AHHHHHHHH…WORD! City never sleeps. Neon glows off wet asphalt, engines screaming, tires hissing. I grip the wheel, feeling every vibration, every heartbeat of this street. Wings twitch beneath my jacket, horns glint in neon streaks.
Tavio leans over, smirking, "AHHHHHHH…you sure you're ready for this, Ryden?" I snort, "WORD! Streets gonna remember my name tonight."
The first rival slides out of the shadows—blacked-out ride, engine growling like a beast. I stomp the gas. Tires scream. Rain sprays in arcs, neon reflecting off puddles. First move: chain bursts from my undercarriage, snapping toward his wheel. Sparks fly.
The car flips, metal screams, fire bursts. Other racers swerve, trying to dodge debris. Adrenaline spikes. My hybrid reflexes kick in, wings flaring for micro-bursts of speed. Horns catch light. I drift through chaos, laughing, "AHHHHHH…WORD! Didn't see that coming, huh?"
Rivals regroup, eyes wide. City hums around us—hydrants, poles, neon signs—they're all part of the race now. Heart pounding, engine roaring, I know the streets are mine tonight.