That is All I Ask For: Chapter 20: Engines of Reckoning
The stadium was louder than it
had ever been.
A sea of lights. Tens of
thousands of fans, each heartbeat synchronized to the pulse of the engines.
Flags bearing the names of giants waved in the breeze, but none more than the
black-and-silver phoenix that now symbolized the unstoppable rise of Zero Eclipse.
Dante stood on the edge of the
pit lane, helmet under one arm, staring at the grandstands. He saw them — fans
holding up signs:
"Blade of the
Underground"
"Dante & Micah — Ride or Die"
"Let Rai Fly"
"Daniel, Strategist of Speed"
He smiled. For the first time, it
didn't feel like the crowd wanted a show — it felt like they wanted them.
Inside the garage, Micah
tightened the strap on his gloves, his hands steady even as the world roared
outside.
Meredith approached with a
Sharpie and the custom carbon-fiber steering wheel for his race car.
"Thought you might want to
do the honors." She said, handing him the marker.
Micah raised an eyebrow.
"You brought it back."
"I told you we'd need it one
day."
He crouched beside the steering
wheel and wrote in clean, deliberate strokes:
What we rebuild, they can't burn.
He looked up at her and added,
"That's the truth, isn't it?"
Meredith didn't smile — she
nodded, fiercely. "That's the war cry."
The four Zero Eclipse racers
lined up in their cars. Dante in Lane 3. Rai in Lane 6. Daniel in Lane 5.
Micah, anchoring them, in Lane 2.
Across from them: Talon Vortex.
All aggression, slick chrome finishes, and cold smirks.
Micah scanned the Talon lineup
and narrowed his eyes at the lead driver — a man named Kaze Harrow. Ruthless.
Mechanical. Unflinching. The kind of racer who didn't race to win — he raced to
break you.
Micah's earpiece clicked on.
"Micah." Meredith's
voice came through. "They're going to come at us with everything. And
probably cheat while they're at it."
"Let them." Micah
replied. "We've got something they don't."
"What's that?"
"Each other."
Engines howled in harmony.
Five lights. Four. Three. Two.
One.
Green.
The launch was explosive. Talon
Vortex surged forward with insane torque, almost like they jumped the light.
But Zero Eclipse stayed tight — Daniel took a defensive line while Rai and
Dante mirrored each other in a double-parallel sweep around the first curve.
Micah stayed behind, watching.
Calculating. Letting them make the first mistake.
He didn't have to wait long.
Lap 2.
Daniel's telemetry began spiking
— red flags on coolant temperature, oil pressure, even fuel intake
irregularities.
"Meredith, something's wrong
with Daniel's system." Micah said calmly.
"Confirmed. Those spikes
aren't real. Someone's feeding ghost data into his diagnostics." Meredith
replied. "If he panics, he'll pit unnecessarily."
Micah flicked channels.
"Daniel — it's fake. Don't
pit. Stay with me."
"Are you sure? The engine
warning's red—"
"Trust me."
A pause.
Then Daniel's voice, shaky but
determined: "Copy that. Staying on the line."
Micah smiled faintly. That's one
bullet dodged.
Lap 4.
Kaze Harrow took the inside line
near a bottleneck curve — dangerous. Rai was slightly ahead, but Kaze made a
sudden juke, attempting to spin him out with a tap to the rear fender.
Micah saw it coming.
"Rai — outside cut.
Now."
"Copy."
Rai executed a perfect
counter—braking a split-second early and slingshotting around the outside,
avoiding the hit completely and passing both Kaze and his wingman.
The audience erupted.
Dante laughed into the comms.
"That's my boy."
Meredith? She was already
adjusting strategies in real-time, deploying what they'd codenamed Skyfall — a
reactive formation system built to counter AI-driven patterns from teams like
Talon.
The stadium lights cast long
shadows across the track. Lap 6 roared into existence, tires carving flame
lines into asphalt.
Micah's dashboard pulsed with
data — his line was clean, balanced, efficient. But it wasn't just about
winning. Not today.
This was about proving that the
fire they'd built couldn't be extinguished.
Daniel was still riding high from
the earlier sabotage scare. But now Talon's rear driver was tailing him
aggressively, brake-checking him on straights and cutting corners tighter than
regulations allowed.
"Micah—he's trying to force
me wide."
"Hold your nerve."
Micah replied. "Don't let him dictate your pace."
"I'm not like you."
"No." Micah said.
"You're smarter. So let him be the brute. You be the blade."
Daniel exhaled slowly, adjusted
his line mid-curve, and the Talon car overshot, tires screeching. Daniel
slipped back inside clean.
"Now that," Meredith
grinned in the control tent, "is the Daniel I know."
Kaze Harrow and his team were
relentless.
Rai began receiving erratic
traction warnings — this time not fake. He pinged back on comms.
"Guys, my left rear's gone
slick. Like... way too fast."
Meredith pulled up his car
diagnostics. "You've got oil on the tread. That shouldn't be possible.
Unless—"
Micah's voice cut in sharply.
"They tagged your undercarriage."
"They what?"
"A spray rig. Illegal mod.
It dumps slick oil on your tire in contact. Only works if you get close
enough."
Dante swore. "That's a death
trap."
Meredith was already reporting
it. "They'll be disqualified after review. But not if we don't
finish."
Micah's voice came through again.
"Rai. You want to prove you
belong here?"
"Always."
"Then fly, Falcon. Find your
wings."
Rai's silence was brief.
Then—"Copy."
He adjusted his weight, shifted
traction manually, and changed his entry angle on each turn. The maneuver was
unorthodox — borderline reckless.
But elegant.
The car shimmered in the
floodlights, dancing across the edge of control. Fans surged to their feet as
Rai held his line and pulled ahead again — despite the sabotage.
Commentators erupted.
"Rai Jason is holding third
despite illegal tampering—what are we seeing?"
"We're seeing someone refuse
to be broken."
Micah, watching from his
position, couldn't help but smile.
He's ready.
Lap 9.
Micah had stayed quiet.
Watching. Tracking. Holding back
the predator inside.
But now?
It was time.
He shifted gears, tore into a
double hairpin, and sliced past Talon's third driver like they were standing
still. Fans screamed. His car moved like it wasn't bound by physics — just fury
and finesse.
Meredith grinned. "He's done
playing nice."
Micah's voice echoed across the
comms. "I'm going for the lead."
Dante: "Need backup?"
Micah: "No. Just keep them
off Rai."
The battle between Micah and Kaze
ignited like dry grass to a flame.
Kaze saw Micah coming and shifted
hard into defense. Micah responded with his own mind games — feints, brake
baits, invisible lines.
It became a dance.
Lap 10.
Final turn.
Micah whispered through comms,
"Let's end this."
He dove inside, baited Kaze into
a late block, then rotated mid-turn — pulling a legendary drift maneuver from
his underground days.
He cleared the line first.
Rai came in second.
Dante and Daniel followed — 4th
and 5th, securing Zero Eclipse's placement in the top tier of points.
The crowd exploded.
Fireworks detonated.
Zero Eclipse had beaten Talon
Vortex.
As Micah pulled into the garage,
fans were chanting.
"ECLIPSE! ECLIPSE!"
The team gathered around the cars
— sweaty, breathless, triumphant.
Micah stepped out of the vehicle,
looked at his steering wheel, and traced the words with one glove:
What we rebuild, they can't burn.
Dante approached, took off his
helmet, and grinned.
"You were insane out
there."
Micah smirked. "I was just
being myself."
Dante leaned in, voice low.
"Remind me to never race you for pink slips."
"Remind me to teach you how
to drift like that."
They laughed. Not just teammates
— something more.
The noise from the stands hadn't
settled, not even as the sun dipped below the horizon and the victory ceremony
began.
Zero Eclipse had done more than
win.
They had stunned the racing world.
In the aftermath of the race, the
stands transformed into a symphony of devotion.
Banners unfurled from balconies,
now reading:
"Micah Blade —
Unbreakable"
"Rai Soars. Rai Wins."
"Zero Eclipse: Born in Ash, Rising in Fire."
Dante spotted one banner that
made him laugh softly. It read:
"Micah, Will You Marry
Me?"
Micah, standing next to him,
rolled his eyes. "I leave the track for a few years, and this is what I
get."
Dante smirked. "Jealous? I
haven't gotten a single marriage proposal."
"You're welcome." Micah
shot back. "I saved you from that kind of devotion."
Meredith shoved between them,
clapping Rai hard on the back. "Star of the race, baby. You earned
it."
Rai, red-faced and grinning like
a kid on Christmas, just nodded. "I didn't crash. That's my win."
"Under oil sabotage and you
still came second." Daniel said. "That's not just not crashing.
That's brilliance."
Rai looked around at the team,
breathing deeply, drinking in the moment. "Thank you... all of you. For
not giving up on me."
Micah gave him a slow nod.
"You didn't just prove yourself, Rai. You made this race."
Back in the strategy room,
journalists were already quoting her on interviews, praising her mid-race AI
overrides and the Skyfall Formation.
One clip made rounds on social
media where she said:
"They came at us like we
were weak.
They didn't realize we were forged in fire."
Fans called her The Strategist
General.
Someone edited fanart of her with chess pieces and a flaming pit board.
Daniel chuckled. "I think
you've reached myth status."
Meredith deadpanned.
"Finally. About damn time."
Elsewhere, in the high-rise
office of Adam Shade, a glass of untouched whiskey sat warming beside an array
of monitors.
His assistant stood stiffly.
"They beat Vortex. Clean. Rai Jason survived the oil rig trap."
Adam said nothing.
The screen showed Micah's drift
replaying on loop. Behind him, the footage of Rai's counter-maneuver and
Dante's post-race smile.
"Blade..." He muttered,
more to himself. "You're far too dangerous to stay in the shadows."
He turned slowly toward a folder
stamped confidential.
Inside were schematics, names,
and dossiers.
PHASE TWO: SHATTER THE CORE.
He closed the folder. "Let's
see what happens when we shake the roots."
Later that night, as the garage
emptied and reporters dispersed, Micah lingered by his car. The sky was awash
with stars, soft and silent — a stark contrast to the noise earlier.
Dante approached, slower than
usual.
"Hey."
Micah glanced sideways.
"Hey."
They stood in silence for a
moment before Dante added, "You saved this team. Again."
"We all did."
"No." Dante said,
turning to face him, "You did. Rai followed your call. Daniel found his
courage. Meredith was fighting because she believed in what you built."
Micah folded his arms, guarded.
"And what about you?"
Dante hesitated. Then—softly,
"I followed my heart. And it still points to you."
Micah's breath caught, his mouth
opening slightly. He looked down at the track, then back at Dante. "You're
not playing fair."
"I'm not trying to."
Dante said, stepping closer. "We nearly lost you. And I realized... I
can't stand on that podium without you beside me."
Micah blinked hard. His voice
wavered. "You hurt me, Dante. When you believed them... when you didn't
listen."
"I know." Dante's hand
brushed against Micah's. "And I'll keep trying to earn back your trust.
One race at a time."
Micah didn't move. Then — slowly
— he leaned in, their foreheads nearly touching.
The silence said more than words.
And then — just briefly — a kiss.
Quiet. Soft. The kind that asks, "Can we begin again?"
When they pulled apart, Micah
looked him in the eye.
"We're not out of the woods
yet."
"I know." Dante
whispered, "But at least now, we're walking through it together."
Back in the garage, the final
engine cooled.
On Micah's steering wheel, the
ink had smudged slightly from the heat of the race.
But the words were still there.
What we rebuild, they can't burn.
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