The world bent into a spiral of light and death.
Valdora was gone—replaced by a cathedral of motion. The Requiem Circuit stretched across the clouds, a twisting infinity loop woven from broken roads, suspended bridges, and shards of pure energy. Every curve was alive with static and memory. Every turn whispered names of racers long erased.
Omega's engine howled against the impossible gravity, tires cutting trails of blue fire. Rhea's RX-9 followed tight on his six, her red streak flickering like a pulse through the storm.
Ahead—an apparition.A car unlike any built by human hands. Black chrome, shifting geometry, lines bending and unbending like a heartbeat rendered in steel.
The Architect's Avatar Drive.
Marcel's grip tightened on the wheel. "So that's you in the flesh."
The voice replied from everywhere.
"In code, not flesh. You've driven through my arteries. Now reach for my heart."
Omega's systems flared red as energy bolts shot past. The Architect's car warped through reality, teleporting short distances, leaving trails of light that folded back on themselves.
Rhea's voice crackled. "He's bending the track!"
"Then we bend it harder." Marcel downshifted, sparks lighting up under the tires. Omega drifted sideways on a curve that shouldn't exist—half upside down, half vertical, pure instinct holding it steady.
Rhea matched his motion perfectly, the two cars slicing a synchronized infinity across the loop. The Architect's voice grew louder, distorted.
"You cannot outdrive the system that built you."
Marcel smirked through gritted teeth. "Then I'll rewrite it."
He triggered the Driftcore Overload.Omega's entire frame pulsed with electric blue veins; holographic fragments of the Phantom Unit's data burst out and circled around him. The car screamed—a living storm on wheels.
The Architect's car appeared beside him, inches away, both vehicles mirror-matching at 500 kilometers per hour. The sound was beyond mechanical—it was cosmic thunder.
Marcel saw his reflection in the Architect's windshield—not code, not a face, but his brother Adrian staring back.
The shock hit like a crash. "Adrian…?"
"You kept driving when I stopped," the voice said, softer now. "You became what I couldn't."
Omega trembled. The HUD flashed warnings—system collapse imminent. Rhea shouted through static, "Marcel! If you keep the Overload running, you'll burn out with him!"
He didn't reply.
The Architect's car pulled ahead slightly, trails of light swirling around its frame. The Requiem Circuit began to collapse—the entire sky turning into a swirling drain of color and chaos.
Marcel's heartbeat synced with the engine.The world shrank to a single sound: the roar of the drift.
He whispered, "For you, Adrian."
He hit the final gear.
Omega exploded forward, pure velocity tearing the air apart. Marcel cut the brake, spun into the perfect drift, and slammed side-first into the Architect's car.
Light consumed everything.
For a heartbeat, the two cars merged—code, memory, soul—and then split. The Architect's car disintegrated into streaks of white. Omega burst free, tumbling through the storm as the track shattered behind him.
Rhea caught the tailspin, her RX-9 locking with Omega's frame, both cars tethered by sparks and gravity. "You're not dying on me again, Kade!"
The two machines fell through the sky, engines roaring defiance as the Requiem Circuit collapsed into a burning halo above Valdora.
Then—silence.
They landed hard, skidding through dust and debris until the engines died.
The sky was clear.The city… peaceful.
Marcel stepped out, his body trembling, but alive. Omega's core light faded softly to white—a final pulse before quiet.
Rhea limped toward him, smiling through the exhaustion. "You did it."
Marcel looked up at the dawn, a faint smile breaking through the grime."No," he said. "We did."
And for the first time, there was no roar, no chase, no code—just wind, sunrise, and the ghosts of a thousand drifts fading into history.