(Just in case anyone wanted a bit more flavor for this chapter. Check out "Redline OST – Yellow Line" and loop it in the background. Enjoy.)

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Yang Line

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Speed isn't a push.

It's a pull.

It drags you into its whims

Kicking and screaming.

Like gravity.

Sweet, thrilling gravity.

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Ten cars shot through the tunnels, like bullets from a gun.

It was deep into the night, so there was scarcely any civilian traffic. The roads gave racers several lanes to maneuver. And though they were underground, the world around them was fairly lit—mainly from the tunnel's lights…but also because of the sirens from police cars giving chase.

Mistral's finest were a soft enforcement in recent times. With war brewing on the Kingdom's borders, the world of underground racing enjoyed many nights' reprieve without their interference.

This was not one of those nights.

Two police cars managed to catch up to one of the racers. They boxed the driver in from both sides and slowed them down. The racer's headlights disappeared into the swarm of cop cars in the next second.

It was like watching pack wolves take down prey. The police made use of their numbers and their ability to corner their quarry. And just like that, another car was consumed by the flashing blue and red lights.

Only eight racers remained.

Yang and Chariot were part of the small group ahead of the pack. It seemed only a matter of time before the cops claimed two more drivers that were trailing behind.

Watching the spectacle from above, barely skirting the tunnel's ceiling, were several drones covered in decals. A camera operated under each carriage. The feed linked to a giant screen, where the audience watched from the starting line. They also provided directions to the drivers.

The tracking display read out on Yang's helmet visor. She was almost too distracted by it, when steel grappling hooks almost caught her from behind.

Yang leaned right, then left. The capture wires dug deep into the concrete, missing her by inches. Vehicles beside her were doing much the same, and she just barely avoided a sure-death collision.

Dodging the cops' projectiles resulted in a loss of speed. An opportunity the officers fully exploited, as two more racers were overtaken.

Yang glanced to the side and saw a police car pull up. A hand reached out the window holding a noose. The thing that resembled a fishing pole extended towards her, but was batted away easily enough.

Frustrated, the officer started whacking Yang with it than using it to capture.

"Ow! Grr…!"

The moment she was able to create space and find a stable line to follow, Yang took her right hand off the steering, and pulled back. Hips rotating into the draw, she aimed her shots where it would cause the most destruction.

"Back OFF!"

Her Aura flared and Ember Celica spat out a vicious barrage. Yang unloaded on the police car repeatedly as it swerved. Its engine and tires shot to pieces.

The biker turned the accelerator hard to gain new distance.

Wait a minute, did I just open fire on a cop?

Oops.

I'm actually a criminal now…

The map display on her visor blinked, as if to interrupt her thoughts.

Racers were instructed to take a maintenance tunnel detour than continue the rest of the way. All of them conformed gracefully into a line as they dove into a cordoned off section. The lead car, Chariot, smashed through the wooden warning sign like it was made of toothpicks.

In the span of a few seconds, the chasing police cars started to drift back. Their slowing down tripped Yang's instincts. She told herself to be prepared for whatever was ahead.

The racers reached the end of the narrow tunnel and saw what deterred the cops from following.

As soon as they left the archway, they were met with the free air with no road underneath them. Their wheels turning on nothing but empty space. They flew across the sky long enough for them to gasp, and then scream.

They were falling, nose tilted down at an angle. Their vehicles aligned with the steep incline of the reservoir basin they had just entered.

Sparks flew as the bellies of their machines kissed the concrete. And suddenly, they were driving at near-plummeting descent.

Like the drop in a rollercoaster, Yang felt tingles all over her body. Her guts seemed to leap into her chest. Her eyes went wide with shock and excitement. Hormones and bodily chemicals pumped through her system like drugs.

For all intents and purposes, she should have flown off into the air, but the Bumblebee Mk. II pulled her through the motion. It anchored its rider through the mad dive.

The racers traveled down the reservoir wall in mere seconds, and the angle levelled out.

When they reached even ground, the drivers found themselves in the valley outside the walls of Mistral.

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X

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There was low visibility in the deserted wilderness.

Even from the vehicles' headlights, the drivers could only see a short distance in front of them.

Note to self: add night vision to helmet features.

A sentiment all the remaining racers shared with Yang. Though they couldn't see each other very well, they could guess every pair of eyes was glued to their respective course displays. As it was their only guide in this world of infinite darkness.

At least…it was supposed to be.

The remaining six realized something was wrong when one of them suddenly began swerving.

Gravel and dust kicked up, followed by the sound of crunching metal. Then the vehicle was gone.

Yang scanned the area on high alert. Her senses dialed to a thousand from all the adrenaline pumping through her system, trying to find something, anything remotely out of place.

And there they were. Much easier to see than she'd like.

Glowing red eyes followed them from the shadows, too many to count. They all knew what they were.

Grimm.

Yang ducked her head to avoid clicking pincers soaring overhead. A whip-like tail lashed out in front of her and she banked right—just in time to avoid the strike. Her knee pads scraped the ground from the tilt.

Death Stalkers…

Countless of them, judging by the red circles dotting the horizon.

Yang looked to the side at the one other motorcycle in the race.

Its rider was sweating bullets. Feeling more vulnerable than most, compared to the cover a car would normally provide. Nerves ate away at the rider's courage and the close dodges only pried the cracks in their resolve.

Wanting no part in the race any longer, the biker swerved from the pack and out of sight, hoping the Grimm would focus on the group rather than one lone vehicle. Whether they would survive their way back to the city, Yang wouldn't know until she crossed the finish line.

After a while, the remaining competitors acclimated to the danger looming around them. Enough so, they began maneuvering around each other again, trying to cut others off to get ahead.

Chariot especially, was fluid in his maneuverings. Despite the challenges the race provided, he managed to stay in relative safety. The performance of his car clearly outclassed everyone else's. By so much, a spectator would think it was a generation ahead in technology.

If the Bumblebee Mk. II wasn't synched to Yang like a prosthetic limb, keeping up would have been impossible.

A loud crashing sound accompanied a shower of orange sparks, as Chariot shoved another car off-course, careening into a group of Death Stalkers.

The scorpion-like Grimm were not as fast as the cars, but they did populate all over the valley. Because of that, at any given moment, one could be only a few feet away.

With the competition thinning, and Yang presenting the only rival, Chariot started to focus the last motorcycle rider.

The gold car ran parallel to the Bumblebee Mk. II. Chariot blocked Yang's lines and tried pinning her to any Death Stalkers they came across.

The close calls were getting closer. Her motorcycle was running out of room to maneuver. But they could see the lights of the city once more.

Their course guides navigated them back to safer roads and the Grimm were becoming sparse.

In a last-ditch attempt, Chariot tapped the side of Yang's bike and sent her careening towards the last Death Stalker.

"RAHHH!" she roared, as she pumped Aura into the Bumblebee Mk. II.

The vehicle vented shining blue flames for a brief spurt. Her fist rocked back, and then flew forward like a sledgehammer.

The giant scorpion's exoskeleton sundered, as its body cleaved in half. Fires burned what remained of the carcass.

Out from the explosion rode Yang, unharmed.

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X

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It was the final section.

A long stretch of freshly-laid black pavement before the finish line.

The road was as smooth as could be.

There were no obstructions, no Grimm, no police.

They were in the last seconds of the race.

Chariot tried once more to bump Yang off the road, before it would be detrimental to himself to attempt any further.

The biker was able to avoid the foul play, and the two entered the final leg.

Chariot opened the nitrous valve on his engine, and his car shot forward. A high hissing whine escaped his vehicle as it pitched itself farther into the lead.

It was time for Yang to play her trump card as well.

Under the rushing winds and heavy g-force, she exhaled the air out of her lungs. Keeping any could make her choke for what she was about to do next.

When she braced herself, she eked out the words to Ember Celica.

[ I Burn… ]

Her right arm punched into the center of her bike.

Both Ember Celica and the Bumblebee Mk. II shifted forms. The armored plating gave way to the shuddering engines beneath. Afterburner rockets torched with life, like a chain of explosions caged in steel.

Yang's Aura flooded from her body into her arm, and from there, into the motorcycle. Gold and blue conflagration enveloped the rider and vehicle. The flames were so all-consuming, they licked the tires, giving the motorcycle a sort of haunting image.

And in that burst of speed, Yang lost all sense of hearing.

The world ceased to make a sound. Even her thoughts quieted and there was only this moment for her in all existence.

Her surroundings passed so fast, her eyes couldn't keep up. The only clear thing was the single point ahead—her destination.

Yang couldn't spare him a look, but she sensed him there. Chariot was still there, and he was still in the lead.

He's going to win.

I need to be faster.

I want to be faster.

More…

Give me MORE…!

Yang felt her Aura strain, but still, she pumped out every little bit she could. It was painful—like ringing out blood from her veins. Every drop harder to squeeze out than the last.

Numbness was setting in, both physical and mental.

Yang was experiencing tunnel vision.

Her heart screamed to go faster.

Only faster.

Nothing else mattered.

Then, the light-blue colored flames spilling from her bike flickered to neon green.

Yang burned NOS, spilling a trail of jade fire in her wake.

She didn't blink or flinch. Her body worked her sore muscles to maintain balance. Careful movements of her fingers and arms kept her in the right line.

Yang could feel every piston, every pipe, every turbine overclocking. The Synchronizer made her one with the Bumblebee Mk. II.

The course display on her helmet went haywire, then cut out under the stress.

WARNING! WARNING!

STOP! STOP! STOP!

The red text suddenly blinked and a robotic voice shouted from Yang's visor.

She let off the accelerator and switched to the brake. Her tires screeched as she angled the motorcycle sideways, before coming to a full stop.

Yang was still deaf for the most part, but the world outside her helmet began rushing towards her. And when she took it off, a tidal wave of cheers flooded her from all sides.

She knew.

She didn't have to look at her competition to know.

Neo came bounding toward her, and for the first time, Yang was the one to take the initiative.

She scooped up her partner by the waist, planting her lips fiercely across hers.

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X

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On the rooftop of an empty parking lot, a man dressed in butler's attire with a long length of cloth draped over one arm, approached a lone car.

"I believe congratulations are in order."

Peafowl spoke with Team ENMY with the same formality he always did. A tone without any sense of enthusiasm or joy.

"Thanks! Why don't you take a seat?" Yang offered.

"I would be happy to, Ms. Xiao Long."

The butler joined Team ENMY in sitting on the hood of Chariot's former car. Its once pristine gold polish, now marked with footprints and dripped ice cream.

It was an unsaid victory ritual for Team ENMY to get ice cream cones on completing a particularly trying job—and this past one qualified.

"I trust the driver yet lives?" Peafowl checked.

"Barely," Yang answered. "Can't say much about his ego."

"A prudent course of action."

"—So, Peafowl," Emerald smiled. "You gonna tell us what this was really about?"

"I am not quite sure what you mean."

"I mean, what does House Vermillion want with this car?" she patted the hood.

"I am not quite sure what you mean."

Emerald groaned. "Fine. I get it. We're paid to get the job done, not ask questions."

"…"

"…"

"…Although," Peafowl added after a time. "Before I take my leave, I would like to impart a humorous story I once heard."

On hearing that, all of Team ENMY sat with attention.

"There were rumors that one of Atlas' former premier engineers had a rather odd obsession with street racing. This individual also assisted in the development of next generation engines for their military's aircrafts. In pursuit of his fanaticism, he traveled to a city known for its prolific street racing culture. To compete and dominate the competition, said individual—"

"Stuck the newest prototype Dust Reactor in his car?!" Emerald shouted in disbelief.

"Ah, you've heard this story before. Though, it does not pertain to the vehicle you have acquired in recent wagers."

"Seriously?!"

The team stared at the car's hood they were sitting on.

"That's some new kind of dumb," Emerald sighed. "Well, you guys lucked out. Mistral's been trailing behind Atlas and Vale's airship technology for a while now. I can imagine Parliament using this to do some real catching up in the arm's race… And Chariot wouldn't let out he lost the thing in a stupid wager. Atlas won't be the wiser that Mistral just got a piece of their newest tech. Huh…I get the feeling we got a little underpaid for this, Peafowl."

"I can neither confirm nor deny your conjectures. However, my master has allowed me to amend your fees to an amount you deem fit."

"—Don't suppose we're getting school credits for this," Yang mentioned. "I mean, I doubt your employer could convince anyone this was just extracurriculars. There were cops. I shot at them."

"My master has made the appropriate arrangements. You need not be concerned."

"House Vermillion's influence, huh?"

"I assure you, I do not work under the Vermillion Wing Faction."

Emerald's brow twitched at that statement.

"Tomorrow, I shall visit your dorm to negotiate fees," Peafowl resumed. "Please prepare an offer before the time of our appointment."

They all hopped off the car and Yang tossed Peafowl the keys.

"Good day to you all," he bowed.

And with that, the butler drove the car out of the parking lot.

The four stared out to the sky that was now splashed with purple and orange. Dawn was upon them, and they all started to feel how tiring this week really was.

"Did you guys hear that?" Emerald asked them seriously.

"Which part?" Yang replied.

"He clearly said he wasn't with the Vermillion Faction."

"So?"

"So…I did some digging into his name and his obvious nobility."

"When was this?"

"While you guys were building the bike. You think I was just sitting around, twiddling my thumbs? I was doing my job, too."

"Okay. What'd you find?"

"The Peafowl family is one of the top names in the Faction. But he clearly said he wasn't a part of it."

"He could've lied about his name, or lied just now."

"Dunno. There's something off there."

"—See. Shoes…" Mercury added.

"Ah! Whatever! Time to get some damn shut eye! This is a problem for tomorrow's Emerald," Emerald procrastinated her work to her future self.

As they were getting ready to leave, Yang took a second longer to take in the view. Her mind sunk into contemplation.

I got angry and threw all my emotions into this.

Wasn't I not supposed to do that?

Have I taken a step back?

What would Masa say if she saw me now?

What kind of advice would she give?

Yang looked down and caressed her Ember Celica. Her fingertips touched the scars and dents in the alloy.

It activated, though. It wouldn't have if I was wrong, right?

And I feel different.

Real different.

"Heh!" she let out a confident smirk.

Yang stretched her back as far as it would go.

"Feeeels SO FRESH! HAHAHA!"

"Weirdo," Emerald called behind her. "Looks like the sleep deprivation finally got to you."

"Naw. I just…"

I feel good.

Comfortable in my skin.

I'm sure.

I'm moving in the right direction.