That is All I Ask For: Chapter 18: When the Beast Awakens

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The days after Zero Eclipse's rise through the leaderboard felt like walking a tightrope strung over shifting sand.

Micah sat alone in the design bay, fingers tracing an old sketch Julian once drew — a rough concept of what he called "the beast." It had been nothing more than a wild fantasy back then: oversized torque converters, a custom chassis that could bend under G-force without fracturing, a braking system fine-tuned for Micah's instincts rather than science.

Julian had drawn it for him — not because it could be built, but because Micah needed it to be.

Now, he was finally making it real.

Behind him, the garage hummed with muted life. Daniel was tinkering with telemetry data, Meredith was barking at someone over the phone about fuel allowances, and Dante was... somewhere. Probably stalking the pit or trying to act busy while pretending he wasn't thinking about Micah.

Micah exhaled and tapped the design tablet. "Let's get to work."

Across the track, inside the sleek glass container that passed for Talon Vortex's lounge, Rai sat on a stool, trying not to tremble.

The man in front of him wasn't one of his coaches. He didn't wear a name tag or team colors. His suit was matte black, his voice oily-smooth.

"Rai." The man said with a business card he never intended Rai to keep, "You've got a real future. But future needs fuel."

"I already have a team." Rai said, voice carefully even.

The man smiled. "Micah Blade? He'll burn out soon. He always does. You don't want to be tied to a relic, do you?"

Rai's hands clenched beneath the table. "I started racing because of him."

"And now's your chance to surpass him. Talon has access to better engines. We can fast-track your F-tier license. One signature, and you'll have your own spotlight."

Rai said nothing.

"Think it over." The man stood. "But hurry. Heroes fade. Winners rise."

He left before Rai could say no.

Micah crouched beside the mock chassis, running his hand across the exposed framework.

Dante crouched beside him. "That your idea of therapy?"

Micah smiled faintly. "Therapy would be quieter. And involve less engine oil."

"You're really building it. The beast, huh?"

Micah nodded. "Julian designed the bones. I'm just giving it muscle."

Dante was quiet for a beat. Then, "He'd be proud."

Micah's throat tightened unexpectedly.

Dante looked around, then said softly, "You okay?"

"No," Micah admitted. "But I will be."

Dante reached for a cloth and wiped grease off Micah's cheek — fingers lingering a second too long. "You don't always have to be steel, you know."

Micah looked at him, eyes flickering. "Yeah, well... sometimes it's the only thing holding me together."

They stayed like that, close, unspeaking. Then someone called from the other side of the garage.

"Micah, we've got engine specs coming through."

Micah stood, stepping back. "Duty calls."

Dante watched him walk away — and realized that, for all Micah's strength, he still carried ghosts with him.

And maybe Dante wanted to help him carry them.

Later that evening, after most of the team had left, Meredith found Daniel sitting alone on the hood of his car, staring at nothing.

"Thinking about sabotage again?" She asked, leaning beside him.

Daniel sighed. "No. Just... how close we came to losing all this. The team. The racing. Micah."

Meredith nodded, arms crossed. "We nearly broke him. You know that, right?"

"I do." Daniel said quietly. "And I don't think he's fully forgiven us. But he's still here. That has to mean something."

She nudged him with her shoulder. "It means you boys better start pulling your weight. He's not going to carry us forever."

Daniel grinned. "Was that a joke?"

"Almost."

They both laughed — not out of amusement, but relief.

They were still here.

Together.

Rai found Micah at his car later that night, long after the tools were packed away.

"I need to ask you something." Rai said, voice taut. "Why did you leave underground racing?"

Micah looked at him, surprised by the directness.

"Because someone died." He answered. "Because I stopped recognizing the person in the mirror."

Rai hesitated. "And now you're back?"

Micah nodded. "Because I finally remembered who I want to be. And who I want to be... racer with people worth protecting."

Rai stared at him, and something in his posture loosened.

"I was approached today. Asked to switch sides."

Micah didn't flinch. "You going to?"

Rai shook his head. "No. I just needed to remember why I started. You helped."

Micah smiled, faint but warm. "Then you're already better than most."

Talon's paddock was cold under the bright halogens. Rai stepped back into the lounge, chin up, pulse unsteady.

The man in the suit was waiting.

"I'm not signing." Rai said before the man could speak.

A pause.

"Don't be foolish."

"I was... tempted." Rai admitted. "But if I'm going to win, I want to win right. And I want to beat Micah fairly. Not by stabbing him in the back."

The man's smile turned brittle. "You don't get far with sentiment."

"Micah Blade did." Rai replied, and left without another word.

He never saw the man pick up his phone, eyes narrowing. "We'll see about that."

The next morning, Zero Eclipse's garage had a different energy — like static before a storm.

The custom prototype sat beneath a silver tarp, humming quietly like it was alive. Engineers flitted around it, checking last-minute calibrations, tire balances, data readings.

Micah watched from a distance, hands on his hips, face unreadable.

Daniel approached, wiping his hands on a rag. "You want the honors?"

Micah nodded and walked forward.

With one motion, he pulled the tarp away.

The garage fell silent.

The car was unlike anything Eclipse had ever produced — sleek, brutal, and unapologetically aggressive. Matte black with crimson under glow, triple wing stabilizers, a rear diffuser designed for chaos.

The name JULIAN was stamped discreetly on the nose cone — not to draw attention, but to never forget.

Dante let out a low whistle. "That's not a car. That's vengeance on wheels."

Micah smirked faintly. "Close. That's freedom."

He walked a slow circle around it, then placed a hand on the hood.

"She's ready."

The track was reserved for a closed mock run. Zero Eclipse had invited a few rival teams for timed laps — unofficial, but telling.

Falcon Apex rolled out their signature high-speed build. Talon Vortex brought out a new dual-torque setup. But all eyes were on Eclipse.

Daniel went first. Solid lap — tight lines, fast exits.

Then Dante. Sharper, more fluid. His time beat Daniel's by two seconds.

Then the beast rolled out.

Micah settled into the cockpit. The seat was tailored to his spine. The pedals to his weight. The interface responded before he touched it.

When the light blinked green, he launched like a shot.

Everyone watching fell silent.

The way he moved — not by the book. He drifted where others braked, skimmed corners where others slowed. The car danced under him, wild but never out of control.

He crossed the line.

Fastest lap by a full six seconds.

The crew exploded in cheers. Even the rival teams stared in stunned silence.

Dante exhaled. "What the hell did I just watch?"

Meredith grinned. "That, boys, is what happens when Micah Blade stops holding back."

Night came slow and soft. Most of the team left for celebratory drinks.

Micah stayed back in the garage, seated on the hood of his new car, gloves tossed beside him.

Dante walked in with two mugs. "Stole coffee from Meredith's stash."

Micah took one with a smirk. "Brave."

They sat in silence, the warmth between them softening.

"You're incredible, you know." Dante said eventually. "I didn't just fall for the racer. I fell for the guy who gave up racing because someone mattered more."

Micah looked at him, startled.

Dante shrugged. "I just... wanted to say that before I chickened out."

Micah's voice was quiet. "You didn't chicken out."

There was a beat.

Then Dante leaned in, slow, giving Micah time to pull away.

Micah didn't.

Their lips met — soft, brief, but real. Like ignition. Like a promise of something more waiting behind the curtain of fire and grief.

When they parted, Dante didn't move back far. "That okay?"

Micah gave a small, breathless laugh. "More than okay."

Across the lot, Meredith and Daniel stood near the van, watching the tail end of that kiss.

Daniel smirked. "Finally."

Meredith elbowed him. "Took them long enough."

Daniel exhaled, then looked at her. "You ever think about what this team would've been like if we hadn't screwed up?"

Meredith turned toward him. "We're still building it. Every day. The difference is, we're not alone anymore."

Daniel smiled, soft. "You're the real beast, you know that?"

"Don't make me throw a wrench at you."

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