That is All I Ask For: Chapter 20: Engines of Reckoning

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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.

And the world had just seen proof.



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