Speed tore down the practice track, his foot glued to the gas and his eyes fixed on the metal road in front of him. The Mach 5 whirred and squeaked, digging her tires in and groaning as the body hugged turn after turn. Rubber smells filled the stadium, the sound of roaring absent for the moment. Speed leaned right, banking the S turn and then pulled left at the last second before jacking over the tricky C jump.

"Not bad, Speed." Racer X said from his left as he rammed into the white car with the Augury, "Try it with less swerving next lap...if the Mach 5 still has the axle for it!"

The white car slammed hard into the yellow T-180, knocking X a bit off course. "This is the sickest car ever built and you know it! She can handle anything , just drive, hotshot!"

The masked racer smiled and pulled ahead, smirking at his student as he flew by. Speed didn't take it lying down, but instead gunned the engine, making the beast roar as he began regaining ground. The two cars battled it out like two feuding knights; neither giving ground and neither relenting in their goal of the win. Racer X pushed Speed to his limit, and Speed responded by furiously and aggressively attacking the Augury, his pride for the Mach 5 fueling his driving.

At last, bumper beside bumper, the two metal monsters crossed the finish line, their roars calming to pitters as they began their cool-down. Their drivers hopped out, panting and laughing, the joy on both their faces evident as they socked each other playfully. High on adrenaline, the two men panted heavily, each taking out a water flask and downing it in a few gulps.

"You ate your words, X! I beat you fair and square!" Speed said with a cocky grin.

"Oh, did you now? I think the Augury's nose was just a bit past the Mach 5's. I won."

"In your dreams!" Speed shoved his mentor "You just can't admit getting beat by a cross-country car!"

X shoved him back "Now who's dreaming? I told you, Speed, the Mach 5 has had her day."

The older Racer's eyes fell on the family treasure, and he sighed as he walked to her and put his hands on the hood. A flood of memories assaulted his senses, both good and bad. He patted his old friend fondly.

"Even with all the modifications that the CIB gave her, this old car is about ready for retirement. I give her about six more races before she literally falls apart on you."

"Then why not let her?"

Instantly, both Racers were on high alert. They needn't have worried, as the two were about to realise.. The figure in question was a young driver named Jack Rocket, affectionately nicknamed 'Whisper' by others fortunate enough to know of him. The black-haired teen with the black and teal racing jacket with matching pants, navy gloves with electric blue flames licking at the fingerless ends, yellow shoes, and midnight blue shades with blackout lenses smiled softly, approaching the white racing machine, bangs falling in his eyes. He held up a hand "May I?"

At the two's dumbfounded nod, the nimble driver placed his hands over the hood of the Mach 5 and closed his eyes, breathing deeply and letting it out slowly. He then began to run his hand along the rest of the car, a concentrated look on his face.

While he was doing this, Speed turned to his brother and asked curiously in a whisper, "Who exactly is this guy? Why are we letting him near the Mach 5, exactly?"

Racer X squinted and his eyes widened benieth the racing shades. His breath lodged in his throat, and he had to swallow to answer his curious younger brother, his voice also not abve a whisper as he gazed awestruck.

"Because judging by that outfit he's got on, plus how he's handling the Mach 5...that's the famous Jack 'The Whisperer' Rocket. One of if not the best racing drivers in the world! He's a legend. It's said that the single time he ran in the Grand Prix, he won by a full lap...while blindfolded."

"Blindfolded?! Closing your eyes I understand, but the entire race blindfolded?"

"Aparently, he'd run into a few headhunters in the locker room who decided to put a blowtorch to his eyes. The damage to his sight wasn't permanent...but it was enough to damage it for the race and scar his skin. If you look carefully under his glasses you can still see the marks. Anyway, he won that race listening to his T-180, as well as the entire rest of the competitors' cars. It's rumored that he can touch a car and know it's history, present, and future, as well as knowing if anything was slightly wrong with it. Believe me, Speed...if there's anyone I trust around the Mach 5, it's Rocket."

Speed looked in newfound awe at the stranger feeling the Mach 5, his blue eyes widening as realizatiom hit him suddenly "Pops said once there was a driver they called 'the Car Magician'. That must be him as well. Everyone wants him to sign with them, but he refuses to race under anyone, even Racer Motors. Pops says he builds his own cars from scraps left over from the big companies, DNF wrecks, and junkyards."

Racer X nodded slightly and turned his attention to the other driver, "I've heard that too. Inspector Detector's had his eyes on you, Rocket."

"Yes. I know." Rocket replied vacantly, attention still on whatever it was he was doing, not taking his eyes or hands off the Mach 5, "I keep turning him down. I respect the boys at the CIB, Racer X, but I have no interest in joining."

"I understand."

"By the way, Speed Racer." The driver finally looked up with a smile "You were right. The Mach 5 here is going to race for a good long time before she eventually just falls apart in the middle, or rather the end, of the track. An honorable fate for any well-loved, well-driven vehicle. Let her die carrying you over that last finish line."

Speed nodded, still slightly starstruck. He was glad the family treasure would have a long life, and he felt it was only right for her to spend her final moments doing what she did best, as he hoped one day to go. That is...if Cannonball didn't finish him first.

Racer X started to say soomething, but Jack raised his hand "Save it. I know his situation. In fact that's why I dropped by. Oh, don't glare at me, X. I have no interest in collecting twenty mil tonight. At least not out of Speed's hide, anyway."

Both brothers looked shocked. The car magician chuckled "So you didn't hear about the increase, hmm? Ol' Cannonball busted a gasket. Word in the underground is, he's getting real desperate now that Speed decided to sign with Firetoll. A decision I'm hoping is a front." he glared at the young Racer, his eyes burning through the glasses to become a scathing, heated warning.

"Yeah. I'm setting him up." Speed assured him with a gulp.

"Good lad." the tension lessened immediately. "Anyway, I can't stay long. You aren't the only one with a price on your head, and I prefer to keep moving. I just stopped by to give you a warning, and to talk with the sickest vehicle ever built. You take care of her, Speed, and she'll gladly continue taking care of you."

He turned and walked a ways, then looked over his shoulder,

"By the way, you're a top notch driver, Speed Racer. I like your heart. I'll be keeping my eye on you, so don't go slacking off on those morals of yours!"

Speed blushed heavily, "I won't. Count on it!"

GOSPEEDGOSPEEDGOSPEEDGO

Racer X seethed that night as he thought over the conversation the two had with the mysterious and elusive Car Magician. So...Cannonball raised the bounty, and my guess is it'll keep going up until Speed either puts a stop to him...or stops breathing. I won't let that last one happen. I refuse!

He turned over and over, thinking hard. If he went to the Inspector now, that would leave Speed vulnerable. If he waited until the end of the next race, Cannonball would have time to cover his tracks. Worse, with the young Racer's bounty so high, the race itself would be a literal blood bath, with every other driver wanting a piece of Speed's hide.

Then there was their gamble with Firetoll.

Speed was clever, X had to admit, but there were several things that could go wrong on race day concerning his brother's plans to round up the tricky fixer. If the man so much as sniffed foul play things would get rough, and dangerous.

His vision clouded over, once again allowing the horrific scene play out of Speed's limp, broken and burned body in his arms...his brother's blood running through his fingers, staining his pants…Speed's final, gasping breath...

No! It won't happen!

Unable to sleep, Racer X got out of bed and crept to his little brother's room. The telltale sawing of logs from within assured the Masked Racer that there were no nightmares plaguing the young driver tonight. He was grateful for that. Speed's life had become a whirlwind ever since he won the Grand Prix, and this whole mess with Cannonball slightly soured that victory. If anyone deserved a real good rest, it was Speed Racer.

X smiled slightly as he watched the steady rising and falling chest, the rhythm easy and carefree. Whatever went on behind those eyelids, it was clearly nothing horrific, though if he were to be perfectly honest...it should have been.

Yet as he looked, he couldn't help but be reminded of the times when he'd stood by before...after races, when Speed had screamed louder and with more passion than anyone else in the crowd. When he'd yelled and hollered until his voice was gone, cheering on his older brother, the 'best racer in the entire world!' until he literally fell asleep on his feet. Pops and Mom had to carry him into his room and tuck him in, all the while, little Speedy smiled and cheered in his sleep, twitching as the adrenaline finally left his body.

Smiling, Racer X turned away, once again warring with his emotions. He settled on bemusement, and snickered

"Go on then, sleep now, Speed. I'll run you ragged tomorrow."