Chapter Two – Break

"You lost?!"

Dark Ace winced, "There was an unknown variable."

Cyclonis frowned, "What kind of variable?"

"A new racer. He calls himself Aerrow, a Storm Hawk."

Cyclonis pursed her lips together in deep thought, "That name rings a bell."

The Dark Ace shrugged. He had certainly never heard of a Storm Hawk before and he had been racing for a long time now. But Cyclonis always received all sorts of information, especially the kind that's worth more than a few cheap tickets to the Atmos. This was one of the reasons he worked with her to begin with. With Cyclonis, he wouldn't have to worry about his livelihood and dealing with the riff-raff of the Wastelands. He didn't have to worry keeping his head above water.

"But it doesn't matter," Dark Ace added, "He didn't collect."

Cyclonis raised an eyebrow at this, "Now that's odd. Why race if you didn't want the prize? That's foolish of him."

Foolish, yes. Reckless too. And yet, I can understand that neither are truly involved here, the Dark Ace thought, there's something else entirely that's driving that stranger.

Cyclonis waved away his stewing and he brought himself back into attention.

"Well, hand it over," Cyclonis said impatiently, "This time they had a good property lined up. And we can finally get into Atmos."

The Dark Ace nodded and handed her the deed. Atmos. The place everyone wished to go to. A beautiful land with everything one could ever need. Situated up in the sky, it had "sunlight" and "greenery" in its lands. But for any Wastelanders to ever reach Atmos, they needed to have a high amount of deeds (also known as "Terras") to buy land and enter the sacred grove.

There have been none who have actually left the Wasteland to live in Atmos. But that didn't stop the dreamers, the greedy, the needy and the desperate. Atmos will always remain the dream, the everlasting light beyond the dark, waiting for them. A beacon of hope for the Wastelands to have a better life.

It's all any of them have ever wanted.

And with Cyclonis, the Dark Ace knew he would soon reach that dream.

-XX-

"Aerrow, where have you been?"

Aerrow winced.

"Hi Piper!" he replied, putting on a strong grin, "I just… took a walk for a while! That's all."

Piper gave him a disbelieving glare, "With your Skimmer?"

Aerrow chuckled sheepishly, "A…drive then?"

"You went down there didn't you?" Piper said, jabbing a finger at his chest, "You know the rules! No visiting the Wastelands! You want to get kicked out of the Sky Knights program?"

Aerrow sighed. She was right. No matter how interesting the Wastelands seemed, was it really worth it to throw away his future over? He mulled over this in his head and he leaned against the wall.

Piper blinked. She hadn't expected to look so wistful. She softened and sat down next to him, "Aerrow, what's going on? You never broke the rules ever. What changed?"

Aerrow bit his lip in frustration, running a hand through his hair, "Nothing changed. I still don't like breaking the rules. But there is so little to do here. And I don't know Piper but this place doesn't give you room to," he struggled with the sentence and ended it lamely, "grow."

Piper nodded. Atmos had been rather stagnant but that's the way things have been all their lives. It's not like they could change it from the inside. Could they? She shook her head. No, they were… just kids after all. That thought alone made her stomach churn. Piper had always disliked being weak.

"And you haven't seen it, Piper," Aerrow said, his eyes shining now, "The people there are something! They can do so much! In fact, there was this one racer who was so close to beating me! Can you imagine that?"

Piper giggled, "Sounds like you're really taken with him."

Aerrow flushed and rubbed the back of his neck uneasily, "W-Well, he was kinda cool."

"Do you even know his name?" Piper said, raising an eyebrow at her friend's behaviour.

"Uh, yeah, the announcer guy called him the Dark Ace."

"The Dark Ace? What kind of lame name is that?" Piper snorted, "He sounds like a jerk just from the name!"

"That's not true," Aerrow argued, "Besides, we can't judge a person by their name."

"Aerrow. The Dark Ace. Think about it."

"…Okay, maybe we can judge him a little."

She grinned. He laughed.

It would be okay, she thought at the back of her mind, he'll take care of himself.

-XX-

There wasn't to be another Landsrace for the next few months. Right now, all that was going on were the low-down street races for gang wars and the few necessities that could be scavenged for bets and deals. The Dark Ace stayed out of those, letting the Talons wreck havoc wherever they choose. He didn't have to take part. He was better than a lowly street racer.

But for the first time, he was actually observing a few of the fights. His Talons were there, beating on the Screaming Queens. It wasn't much of a contest really, but he found himself there anyway. Perhaps he was still high on adrenaline from the last race with the unknown racer.

And there he saw it. A blur of blue and grey. He grinned. He struck gold. The Storm Hawk was threading through the gangfire, occasionally dispersing the groups and taking away their weapons, while still driving spectacularly on his bike. The Dark Ace was very rarely impressed, but this time he could not believe that man's racing skills. At the same time, another thought poked him.

Why was he breaking up the fights? Why did he bother? It's not like he knew these people. The Dark Ace frowned. The man couldn't be an idealist, most of those kind died quickly here in the Wastelands. A stab in the back often deals with their kind effectively.

He could think about those things later. Now, he had a racer to catch.

A/N: Reviews are still good!