Lake Erie — one of North America's Great Lakes and the 13th largest lake in the world.
Its name comes from the Erie tribe of Native Americans who once lived along its southern shores.
The lake lies between the United States and Canada, stretching 388 kilometers east to west and up to 92 kilometers wide, covering an area of 25,700 square kilometers.
It's the shallowest of the Great Lakes — an average depth of only 18 meters, and a maximum of 64.
Its shoreline runs nearly 1,200 kilometers, smooth and straight, with most islands clustered toward the western end — the largest being Pelee Island, on the Canadian side.
Leon wasn't planning to jump the widest part of the lake, but even the shortest section he'd chosen spanned thirty to forty kilometers —
And if all he wanted was to "fly across a bridge," that would be a tragic waste of a wingsuit-equipped hypercar.
Up above, a helicopter was tracking Leon's every move.
Inside sat Trissy, the glamorous reporter from NMSL News Network.
Her voice came alive through the broadcast:
"Hello everyone! It's Trissy again — live on scene with NMSL News! Your favorite reporter is back!"
She had rushed all the way to the East Coast the moment she heard Leon was racing there —
pulling every string possible to get clearance for this live chase broadcast.
While every other news station was covering East Coast racers, Trissy — a proud West Coast reporter — had eyes only for Leon.
The last time she tried to invite him to dinner, he'd politely declined.
But that rejection only fueled her obsession.
Now she'd followed him across the country, determined not to miss a single second.
"The Free Legion's moves have been suspicious lately," Trissy said heatedly.
"They seem to be targeting Leon specifically! Is this some kind of East vs. West provocation? A civil split in the making?"
Her dramatic words immediately set social media on fire.
In the U.S., anything involving race, division, or political splits was like tossing a lit match into a gasoline pool.
The moment she said it, Leon's fans erupted online:
"What the hell?! Is this guy trying to start a civil war?!"
"White supremacy already caused enough bloodshed — now this?! He'll ruin the whole damn country!"
"I heard he's actually the best Chinese spy we've ever seen!"
"Touch our West Coast Car God, and I swear I'll go ballistic!"
The ratings skyrocketed — 1% viewership within minutes, and still climbing.
But Trissy frowned.
"Wait… why isn't Leon forcing his way past the checkpoint?"
Her camera feed showed Leon slowing down and turning around.
What was he planning?
Then — from behind — came the SSC Tuatara, roaring closer.
Trailing it, a sleek Aston Martin Vulcan, Bond's signature beast.
And right behind that, a Lamborghini Aventador S, its V12 screaming like an operatic tenor at full throttle.
The driver of the Aventador?
Dominic Toretto.
He had slipped onto the East Coast quietly, waiting for the right moment to reclaim the spotlight.
Leon's fame had burned too bright lately, and Dom wanted a rematch — a real one.
When he saw Leon suddenly reverse direction, Dom frowned.
"What the hell is he doing?"
Up in the sky, Benny — piloting another helicopter — chimed in over the comms.
"Yo, uh… problem. Big problem. The front bridge checkpoint's been blown up — they've set up heavy artillery. It's a no-go."
"Damn it!" Tobey slammed the brakes.
The SSC screeched, sliding dozens of meters before stopping.
Behind him, both the Aston and Lambo narrowly avoided collision, fishtailing hard before regaining control.
The driver of the Aston — James — gave Dom a cold smirk.
"So this is your West Coast 'Car God'? Pathetic."
Tobey's face darkened.
If the bridge was out, the only alternative was a detour — a long one, dozens of kilometers more.
And that would cost precious time.
Then it hit him.
"Wait — where's Leon?!"
Benny's voice came through again, half-shocked, half-panicked.
"He's… uh… climbing the mountain?"
"What?!" Tobey's heart skipped a beat.
He looked up — a sheer 100-meter cliff loomed ahead.
No way.
He wouldn't…
But he did.
Trissy's voice went shrill as her helicopter camera zoomed in.
"He's going up the cliff — is he trying to jump it?!"
Her crimson lips went pale. Even the cameraman gasped and locked focus on Leon's car — the Diomas Nilo.
The crowd watching live collectively stopped breathing.
Was he insane?!
That cliff was suicide!
Across the nation, TV screens filled with messages:
"No way he makes that!"
"Holy crap, he's really doing it!"
"If he survives, I'm naming my kid Leon!"
Trissy's viewership surged — 6% and climbing fast.
She was trembling with adrenaline, barely able to keep her voice steady.
"He can do it. I know he can do it. COME ON, LEON!"
"Fly, you beautiful madman!"
"If you make it, I'll finally buy you dinner!"
Every eye in America was glued to that screen.
Inside the car, Leon was unnervingly calm.
"Open the nitrous. Max output."
Eight fiery exhaust jets erupted behind the Nilo like dragons unleashed.
Since upgrading to a plasma-fusion engine, the flames burned brighter, hotter — wilder.
The ground behind him blackened instantly, grass and asphalt turned to molten ash.
The G-forces pressed him into his seat as the speedometer needle buried itself past the redline.
He grinned.
His blood sang.
This was the edge between life and legend.
"Let's fly."
With a thunderous roar, the Diomas launched off the cliff.
The tail flames carved the air into a fiery storm.
"Deploy wings."
Two side panels unfolded — sleek, metallic, aerodynamic.
The car transformed midair, becoming a beast with wings.
And then —
it flew.
Every viewer across America gasped, jaws dropping.
The impossible had just become reality.
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