The dawn didn't feel real.
The sky hung low and pale, as if the city itself hadn't decided whether to wake up or stay in the dark.
Steam rose from Valdora's wounds—burned streets, melted neon, shattered circuits that once pulsed with artificial life. Omega and Rhea's RX-9 stood side by side at the edge of the skyline bridge, their engines breathing softly like two beasts catching their breath after a war.
Marcel leaned on Omega's hood, eyes scanning the distance.
The silence was heavy, but beneath it… something hummed. A faint vibration in the ground, deep and rhythmic. Like a heartbeat.
Rhea walked up beside him. "You hear it too?"
He nodded. "The city's still alive. But it's quieter now… like it's listening."
Rhea pulled a data chip from her pocket—the same one she'd ripped from an enemy drone hours ago. "I ran diagnostics while you were unconscious. It's not a map." She looked up, eyes narrowing. "It's a track layout."
Marcel's expression hardened.
"You're telling me there's another race?"
Rhea's tone dropped low. "Not a race. A ritual."
She placed the chip into Omega's console. Immediately, the screens glitched and reformatted into a single symbol: two infinity loops intertwined, glowing blood-red. Beneath it, the words burned across the dash:
REQUlEM CIRCUIT: INITIATION DETECTED.
Omega's systems flickered wildly. The engine pulsed once—twice—and then the HUD displayed a location: Sector Zero.
Marcel froze. "That's where the Rift began."
Rhea's voice was barely a whisper. "And where it ends."
The city lights around them dimmed. Drones rose from the shadows, dozens of them, circling like vultures but not attacking—just watching.
Then, a voice echoed through the air again. Not through speakers. Through the metal, through the engines, through the code.
"Welcome, drivers," said The Architect, calm and hollow.
"The Driftforce began as a rebellion. Now it ends as evolution."
Every light in Valdora flared crimson. Roads reconfigured, rails shifted, and the skyline began to move. Buildings twisted, aligning into spiraling paths that formed a monstrous track above the city—a glowing labyrinth of energy and gravity, spinning around the central tower.
Rhea gasped. "He's building it in real-time."
Marcel clenched his fists. "He wants us to finish his design."
"Two drivers," The Architect continued. "One city. One final drift. The winner reclaims the code. The loser becomes part of it."
Rhea turned to Marcel. "You know what that means."
He nodded.
If they lost, they wouldn't just die. They'd become data.
Omega's lights glowed brighter, the Driftcore responding to Marcel's pulse like a living creature ready to fight. He climbed into the driver's seat and looked at Rhea.
"Ready to burn the sky one last time?"
Rhea smiled, fire in her eyes. "You drift. I'll follow."
Engines ignited.
The Requiem Circuit roared to life—a track of fire, glass, and light spiraling upward through the clouds.
The countdown began.
3.
2.
1.
Throttle down.
Omega and RX-9 shot forward, merging into the twisting current of the Requiem Circuit. Gravity bent. Time fractured. The city screamed.
And in that infinite drift through chaos and creation, Marcel understood—
this wasn't a race against The Architect.
It was a race against destiny itself.