Tyres screamed against wet asphalt as a stolen black sedan tore through the streets of Bucharest. The car fishtailed around a corner, barely missing a concrete divider before straightening again - if it could be called straight. The front bumper was gone, one side was scraped raw, and smoke hissed from under the hood.
Inside, chaos reigned.
"Sven!!!"
"Just relax," he yelled back, grinning like a maniac. His hands danced across the steering wheel, spinning it just in time to dodge a truck. "You're supposed to phase us through things, Isaac, not panic like a grandma in rush hour!"
From the back seat, Isaac looked seconds away from strangling him - if his one good arm wasn't gripping the door handle for dear life. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his normally calm composure was cracking fast.
"I am phasing us through things!" he barked, voice tight. "You keep turning without warning! I can't phase us through something I don't see coming-"
