The night split open with the scream of an engine.
A motorcycle tore down the fractured streets of the cities rebel side, neon signs and half-dead streetlights blurring into streaks of color behind him. His tires screeched around a corner, rubber burning against cracked pavement. The rider leaned low, his black hoodie flopping in the wind like wings. Behind him, three police cruisers thundered in pursuit, sirens wailing, their blue and red lights slashing across the walls of abandoned buildings.
"Eyes on him!" one officer shouted over the radio. "It's him, it's Night Rider!"
The name alone was enough to spike adrenaline. In this city, Night Rider wasn't just a fugitive. He was a ghost, a fairytale, and also a warning. Some said he'd shut down whole squads of cops by himself. Others swore he was just a kid playing outlaw. But tonight, he was very real, and he was untouchable.
The rider cut sharply into an alley so narrow the cruisers nearly clipped the walls trying to follow. Sparks spat as a car scraped it's side mirror. Night Rider didn't look back. He gunned the throttle and shot out onto a main road, swerving between traffic like water finding cracks in stone.
The cops tried to match his moves. They couldn't.
One car fishtailed, smashing into vendor's stall. Another clipped the back of a delivery truck, glass exploding across the street. The last cruiser pressed harder, headlights locked on Night Rider, desperate not to lose him.
The rider shifted gears, leaned forward, and whispered something only he could hear, "Not tonight boys."
He braked hard. Tires screamed. The bike spun a perfect circle, smoke curling around him as if the shadows themselves obeyed. The cruiser barreled forward, too fast to stop. In one smooth motion, Night Rider swerved aside.
The police car crashed into a barricade with a metallic howl.
By the time the officers stumbled out, coughing through air thick with dust and smoke, Night Rider was already gone, swallowed back into the maze of the city.
Morning came with none of the thrill. the rebel side faded back into cracked sidewalks and old brick. The protected side gleamed as though nothing had happened.
For Eli Mercer, today was his first step into that world.
He adjusted his new uniform in front of the mirror inside the station's bathroom. The badge on his chest gleamed, almost too bright for someone like him. His hair was a little messy, his smile a little too wide, but the spark in his eyes was genuine.
"First day," he whispered to himself, trying to sound confident. "Don't screw this up."
When he walked into the main room of the precinct, the mood smothered him. It wasn't excitement or unity like he had imagined. Officers leaned back into their chairs, laughing too loudly, trading stories about raids. The walls smelled faintly of smoke and coffee gone cold. Nobody greeted him right away.
"Fresh meat," someone muttered.
Eli cleared his throat. "Um- Intern Mercer, reporting for duty."
A couple of the older officers glanced at him, uninterested. One barked out a laugh. "You hear that? Kid thinks this is the academy."
Eli sat down at a desk near the back, feeling eyes on him. He told himself not to mind it. His father was the chief, and he had insisted that this was good for him. See the job from the ground up, he'd said. Learn the system.
But sitting here, Eli wasn't so sure the system was what he thought.
That's when he noticed an officer at the far end of the room.
While the others joked or shuffled papers, he didn't move. A tall guy, darkish-brown hair, sharp jaw, leaning in his chair like he owned the place. His eyes flicked briefly toward Eli before turning back to the folder in his hands.
Something about him was different from everyone else.
"Hey Kai," another officer called, tossing a folder across the table. The man caught it without even looking.
Kai, Eli repeated in his head. There was an edge to him, like the room bent around his silence.
The day passed in a blur on introductions, paperwork, and Eli trying not to mess up. He learned the routes, the rules, the unspoken lines no one crossed. Everyone whispered about Night Rider. About how he'd humiliated officers, outmaneuvered them, outsmarted them. About how someone need to bring him down.
Eli couldn't help but wonder, maybe he could be part of that. Maybe he could make a difference
A few days past of the same thing over and over again. Until "Hey, rookie."
Eli turned. It was Kai, after looking at him better Eli realized, he's about the same age as him.
"You look lost already," Kai said, grinning. "Don't tell me you wanna quit already?, we just started."
"I'm not lost," Eli shot back, a little too quickly. "I'm still getting used to this place."
Kai chuckled, dropping his boots to the floor and standing. He had a lazy confidence in the way he moved, hands shoved in his pockets as he strolled over. "I'm Kai. I'd say welcome, but..." he gestured vaguely toward the clusters of desks where two officers were yelling over a report. "Well, this place doesn't really do 'welcomes."
Before Eli could ask what that meant, Kai leaned closer and lowered his voice like he was sharing a secret.
"First tip. If anyone asks you to grab coffee, don't. That's a trap. You're gonna be the coffee kid until you retire."
Eli frowned, half-amused. "And what if they ask me nicely?"
"Then it's a bigger trap," Kai said with a mock seriousness. "You'll learn. Survive the first week, and maybe I'll teach you my ways." He said in a unserious tone.
Eli gave him a skeptical look. "That doesn't sound very professional."
Kai looked at him. "Really man, I'm just trying to not get judged here. Anyways I'll talk to you later."
For a moment, Eli wasn't sure if Kai was joking or not. He also didn't know yet that Kai was probably the only normal person he would meet here, and.. one of his closest friends he'd make.
That night, on the other side of the city, a motorcycle engine roared low through the streets.
From the shadows a half-collapsed overpass, the figure known only as Night Rider to most, watched as police patrols shifted their routes, radios crackling faintly in the distance. His helmet reflected in the faint glow of streetlights, hiding everything except the silence of his stare.
Checking the watch strapped over his glove. "2 months and the boards flip."
The city doesn't know it yet, but something was coming. And Night Rider was already moving the pieces.
With a sharp twist of the throttle, he vanished into the night.