"Speed...I...am...speed..." Lightning McQueen's eyes flicked open as he finished his old mantra, his gaze set on the flag. The night sky was lit with stars and a crescent moon, though the cheering of all the crowds was what McQueen was most interested in. This felt like home to him now, what with all his friends by his side to cheer him on.

Mater had been coming along to his races for a while now, ever since everything that had happened nearly 3 years ago. The World Grand Prix, though it had been a hoax formulated by Miles Axlerod, had begun its own tradition; each year, the best of the best would come back to the challenge and race again, like all that time ago. There was a prize in fact, though, it was gloating rights nowadays to say you'd won this year's World Grand Prix. The races were in a different order, with the first now being held in Italy, the second in Japan, and the third in London.

To Mater's excitement, two familiar agents would come to the races if they were free; Finn McMissile and Holley Shiftwell. They had decided it wouldn't hurt to come along and view the races with him. Both sat next to the tow truck along with the other members of McQueen's crew, who were all waiting anxiously as the warning sound rang to signal the races were going to begin momentarily. "Good luck McQueen!" Mater heartened into the microphone of his headset.

Everyone in the crowd lit up as the flag was waved and all the cars sped off. Within the rows, the winners of last years' races were in last, and the losers of the race were granted first place in the next race if they chose to participate. McQueen was second to last, followed by none other than Francesco Bernoulli. Ever since triumphing over McQueen the previous year, Francesco wouldn't let him live it down in the year's entirety. So, McQueen entered again to win back the title he should have earned. Francesco lead up head to head with McQueen now, their bumpers near the same distance before Francesco began to speed up, flashing McQueen a smirk as he sped away. "Ciao McQueen!"

McQueen frowned and rolled his eyes, watching the Italian racer pass him with a sharpness in his gaze. At the moment, all the racers were close together, leaving little room for advancing. McQueen remained in last place for a bit longer than he would have preferred, struggling to grasp onto a smaller place number that would do him good. Once he moved up, however, luck stayed by his side and he progressively made his way to the top.

After a few sharper turns and the dirt portion of the track nearing, McQueen was getting closer to the front. His worries had eased away knowing that his own home turf would be up soon and he'd get to leave Francesco in his dust. The green and red formula car came into McQueen's view just before the dirt hit their tires and within moments, McQueen was ahead tenfold. Francesco's tires skid uselessly throughout the mud, his title of 3rd place slipping to last.

McQueen eyed the nearing turn, then banged a sharp right, his entire body gliding effortlessly through the left-hand turn. "Great job McQueen, jus' keep doin' what Doc told ya til ya hit the road again!" Mater advised, to which McQueen responded accordingly.

"No problem Mater!"

Francesco's tires skid as he finally hit the asphalt again, a good 10 seconds behind from McQueen's leading time. His engine hummed loudly as he sped up until he could see the bumper of the car in 7th place, then 6th...5th...4th...just about 3rd...

"Heads up Mcqueen, Francesco's comin' in hot!" Mater informed.

McQueen soaked in this information, noting it as a reality as Francesco sped up to greet him with yet another of his winning smirks before stealing the position of 1st place. The formula car's bumper was the last thing McQueen wanted to see at this moment, what with the finish line coming up so soon, but unfortunately, this was what he was forced to gaze upon. Attempting to draft, McQueen neared closer to the back of Francesco, trying to center his energy into not stressing about this upcoming close call.

A shadowy figure, his highlight outlined with the seemingly glowing spectators, watched from a nearby high rise. He listened intently to what he was being told over the phone, nearing the window and gazing into the pit-stops. His eye caught the pale blue paint of Finn, to which he nodded and responded to whom he was speaking to. "Keep careful eye..." The mysterious voice advised before hanging up. The figure quickly headed to the other side of the room, where the racers could now be seen speeding ever closer to the finish line. He flicked up a small computer screen on his side-view mirror, watching it intently before heading up closer to the window. Another second more and...

Francesco's heart was set high with the incoming glory of beating McQueen yet again. But a sudden, jarring click shot his thoughts right out of his head and within moments, his engine felt like it was ablaze. His tires skid and he swerved to the side involuntarily, his open fenders buckling under the speed. McQueen gasped and slammed on his own brakes to avoid Francesco, who struggled to keep from overturning. The formula car's right tire bent inwards too far and he was forced into the air, propelled by the forces of gravity and causing him to flip and land harshly onto the asphalt. He flipped once more, then again, and again. The finish line met both cars moments later, but not in the way they had imagined.

McQueen screeched to a halt, gazing wide eyed at Francesco, who was several yards away. The Italian racer was upside down, his front and back tires still spinning. "Francesco!" McQueen breathed, immediately driving over to his side. Francesco slowly blinked, his vision growing blurred and hazy. He groaned in pain, barely registering the blurry red bumper growing closer. "Are you alright?!" McQueen questioned with a more pressing and concerned tone. His expression fell further as the other vehicle only responded with strange, muffled sentences that were incomprehensible.

The crowds had screamed with horror in unison. Cars in the pits all paled and inched forward to see the screens showing the disaster more clearly. "Ambulances, get the ambulances!" Many were screaming, to which the emergency vehicles were quickly sent off towards the scene of the crash. The other racers were heading up, earning their spots in the next race, but not doing so as purposefully as before. As each came to the finish line, they too gazed at Francesco with fear and concern in their eyes. They were soon parted as the emergency vehicles neared and ushered away back to their pits.

Lightning rolled up, seeming shaken. "McQueen, McQueen what happened?!" Mater questioned quickly, and the red car's gaze flicked back to where Francesco had been before he entered the pits further. The ambulances' lights were barely visible in the dark distance now, heading away from the stadium to get to the hospital.

McQueen's crew kept all questions to later that night when everything died down. They had all settled into their hotel and called a meeting to McQueen's room shortly after arriving to give explanations, pep talks, and whatever else was needed to prepare for the next race the following day. Finn kept to the back, listening intently to the story and trying to find a cause of the unusual slip up Francesco had taken part in.

"He just swerved all of a sudden," Lightning explained slowly, his gaze showing he was running it all through in his head, over and over. "His axles buckled and that was that, he was flipping."

"Has the news given any more information?" Finn questioned, heading up to the front of the circle that was around McQueen.

"I saw something on the tv about an engine problem..." Fillmore brought up after a moment, and all eyes turned to him.

"Engine problem? But Francesco seemed perfectly fine," Holley interjected.

"Yeah man I dunno...I guess it must've been waaay more sinister than it looked, but...it's popular on TV sooo…"

"We'll just have to get our answers from there." Finn added in, prompting everyone else to nod and get lost in their own thoughts. His gaze flicked back up as he recalled a question. "Has Francesco ever had any engine problems in the past?"

"It's not as if I've done extensive research," Sally began, giving McQueen a side glance as to not trigger his recognition of her liking Francesco so much, "...but from what I know, he's in those commercials about eating right and staying healthy. His engine should have been in pristine condition."

Silence followed after before everyone began their 'goodnights' and 'see you in the mornings'. Finn gave Holley a slide glance as everyone began to leave the room shortly after. "This is very bizarre...a car, never having engine problems before, ending up in a crash like that?" Finn thought aloud as he headed down to his room with Holley following slowly afterwards. "It seems too suspicious to me, Francesco is known for being as healthy as he is, it just doesn't make sense..."

"Maybe it was an outside source...?" Holley put in, prompting Finn to glance back at her again. "It's like when those 'lemons' were blowing up car engines with that camera."

"You think they may be back again?" Finn questioned, and Holley shook her front bumper.

"Not specifically them again, but, maybe cars with the same intent to do what they had done years ago," Holley corrected.

Finn stopped, reversed, and turned, finally facing her properly. "You may be right. But we also may be jumping to conclusions way too quickly. There's still the chance of an engine failure in any car."After a few moments of silence, Finn drew back. "I'm going out. I'll be back before everyone leaves tomorrow morning," he told her, heading past her and down the hall again.

Holley watched him before quickly following after. "Wait-where are you going?"

"Back to the racetrack, I'm going to figure out what happened."