That is All I Ask For: Chapter 9: Smoke Before the Storm

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The days after the Ember Trials settled into something like peace—but it was an uneasy, watchful kind of peace, like the air before a monsoon. The garage still hummed with activity: tools clanged, engines revved in short bursts, and the smell of oil lingered in every corner. But beneath it all, a new tension threaded the team together, a mix of curiosity, healing, and something darker none of them were ready to name.

Micah Blade—no longer hiding under the name Micah Slade—had stayed true to his word. He arrived early, helped with tune-ups, made coffee, and never once used his status as the Eclipse Group CEO to separate himself from the others. He was trying. Really trying. And most of the team had responded.

Juno was the first to accept him openly. He was used to change, perhaps too used to people revealing unexpected depths. "You could've just told us, you know." He teased one morning as he handed Micah a wrench. "But then again, dramatic reveals are kind of your thing."

Silas was harder to reach. The quiet, blunt-tongued mechanic didn't speak much to begin with, but ever since the reveal, he'd been curt, short, distant. He followed instructions, offered opinions, but the camaraderie they had been building was gone.

Micah noticed. But he didn't push. Instead, he followed through on something Dante had told him in passing: "If you want us to trust you, lead us."

So he did.

One scorching afternoon, with the heat pushing 40 degrees and tempers running high, Micah proposed a training drill—a complex, endurance-based circuit combining mechanical failures, strategy, and raw driving skill. It was something they'd never done before, and even Dante raised an eyebrow.

"You're sure you want to run it?"

"I am." Micah said. "Let me show you I'm not just the guy who signs your paychecks."

They ran the drills hard. Micah took the lead, barking instructions, improvising under pressure, calling for on-the-fly repairs. He worked beside Silas in the pit, challenging Juno's mechanical tweaks, running lap reviews with Dante without flinching. But when Silas snapped during a particularly tense run—"Easy to lead when you've got millions to fall back on!"—the garage froze.

Micah didn't retaliate. He met Silas' glare, voice low and even. "I walked away from that money to be here. I didn't come back to race because I missed winning. I came back because I missed being part of something real."

Silas hesitated, and for the first time, nodded—just once. It wasn't forgiveness, but it was something.

After that, even Dante admitted, quietly, "You're making progress."

In the quiet evenings after the drills, the emotional threads of the team slowly began to weave back together.

Daniel and Meredith had begun speaking again—softly, cautiously. Working on the same car, their hands often touched over bolts or tools, but they didn't pull away anymore. One night, while tightening a suspension line together, Daniel finally said, "I don't want to lose you. But I want the truth from now on."

Meredith paused, eyes shining in the dim garage lights. "Then let's build something new. Together."

Micah, watching from across the garage, felt something in him ease.

Dante and Micah also shared more moments alone—unspoken apologies, unspoken hopes. They shared old race videos on the projector, compared notes, argued over throttle control. One evening, Micah handed Dante a bottle of water and said, "I used to watch you from the sidelines and think, 'If I ever come back, it'll be beside him.'"

Dante didn't respond immediately. But he didn't walk away either.

"You did come back." He finally said. "Now prove you want to stay."

But peace never lasted long in their world.

A week after the Ember Trials, a sleek black envelope arrived at the garage—no return address, no logo. Just a wax seal of a flaming tire.

Inside: a challenge from a crew called Dark Phantom, known in the underground for brutal racing, illegal mods, and zero moral code.

Their message was brief:

"We heard the Blade's back. Let's see if he can finish what he ran from."

Attached was a race date, track location, and entry list. Only one name from Zero Eclipse had been invited.

Dante.

The implication was clear. The same tactic Astral tried—separate the leader. Target the team's heart.

Micah stared at the letter, jaw tight.

"They want to break us." Dante said, holding the paper with a dangerous calm.

"Then they'll have to go through me first." Micah replied.

Meanwhile, Meredith pulled Micah aside that night.

"You think this is just another test, but it's not." She said. "Dark Phantom was there that night. Your last night racing before you disappeared."

Micah stilled. "I know."

"If you want to keep Dante... you'll have to face what you ran from."

She handed him something wrapped in cloth. Inside: a photo from years ago. A broken-down track. A young racer—Micah—kneeling beside another man, covered in blood. Micah's old rival.

"You never told him the truth." Meredith whispered.

"I couldn't." Micah said. "Not yet."

The race day arrived. The track was packed. The air was charged.

Dante arrived in his signature black-red combo, but as the announcers began listing names, the crowd erupted.

Blade had arrived.

Micah, dressed in his old gear, walked across the track like a ghost returned. The crowd fell silent as Dark Phantom's crew turned to see him. Their leader—a tall racer named Vex—froze.

"I thought you were done." Vex sneered.

"I was." Micah replied. "But you went after my team."

Micah entered the race—not as a stand-in, but as Dante's shadow. Every heat, every corner, Micah guarded him. When Vex tried a dirty trick, Micah boxed him out. When sabotage came, Micah countered. Dante pushed harder, trusting that Micah would always be behind him.

They reached the finals. One last lap. Dante led. Vex behind him. But then, from the side lane, Vex slammed toward Dante's rear.

Micah roared past, taking the hit instead.

The move sent Vex spiraling into the wall, car smoking.

Micah's car limped over the finish line beside Dante's.

They'd won.

But more importantly—they'd survived.

After the race, the team gathered in the dim light of the pit, adrenaline still crackling in the air.

Before Micah could speak, Meredith stepped forward, addressing the group.

"You all deserve to know the full truth." She said. "This wasn't just about a race. Vex was there the night Micah left everything behind. That race... it wasn't just the end of his career. It was the end of a friendship. A betrayal. A fight over the very reason Micah came back."

The team looked around, confused.

Then Micah stepped up beside her, nodding. He pulled Dante aside, his face unreadable. "There's something I never told you." He said. "About Vex."

Dante raised an eyebrow. "You knew him?"

Micah nodded. "We were friends once. Rivals, too. Back in the day, we raced together all the time. We pushed each other to be better. But then..."

His voice faltered.

"We fell for the same person."

Dante went still.

"You."

Micah's eyes held no hesitation now. "He figured it out before I did. I never told you, never had the courage. He hated that I got close to you—even from a distance. That race, the one Meredith mentioned... it ended badly because Vex sabotaged me and another person. And I—" he exhaled, "I retaliated. Then, I disappeared."

"And now he's back." Dante murmured.

"He never stopped hating me." Micah said. "But I won't let him touch you. I won't let him touch this team."

Dante stared at him, then slowly nodded. "You already didn't."

Micah looked down, almost ashamed. "I'm not proud of who I was. But I am proud of who I'm trying to become."

"You're already there." Dante said. "We just need time. To figure out the rest."

Micah smiled faintly. "Then let's take that time. Together."

Later that night, Micah and Dante gathered the team around the garage bench.

"I need to ask you all something." Micah began. "Now that everything's out in the open... do you still want me here?"

Juno and Silas exchanged a look.

Juno was the first to speak. "You've earned your place. But we've got a real shot now. Dark Phantom won't stop. The tournaments are coming. If things get worse... will we survive it?"

Silas crossed his arms. "He's right. This team's the closest thing we've had to a future. We can't throw it away chasing ghosts."

Daniel leaned forward. "But we're stronger with Micah. You saw it today. He's not a ghost—he's one of us."

Dante turned to them. "I want him here. Not just as a racer. But because he's part of this family now."

The garage fell silent.

Finally, Juno sighed. "Then we do this. All of us. Together."

And that was the answer Micah had been waiting for.

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