOR SAMUEL—TAKE IT AWAY!

  The crowd’s cheers dimmed just enough for the Director’s voice to echo clearly through the arena’s sound system.

  “Good morning, everyone! Riders, attendees, fans of the extreme gear racing scene, and faculty—I thank you for both participating and spectating today. Welcome, and thank you for joining us on this crisp, dewy morning here in the Windy City! Today, our riders will compete in the —the first race of its kind ever held in Chicago!”

  The main monitors above the track flickered, revealing a full holographic map of the course to the audience.

  “Up on the screens, you can now see the exact track our riders will be racing. As you take a look, I’d like to thank a few specific individuals for helping make this incredible event possible.”

  Rin barely heard a word of it. The Director’s voice faded into white noise as she focused on the track map glowing across her own monitors. Her eyes darted rapidly, memorizing routes, analyzing turns, planning shortcuts—every possible path that could shave seconds for Chippy and Alvie.

  Eddie worked beside her, muttering suggestions and relaying adjustments through their comms. The two moved in sync—until a single name from the loudspeakers made them both freeze.

  “I’d like to extend a warm thank-you to for his contributions and organizational efforts in not only this race, but the ”

  A thunderous cheer followed, echoing through the floating stadium.

  High above, the VIP suites glittered with tinted glass and gold trim—reserved for those with enough wealth and power to be seen. The largest of them belonged to Alphonse himself. He waved to the crowd with a deceptively warm smile, his posture easy, calculated.

  Down below, referees were stationed across the track—each one keeping a vigilant watch. But one stood among the regular spectators, apart from the others.

  His green eyes shimmered faintly blue as a spell triggered, zooming his sight across the course. He scanned the staging line, weaving past racer after racer until he spotted Chippy.

  .

  Vix exhaled through his nose, lowering his focus back to normal vision. He crossed his arms, shoulders relaxing under the weight of realization.

  “Well… let the race begin then, Rin,” he murmured softly. The words left his lips but went nowhere—caught in the roar of the crowd, lost to the wind, never reaching her.

  Suddenly, the speakers blared again. The lively girl’s voice that had been riling up the crowd was gone—replaced by a calm, authoritative male voice.

  “Coaches, race begins in ten seconds. Good luck, and have fun.

  Rin’s earpiece pinged at the same moment as Eddie’s. She immediately switched her channel to her racers.

  “Guys! Race begins in ten seconds! Get ready!”

  “They really gotta speed things up,” Chippy groaned.

  “T-Thanks again, R-Rin…” Alvie stammered, his voice trembling.

  Chippy powered down her hoverbike, walked over, and smacked him across the helmet—firm but not cruel. She didn’t say a word. She just turned on her heel, returned to her bike, and powered it back up.

  Alvie blinked, rubbed his head, and exhaled slowly. Somehow… that helped.

  The signal lights above the track flared to life—one by one.

  Then

  Then

  Blue again—flickering—

  And then

  The world exploded into motion.

  Engines screamed. A storm of air and light burst forward as every gear launched off the line at once. Whirring thrusters and flashing wings painted the air in streaks of color.

  Chippy slammed her throttle to the max and cut through the pack like a comet, her pink bike weaving with impossible precision.

  Alvie followed close behind, his airship roaring as he fought to keep her in sight.

  And just like that—before anyone could blink—

  “Freshmen South House take the lead!”

  Rin blinked, stunned for half a heartbeat—then jumped into the air, cheering loud enough to make the entire pit crew laugh.

  “YES! That’s it, Chippy!”

  Eddie chuckled, shaking his head as the rest of their crew erupted in whoops and applause.

  Out on the track, Chippy was

  She slammed into the first turn—a brutal right—so sharp the rider tailing her nearly clipped the barrier. Alvie shot upward, his airship tilting as he launched into the air just to clear the curve safely. A few racers slipped ahead of him during the recovery, but none could close the gap on Chippy.

  The pink blur only grew faster. The crowd screamed as her bike tore across the strip, glowing thrusters painting streaks of magenta and white behind her.

  Rin’s smile faded as the readings on her monitors spiked.

  “Ch-Chippy?!” she shouted into the earpiece. “M-Maybe you should slow down?”

  “And the race? Heck no!” Chippy barked back, laughter cutting through the comms as she banked into another turn.

  “But you just looked at the track map before we started!” Eddie’s voice jumped in, higher and sharper now. “You’ve got a and coming up—are you sure about this?!”

  “Duh! I’m from Chicago!” Chippy said, her grin practically glowing through the static. “I know! Chinatown’s so cool this time of day…”

  Rin and Eddie exchanged a look—Rin smiling with quiet trust, Eddie frowning in pure anxiety.

  She didn’t have to see her to know it—Chippy was

  “Uhh, guys? I-I’m seeing thunder in the skies…” Alvie’s nervous voice crackled through the comms.

  “WITH A STORM ROLLING IN, THIS RACE COULD BELONG TO !

  “Oh, great… just what we needed,” Eddie muttered, glancing up at the darkening clouds.

  “Never mind the storm! Just stay in the race, Alvie! Chippy needs you!” Rin shouted through her earpiece.

  “R-right!” He found his resolve again, tightening his grip.

  The first drops hit—then the sky opened. Rain hammered the streets of Chicago, relentless and loud, bouncing off the metallic lanes.

  Chinatown came alive under the storm—rows of floating red lanterns shimmered against the wet asphalt as Chippy tore through the district. Two riders trailed behind her, their thrusters struggling against the slick roads.

  “How is she—”

  “—” they shouted together.

  Chippy leaned forward even more, her laughter echoing through the comms as she took impossible turns, her pink hoverbike cutting arcs of water behind her. Each drift sent waves across the track, nearly toppling the riders chasing her.

  Then—open road. She hit a long straightaway heading north on I-90, thrusters screaming as she banked into a sharp right. The glowing signs above the freeway pointed her toward Lower Wacker Drive.

  She didn’t slow. Refused to.

  Her bike drifted hard, sparks flashing in the stormlight. She shot into Lower Wacker like a missile—still in the lead, it. Even the senior racers couldn’t match her pace.

  Up ahead, she spotted a ramp studded with floating over the river—an obvious shortcut.

  “Perfect!” she grinned—until she realized she was going too fast.

  “Shoot!” she hissed, speeding past it.

  “It’s alright!” Rin called over the comms. “Just remember it next lap!”

  “Will do, girl!”

  Back in the pit, Eddie clutched his handbook, knuckles white. The gap between Chippy and Alvie was widening fast, and Chippy had just looped back toward Lake Shore.

  As soon as she crossed the finish line, glowing would spawn along the track—each one carrying temporary boosts, defenses, or hazards. Once that happened, it wouldn’t just be about speed anymore.

  It would be about strategy.

  And in the chaos of the storm, even the slowest racer could seize first place in an instant.

  Then she crossed it.

  As Chippy sped south down Lake Shore, two turns ahead shimmered with hovering —pale blue and white, faintly glowing against the rain. She smashed through the first one, and a holographic screen burst to life over her left wrist—the one controlling her clutch.

  A red bullet icon spun there.

  “Dangit!” she grunted, then aimed her palm backward. She opened and closed her hand, and the red bullet materialized behind her before rocketing straight down the track. It wasn’t aimed at anyone in particular; she just didn’t want to hold onto it. The projectile vanished into harmless red mist as it left the course.

  More riders crossed the finish line behind her, their own bubbles flaring to life. Alvie trailed several positions back when he hit his. His wrist display glowed bright blue—a

  He blinked. “Uh—what the—?”

  “Alvie!” Eddie shouted through the comms. “You just got a mana packet! Save it for when you’re under the city—boost off the ramp!”

  “What? Are you

  No way! I—I can’t do that! I’ll just use it when I head north!”

  “That won’t work! Others will do the same!” Eddie’s voice rose, urgent now. “This is about

  not speed! You’re not just racing anymore!”

  Alvie grit his teeth, dodging bursts of energy and conjured hazards flung by other riders. He was right in the crossfire, every projectile screaming instead of back.

  He hit Lower Wacker Drive. His heart sank.

  “E-Eddie! I—I can’t do it!”

  Rin’s voice broke in, sharp and commanding. “Alvie! You If you don’t, you’ll

  catch up to Chippy!”

  Alvie’s breath shook. He closed his eyes for just a moment—just long enough to see the ramp appear ahead through the blur of rain and light.

  Then he switched to third gear.

  His airship shifted—wings folding back, new thrusters unfolding with a roar. A sixth set ignited, glowing white-hot.

  And then he launched.

  “” Alvie screamed as he shot forward like a rocket, the airship’s engines tearing through the downpour.

  In the pit, Rin and Eddie’s eyes widened at his telemetry. His speed gauge had spiked—

  The world turned into streaks of color. He could barely see. But just before hitting the ramp, instinct kicked in. He swerved, catching the tail end of the boost—just enough to blast past two riders and land ahead of them.

  As the mana burst faded, he shifted back to first gear, stabilizing. His HUD blinked

  Then the roar came through the announcer’s speakers:

  “CHIPPY IS STILL IN THE LEAD!!!

  Rin’s monitors flared with data, her eyes wide as she watched Chippy weave through a barrage of incoming hazards—dodging everything like she had a second pair of eyes on the back of her head.

  “So slow!” Chippy laughed through the comms, twisting into another drift. “What’s the matter? Need little tricks and power-ups just to keep up?!”

  Suddenly, a different announcement cut through the storm.

  “DRENCO’S BUILDING MOMENTUM!!!

  Rin’s heart jumped. She looked up at the broadcast feed—and froze.

  Sure enough, Drenco had somehow blasted past half the field and was now right on Chippy’s tail.

  Chippy glanced back briefly and giggled. “Oh, please.”

  But to Rin and Eddie’s horror, Drenco took the next turn just as fast.

  “The heck?!” Rin shouted, slamming her fist against the console.

  “What’s up, nerd?!” Drenco’s voice cracked over the track comms, smug and electric. “What was that about again?”

  “Yeah? I wasn’t wrong—you still ” Chippy shouted right back, voice echoing over the comms.

  Another turn. Another straightaway.

  Both Chippy and Drenco shifted into third gear, activating the mana packets they’d saved for the final stretch. Their thrusters screamed in unison, streaks of pink and orange light cutting through the rain.

  But the distance between them didn’t change. Chippy held her lead. Drenco trailed just a few meters behind.

  “Dang it…” he hissed under his breath. “If this keeps up, I won’t be able to—”

  His thought cut off.

  A flash of crimson shot past his vision—Chippy had fired a red bullet. It struck his gear dead-on.

  His entire chassis jolted violently, spinning out of control. Drenco fought the steering, teeth bared, barely regaining control before slamming into the barrier. His power flickered for a fraction of a second… but that fraction was enough.

  Two… three… five racers zipped past him.

  He was suddenly

  “NOOOO!” Drenco screamed, fury echoing across the track.

  Back in the pit, Rin and Eddie exploded with cheers, jumping in the air. Their comms lit up with Chippy and Alvie’s laughter.

  But then—a voice crackled in Drenco’s earpiece. Deep. Heavy. Cold.

  “Boy… what on earth are you doing?”

  Drenco froze, his breath catching. “...F-Father…”

  “The Grand Prix has barely begun, and you’re already failing me,” Alphonse’s voice growled. “Tsk. Focus on getting out of that hellhole you’re in—dead last. I’ll handle this.”

  The line went silent. Then another channel clicked open.

  “It’s time,” Alphonse said flatly. “Do it.”

  He disconnected.

  On the far side of the city—off the designated track—a pulse of erupted, blasting upward into the storm clouds before curving violently back down.

  Then came the sound—like thunder screaming.

  A blue projectile ripped through the air, hurtling down the track at untraceable speed.

  “Uh, Eddie?” Rin’s voice wavered, her eyes glued to the live feed. “What was that?”

  Eddie’s fingers flew across his handbook, scanning through the registry of available power-ups. His face drained of color.

  “I-It’s… it’s like the red bullet,” he stammered, “but it to the first-place racer!”

  “That’s a thing?!” Rin snapped, panic breaking through her voice.

  “Y-Yeah, but—something’s

  with this one! It’s moving too fast, it’s—wait, no…” Eddie’s eyes widened. “It’s ” He shot up from his chair. “If that hits Chippy, it won’t just disable her gear for a moment—it’ll her!”

  Rin’s heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Then she screamed into the mic—

  “What?! Why?! I’m

  away from the finish line!” Chippy yelled, her voice crackling through the comms.

  The blue bullet screamed past the other racers, cutting through the rain like lightning.

  From the stands, Vix raised an eyebrow. “The hell is that?”

  The crowd began to gasp, rising to their feet. Murmurs rippled through the floating stadium.

  “Someone’s tampering with the race already?” Vix muttered, his jaw tightening.

  The bullet tore down the track, now locked onto Chippy with nothing else in its path. Even the audience could tell—something about that blue light was

  Vix clicked his tongue and started walking down Lake Shore Drive. His pace was calm. Shoulders loose. Eyes locked.

  He raised his wand, green sparks flickering at the tip, and fired.

  A bolt of emerald light struck the bullet—deflected cleanly.

  He fired again. And again. Each curse bounced away like a pebble skimming water.

  Chippy thundered past him in a blur, her hoverbike’s aftershock rippling through the air. He simply took the brunt of his without even flinching. She didn’t even notice him.

  Vix stood still, the wind tearing at his shirt and coat, and smirked faintly.

  “Huh… so that’s how it’s gonna be?”

  Then the sky

  The storm deepened. The clouds turned blacker than night. Thunder rolled without touching ground, caged in the heavens.

  Vix’s hair began to lift, hovering as the air around him warped. Blue light coiled around his body, mana becoming visible—alive.

  His green eyes flared, the whites consumed by light until they shone like twin emerald suns. His voice deepened, resonant and layered with a strange echo.

  A crack of power exploded downward. Lightning struck

  And Vix raised his wand again.

  He fired one final bolt—so fast the human eye couldn’t trace it. It ripped through the storm, pierced the bullet, and vanished into the exosphere.

  The blue projectile disintegrated instantly, shattering into dust that glittered faintly before fading away.

  Vix exhaled. His eyes dimmed back to green as the mana swirl evaporated.

  Other racers flew past him, unaware of what had just occurred. Even the audience, now cheering wildly again, couldn’t comprehend the miracle they’d witnessed.

  Vix slid his wand back into its sheath, hands slipping into his pockets as he walked off the track. A small smile tugged at his lips.

  He didn’t need to stick around to know who’d won. The announcer’s voice confirmed it seconds later:

  “CHIPPY HAS JUST CROSSED THE FINISH LINE! SOUTH HOUSE WINS THE FIRST RACE OF THE KORMADYNE GRAND PRIX!!!

  The stadium erupted in uncontainable cheers.

  Electric. Endless. Victorious.

  Above it all, in his glass suite, Alphonse simply shook his head—his plan had worked, but despite that, he could only see the failures in it. His eyes locked on Drenco.