Chapter 45: A Day at the Races

Later that night, the group left the hideout, boarded the Lobo Ship, and began their hunt for Black Shadow. Falcon settled down in bed to get a full night's sleep. Only a sharp, focused mind could overcome the intense opposition that barricaded his path towards success. Distractions were a hinderance, too. He needed to relinquish them.

Including his concern for Jody.

The group followed the signal until they reached an area with abandon buildings. After a thorough search, the 3DS led them to the side wall of a building. Like Falcon's hideout, the door must've been camouflaged. All they could do was wait. If they advanced now, Black Shadow would retaliate with the Heartless, making their rescue mission unnecessarily complicated.

Luigi activated the ship's cloaking device, so that prying eyes wouldn't gander upon it. They took shifts in watching the entrance throughout the night. Once the sun began its morning pilgrimage, Sora took the next watch (Isabelle was awake, too, scrutinizing her journal; that pup never says no to a break!). He placed both arms on the dashboard, resting his head upon them, bored.

Although Luigi and Yoshi's snoring didn't help the mood. At least it was interspersed with gentle scribbling from Isabelle's pen. Suddenly, he was startled by the sounds of Luigi grunting and groaning. He spun around to see Yoshi was giving him a tight hug.

Upon waking up, Luigi pushed the dinosaur back into his seat. "Hey, what are you doing?! Squeezing me to see if I'm made of seven different fruit juices!?"

"So Yoshi wasn't working at a teddy bear factory?" Yoshi asked, drowsy. "Disappointment."

Sora heard a mechanical noise, and spun around, gesturing for everyone to pay attention. Part of the wall opened like a garage door. To their delight, they saw the Black Bull leave. Black Shadow also enjoyed a good night sleep. Everything was fantastic. and it would only claim the mountain of perfection by defeating Falcon (whether through obtaining first place or watching him die. The latter was preferable).

Once Black Shadow left their sight (and the garage door closed), Sora punched the palm of his hand in enthusiasm. "Alright! Time to cause some collateral damage!"

"Just be careful," Isabelle said. "Even without the Heartless, he wouldn't leave it unprotected."

Yoshi stared at the wall. "But how we get in?"

"Just leave that to the ship!" Luigi said.

Isabelle's hunch was correct; there were guards stationed throughout Black Shadow's lair. Some were in the garage, meandering around, looking for anything suspicious. Well, they did see something that'd cause alarm; it was in the form of the garage door being blown into pieces, leaving a makeshift window in the form of a hole.

Sora and his friends leaped through, and drew their weapons. The guards stared at them in stunned silence for their unexpected appearance.

"Eh, you didn't need that door," Sora said, in a mocking tone. "Was too tacky."

Luigi stared at him with a flat expression. "Good one."

"Was that sarcasm?" Sora asked, somewhat upset.

Luigi waved an indifferent hand. "Draw your own conclusion."

"Fighting!" Yoshi said in a panic.

The guards ran right for them. A battle in the garage ensued. Sora and his friends had a strong beginning to the plan; now Falcon needed to finish it by taking first place.

Despite the problems that pestered yesterday, today felt fresh and new, like stepping outside on a beautiful summer's morning. Excited F-Zero fans were not discouraged from the dilemma plaguing the streets. Every year they looked forward to another exhilarating race. Nothing would deny them a chance to see their favorite racers compete in person.

And the fact that the bleachers were filled with a bevy of them was a testament to their passion. From far away, they looked like multicolored pegs; the crowd seemed endless. And their cheers and applause even drowned out the machines making their way to the starting line. An electric billboard hung over the racers' heads, displaying their profiles for the audience.

But there was only one individual with a smooth, yet zealous voice that brought the whole event together: Mr. Zero, the official announcer of the F-Zero races. He stood up in his booth, donning an elegant turquoise suit, a yellow undershirt, and a purple tie. Although he appeared human, Mr. Zero was a cyborg. A red metal plate was attached to his head. Red goggles covered his eyes, and fixed to the plate was a microphone.

"Gooooooddddd morning, racing fanatics!" Mr. Zero said. "The moment everyone has been waiting for is here at least! It's the annual F-Zero Grand Prix!"

The audience's cheers were so loud that the stadium would've collapsed from the sheer volume.

"That's right!" Mr. Zero said, basking in the commotion. "Cheer as loud as you can, because they'll be drowned out once those mighty engines start up for five rounds of adrenaline-fueled action! This year's winner will not only be walking away with an overstuffed wallet, but a special, one-of-a-kind championship belt made from the rarest materials!"

Staff members brought in a massive belt. In the middle of it was a red circle that glistened in the light. Engraved on top of the belt was the word: 'F-Zero." Camera drones flew in to get a nice close-up of its radiant glow. This just made the audiences cheer louder. The staff placed the belt on a pedestal, which was soon sealed behind a glass dome.

"Yes! It wouldn't be epic without some high-stake prices up for grabs! And now, give it up for our contestants!"

Many of the racers stood next to their machines, giving the audience appreciative waves. They were of various backgrounds: one was a former surgeon sporting a yellow jumpsuit, and had short brown hair. Another was a cyborg with a silver mechanical body. An anthropomorphic octopus waved his multiple tentacles at the crowd. And a heavy built man wearing a white jumpsuit (with a star on his belt that wouldn't look out of place in Luigi's world) pumped his fist into the air.

Samurai Goroh arrived at the startling line, jumped out of the Fire Stingray, and outstretched his arms, as if prepared to be showered with praise. "Da Samurai is here! Laud me with your undying love!"

And he was pelleted with boos instead.

"Hey!" Goroh said, angered. "What part of love didn't you get?"

"Ouch!" Mr. Zero said, showing a small bit of pity for him. "Samurai Goroh is feeling the contempt from these fans. I haven't heard this much booing since my first singing gig at a karaoke bar. And I was part of the chorus!"

"Shut it, Zero!" Goroh said, hissing at him. "Or I'll rip off your metal arm and use it for things that would cause the TV censors to have an aneurysm!"

Mr. Zero reeled back in fear. "Annnndddd moving on." He frowned. "Looks like the notorious emperor of brutality has just entered the arena. Here is: Black Shadow!"

Black Shadow reclined in his seat, remaining composed among the utter contempt from the audience. He didn't care what anyone thought of him. None of it mattered. Soon their scorns would shrivel into cries for mercy.

"Yeah, boo! You suck!" Goroh said, piggybacking off the audiences' jeers. "Why'd the F-Zero committee let you compete? You're a wanted criminal!" (And yes, the irony passed by him on the train tracks without stopping) "Just go home and polish your horns!"

Black Shadow gave him a cold, threatening stare that froze his courage, turning it into a terrified sculpture. Wordless, Goroh hurried over to the Stingray, hopped in, and slid into his sit.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Mr. Zero said. "Please put your hands together as we introduce the current champion of the Grand Prix. The greatest bounty hunter in Mute City – the man who doesn't know defeat even if it stubbed his big toe – the one, the only: Captain Falcon!"

The Blue Falcon entered the arena, came to a halt, and Falcon exited, waving to the crowd. Fans screams of jubilation made the whole raceway tremble.

"Oh, come on!" Goroh said. "He's not that awesome! My vehicle can handle way better than his!"

Falcon glanced at Goroh's machine with a smirk. "Aw, looks like someone has hit their midlife crisis. That new paintjob suits you."

The drones flew over to get a nice shot of Yoshi's magnum opus. Everyone exploded into a fit of laughter. Goroh waved his fist at the audience. Falcon approached the Black Bull, locking eyes with Black Shadow. Today, they would settle their conflict through an intense race. None of the other competitors mattered. He was determined to make Black Shadow pay for hurting everyone.

"Didn't think you'd show, Falcon," Black Shadow said in a taunting tone. "I mean, how could you even consider racing after letting me capture Officer Summer's heart? You must be a wreck."

Falcon's expression remained neutral as it dodged the verbal assault. "The guilt trip isn't working. Or, maybe it is for you. After all, you can't beat me, so you might as well have some form of comfort."

"Delusional as ever." Black Shadow's chest tightened with anticipation. "I can't wait to make mincemeat of you!"

"Who's calling who delusional?" Falcon asked.

Black Shadow let out a small, amused, "Hm. So, where are those annoying sidekicks of yours? I thought they'd be here cheering you on. Or are they too disgusted to be around someone who's neglected to save their friend?"

"They're running an errand for me. Asked them to redesign interior of someone's bachelor pad, if you catch my drift."

Black Shadow gave Falcon a perplexed expression, unable to magnetize the context together like marbles. He then noticed a sly smirk had tickled Falcon's usual, stoic lips. A huge realization crashed into Black Shadow like a bulldozer, scattering bricks of his arrogance onto the floor.

Panicked, he grabbed the speaker from his microphone, turned on the radio, and shouted, "Hello! Is anyone there!? The Keyblade kid and his friends are—"

The radio responded with a cacophony of noise; Black Shadow heard miscellaneous items falling onto the ground, glass breaking, and grunts, groans, and yelling from his henchmen.

"The green thing's biting me!" one the men said over the radio, yelping in pain. "The green thing's biting!"

"Yuck!" Yoshi said. "When the last time you bathe?" He sounded resentful. "Least you didn't have to, unlike Yoshi!"

"I said I was sorry!" Sora said.

Black Shadow shut off the radio, unable to bare the humiliating sounds of defeat. How did this happen? He held the advantage over Falcon; but once again, he evaded being crushed between his fingers like a bug. His plan was perfect. All his hard work, wasted, sent spiraling down a garbage disposal of failure.

Filled with nothing but intense rage, Black Shadow crushed the speaker like a soda can; electricity sparked from it in agony.

"What's wrong?" Falcon asked, retaining his smirk. "That seems like a fair trade off: you take Jody's heart, I have my friends wreck the place. Everyone except you is happy in the end."

Black Shadow focused his gaze on Falcon; behind that mask were a pair of vicious eyes snarling with enmity, restraining their host from pouncing on his arrogant victim. In a low, dark voice, he said, "Get in your vehicle so that I can slaughter you on the track!"

Falcon obliged. Defeating Black Shadow would pick away at the last smidgen of pride he had left. Once the drivers were prepared, Mr. Zero made the announcement for them to "start your engines!" The crowd's cheers matched the intense growling of the machines; they were prepared to burst from their impatient cages, and drive into the wild, unpredictable raceway.

Falcon let the noise rush into his ears; to him, it was like listening to a symphony of beautiful notes. This was his world – his passion. When he was blazing down the track, the thrill pumped endless adrenaline into his veins; nothing was more satisfying. It was time to claim another victory.

The countdown commenced: "3…2….1….GO!"

Everyone in the audience rose from their seats in joy, screaming and clapping, as multicolored blurs flew through the starting line. The racetrack hovered far above Mute City; buildings below looked like toy models. Orange walls made from pure energy stood on each side of the track, preventing racers from falling to their untimely demise.

But they enjoyed the sense of danger – to dangle high above the city, feeling that sense of dread as they jumped off ramps into the air, knowing one wrong move would be fatal. The machines made twists and turns through the complex track. One racer tried to cut ahead of Black Shadow, but he knocked him into the wall, and just barely missed two other racers.

Falcon was far behind everyone. He had to focus on the spaces between the other racers, and move forward. One tried cutting him off, but he decreased speed, made a tight turn, and sped past the racer. Moments later, the racers came to a spiral that went upward, and drifted right on the tight turn.

Some managed to drive close to the other racers, forcing them towards the wall. One of them was Falcon. Metal scaped against the tail of his machine. It screeched right in his ear. He would not let anything harm his precious machine. Once the track was straight again, he saw an opening between two drivers, cut through them, and continued forward.

Ahead of them was a small ramp for the racers to jump off, and land on another road below it. Some tried to gain speed; others tried driving close, which would distract them from making a decent jump. Falcon used the commotion to his advantage; he looked around to see that no other machines were near him.

Presented with an opportunity, he flew off the edge, passing over other machines, and took the lead over them. Although he still had some ways to go before reaching the crest of first place. Black Shadow noticed Falcon catching up to him; he gritted his teeth in frustration. Déjà vu haunted his vision like an unwelcomed specter. But he wasn't going to let it linger this time.

Black Shadow slammed on the brakes, smashing into a machine behind him; it spun out of control, heading right towards Falcon. He moved out of the way just in time. So did all the other machines. Falcon found himself parallel with another driver as they hurried to catch up with Black Shadow.

Causing mayhem did alleviate some of the stress Black Shadow felt from Sora and his friends invading his lair. And the thought of smashing the Blue Falcon into scrap metal tingled his senses with glee. Both Falcon and the other racers approached the Black Bull. Black Shadow decreased speed, moved to the left, and allowed the racer to drive next to him.

Falcon's stomach tightened; he knew what Black Shadow was planning. The Black Bull rammed into the other racer, sending him straight towards Falcon, who slammed on the breaks to prevent an oncoming collision. He drove ahead of the damaged machine, and gasped in horror upon seeing the Black Bull charge right for him. All Falcon could do was brace himself from the full force.

His body jolted like a sharp lightning bolt; the world spun by him with disorienting watercolors. His chest rattled like pinballs from the array of alarming sensations – both physical and emotional; but he stabilized them into a serene clump. Keeping them loose would ruin his chances at winning.

He regained control of the Blue Falcon, and brought it to a halt. Other machines passed by him. The sounds of the Blue Falcon's running engine were interjected by Falcon's harsh breathing. Sometimes being at a major disadvantage was discouraging – why bother continuing? The hill seemed steeper than before.

But not to Falcon; he relished in the challenge. However, a voice extended an encouraging hand. It was Jody. Her firm, assertive tone was like a pole that kept his balance from tilting off a tightrope. He had another reason for winning this time; to keep her honor as a racer alive. He slammed on the gas, pushing the Blue Falcon's engine to its absolute limit.

Nothing would ruin his concentration. His eyes were locked with the road. He sped by other racers, not even flinching as they tried to cease his progress. They were insignificant obstacles; only the road stood in his way towards victory. Black Shadow entered a wide tunnel; on the other end was the starting line. Four more laps to go. He was ecstatic to be in first place.

And best of all, he dealt a massive blow to both Falcon's machine and dignity. That sprinkled away the muck between the crevasses. How could anyone recover from a brutal strike? Black Shadow looked through the monitor to see if anyone was behind him. Two headlights beaming with indignation were approaching him at a startling rate.

Once the machine appeared next to him, Black Shadow was shocked to see the Blue Falcon. How did he catch up so fast? Where did this renewed driving spirit manifest from? For a moment, he seemed fearful; nothing could stop this F-Zero driver. What kept him going? No. He was one man – an annoying stain that needed to be wiped from existence.

The two stared into each other's eyes with the same burning desire to win. There was too much at stake. Neither of them couldn't afford to lose. Right now, they stood as equals on the road. Only the one with the greatest desire would succeed.

And would dictate the fate of Mute City.

Sora and his friends had little issue disposing of Black Shadow's men. And that's what worried them. It was like being handed the keys to a free car – an ugly, misshaped caveat would slide its long nails across the vehicle, prepared to bring despair upon the proud owner. The group walked through the hallway with careful, unblinking eyes, listening to the sounds of their footsteps.

So far, no one was following them. But they did hear someone talking from a door on the left. Upon entering, they saw it was an empty break room. The source of the voice came from a radio on the counter, which belonged to Mr. Zero, giving a play by play of the race. After restraining Yoshi from devouring the refrigerator, Luigi snatched the radio (to keep tabs on Falcon's status), and they proceeded down the hallway.

They entered the room housing the hearts. Sora felt a bit uncomfortable gazing upon their form, watching them pulsate in helpless captivity. These were ripped straight from people's chest; it was like taking part in a sick, twisted dissection. He couldn't help but be reminded of the man who lost his heart in Traverse Town – that frozen expression of abject terror was a crude afterimage that would always drift by his vision.

"Come on," Sora said, ignoring an unpleasant thread weaving through his chest. "Let's grab the hearts and leave this dump."

They heard Mr. Zero over the radio: "And from out of nowhere, Captain Falcon takes the lead!"

"Alright!" Yoshi said, pumping his fist into the air. "Go, Captain!"

Luigi placed the radio on a chair, and walked over towards one of the containers. "Never mind him. Focus on getting the hearts out of here."

"The hearts can go," a threatening voice said. It was male, but it sounded high-pitched and mechanical. "But you three aren't going anywhere."

Sora winced. Yep. Storming the lair was too easy. Everyone spun around to see a figure dressed in red looming over them. He wore a cape, armor, silver boots, purple gauntlets, a golden belt around his waist, and a red face mask. A respirator mask covered his mouth. He eyed the trio, scrutinizing every single molecule on their skin, pondering on how to eliminate these intruders.

Right now, every pour on Luigi's face was crying with nervous sweat. "Looks like we missed one of Black Shadow's men. Good. You don't seem happy to see us. We'll just go."

"How can Luigi tell he mad?" Yoshi asked, confused. "He wearing mask."

"Who are you?" Sora asked, summoning the Keyblade to his defense.

"I am Deathborn," the man said, "champion of the underworld Grand Prix."

Yoshi's back started trembling in fear. "Underworld? Isn't that place bad?"

"Well, you certainly wouldn't want to go there if you enjoy a good frolic over hot embers and needles," Luigi said.

"Impressive job on leaving Black Shadow's establishment in ruin," Deathborn said. "A brawny idiot doesn't deserve his own hideout. His only fine asset is groveling before me."

"So you're his boss," Sora said.

"Seems like someone's feeble little mind is stuck in the gutter," Deathborn said, narrowing his eyes at the boy. "Yes. His job was that of errand boy – a disposable key that would open the door for me to Mute City."

Luigi analyzed the room's setup. Hearts connected to a portal? Every switch of realization in his head were thrusted upward, making his eyes brighten in horror. "I get it! He needed the hearts to summon you!"

"Correct," Deathborn said. "This world is like a coin – two sides, both completely different from each other. I've been trapped in the underworld for years. However, I was able to establish communication with Black Shadow. To open the portal between our two worlds, the strongest racing hearts from both sides needed to be gathered."

He curved out his hand, producing a purple wave of darkness on each finger.

"I'm afraid your mission to liberate the hearts was meaningless," Deathborn said. "I will gladly free them for you."

Darkness surrounded lids of each container, and they opened, allowing the heart to drift into the sky like butterflies, until they vanished into the ceiling.

"No!" Sora said.

"Don't be concerned," Deathborn said, placing both hands at his side. "The hearts will return to their rightful owners. What's the point in reshaping this world in my image if there's no one around to witness its beautiful horror?" Two purple spheres of energy appeared in his hands. "But I'm afraid trespassers will not be granted admission to such grandeur

Luigi shivered in absolute dread. "Th-that's okay. I hear the book is better, anyways. Less painful ordeal."

"Death will serve as a suitable sanction for your transgression," Deathborn said with a low, menacing hiss.

The group prepared themselves for battle. Sora could feel a chilling aura of power surround Deathborn's body; it was intimidating, like staring down a beast of distinguishable origin. Fueled with an ethereal power that stretched out from time and space itself. But they wouldn't submit to their opponent. They were a team. Nothing could defeat them. They needed to win. Their friends needed help, and only they could answer the call.

Plus, Falcon put his faith in them. Sora couldn't forgive himself if he abandoned that trust.

Likewise, Captain Falcon couldn't forgive himself if was forced to watch the smoke rise from Black Shadow's path of destruction.

The final lap felt endless; it was like the road itself folded out to unnatural lengths. Suspense enjoyed deceiving the subconscious, making it believe time was paddling across the ocean. Falcon, Black Shadow, and a few other racers were neck and neck. The gas pedal was crushed beneath their feet; their machines screamed in pain from exertion.

Zealous fans stood up from their seats, leaning over in anticipation as they saw multiple headlights expand within the tunnel. Falcon thought his heart was moving at the same pace as his machine. Emotions capsized in his chest like a boat. He wouldn't take anything less than first. Black Shadow especially didn't deserve that ranking pinned to himself like a bright, radiating medal.

Once adjusting to the light at the end of the tunnel, they saw the finish line. It was so close. The audience shouted encouraging words. Sweat trickled down the racers' faces. Their bodies trembled from both the overworked engines and nerves.

They exited the tunnel. The racers were swarmed with the rowdy screams of people as they approached the finish line.

Deathborn launched a purple energy sphere at Yoshi, who caught it with his shield. Unfortunately, the dinosaur struggled against its power; the ball exploded, knocking him into the edge of a table. His spine quivered like a palm tree during a hurricane.

Deathborn launched another purple sphere, but Luigi deflected it with his hammer. He went on the offense, swinging his hammer inward. Deathborn caught it with ease; he then pulled the hammer forward, deflecting a strike from Sora's Keyblade. He kicked Luigi in the stomach, took his hammer, and swung it towards Sora.

The boy brought his blade up at a diagonal angle to block the strike. But Deathborn's strength seemed to have been carved from iron, as the force knocked Sora into a wall. He winced as the pain crawled across his body like termites. This wasn't going to be easy. Deathborn's strength matched his imposing physique.

Deathborn hovered into the air, summoning a purple sphere to each hand. Sora shook his head, ignoring the pain, and stood prepared for the assault. Before Deathborn could attack, a Gravity spell from Luigi stunned him; he felt like cylinder bricks were pressing against his shoulders. No matter. This feeble little spell would vanish into the black hole of his incomprehensible power.

But once Sora used his own Gravity spell, Deathborn could not overtake their combined power. He plummeted to the floor, using both hands to catch himself. Sora hurried over to deliver a fierce slash. Deathborn stood up, only having enough time to shield himself, taking the full strike; it managed to make him slide back somewhat.

Sora and his friends regrouped. Fatigue started pattering on their bodies like raindrops. Their combined panting echoed through the room. To their horror, Deathborn shrugged off the attack as if a leaf landed on his shoulder.

"Seems this skirmish might provide some mild amusement," Deathborn said.

Sora's neck tensed in frustration. It was that same arrogant, patronizing tone that slithered out of the throats of Ganondorf, King K. Rool, Nightmare, just to name a few. He was growing tired of their single-minded agendas – to bring nothing but misery upon their own world. To savor every tear as a refreshing beverage. Their lens only looked one way, and it was into a borrow of endless desire.

And, no matter what it took, Sora would find a way to fill that borrow for good. "Yeah, yeah. You're incredibly powerful. Unbeatable. All that good stuff. Blah blah blah. We've heard it all before. You guys are all the same. Just bullies who feel they can do anything they want because they're bigger than us. Pathetic."

"Such childish nonsense," Deathborn said. "Power is the only way to sustain control of life. No one ever takes advantage of it because of fear and ineptitude. But I understand how such strength works. How it commands respect. That's why I'm here: to take control of this world. All will submit before me. Can't you imagine a perfect world where everyone follows orders? Where no one steps out of line?"

Sora shook his head. "Sorry. I'm kind of a free thinker. And so are the rest of us. That's not the life I'd want to live. I've seen what people like you do when they try taking control of everything." He saw a brief flash of his island in ruin, and cut the scene with repressed scissors, never wanting to see more than needed. "And it never ends well for anyone. Which is why we won't let you win."

"Is that so?" Deathborn said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm afraid your free thinking has led you to death. Guess that was a fruitless endeavor."

He prepared two more energy spheres, impassive towards Sora's repulsive speech doused in idealistic honey. Everyone prepared to face him again (although, in his terrified state, Luigi's eyes were transfixed on the nearest exit), tired, but obstinate in letting him win. Even Deathborn started to find their persistence a nuisance.

They were outsiders that meant nothing in the grand scheme of his plans. It was a waste of breath to fight them. But those that stood in his way needed to be taught a lesson in challenging him.

He'd be happy to oblige.

Before the battle could resume, Mr. Zero spoke up on the radio. "And the winner of the Grand Prix is Captain Falcon!"

The group gave each other ecstatic looks. They knew he'd do it. There was never a doubt. Their wild ride through the city yesterday was enough proof (Luigi was still rattled; it took him awhile to even acknowledge the Lobo Ship's existence again). They could only imagine how much of a sore loser Black Shadow was acting right about now.

But Deathborn had a different vision of Black Shadow in his head – it was one of watching him squirm beneath his foot like a vulnerable worm, begging for a sweet release from existence. He was infuriated. Dark energy pulsated through Deathborn's body like uncontrollable waves of electricity, zapping anyone that dared approach his personal space.

He stuck his hand at the radio, making it exploded into pieces. Trails of its wired organs scattered onto the floor.

"Aw," Yoshi said, disappointed, "now me never know who came in second."

"Why did I entrust my plan to someone so inept like him!?" Deathborn said, releasing a discharge of static rage. "All Black Shadow knows is failure. And I plan to make sure he takes his greatest attribute to his grave! This isn't over!"

He enclosed himself in a purple forcefield, and dematerialized into a speck of light before vanishing from sight. The group's shoulders relaxed from the release of stress. But it was only temporary. The battle against Deathborn had only entered the second act.

Yoshi snorted in disgust. "What a nasty temper. Someone needs more hugs in their diet."

"Never mind that," Sora said in a hurried voice. "He's probably heading to the track. Let's go!"

Falcon exited the cockpit, liberated from the stuffiness inside. He inhaled the fresh air to calm the intense emotions squeezing against his chest; they evaporated into a vacuum of serenity. It was over. He let the pleasing sounds of people cheering slide into his ear canal, confirming the end. Normally, he would be basking in the glory, standing tall before his fans, eager to obtain the prize.

But something was different – a feeling of altruism stood at the top of the plateau, wanting to share the victory with someone else. To honor the memory of someone he admired.

Jody. He won this race for her.

"Such resilience!" Mr. Zero said. "Falcon is not giving up that title anytime soon!"

Other racers exited their machines, extending a respectful applause for the victor (except for Goroh, who had kicked his machine in anger, and was rewarded with a stubbed toe). But Black Shadow remained silent within his vehicle, refusing to believe that Falcon bested him again. He had the Heartless; he had Jody's heart – it was like the world conspired against him. For once, he wanted to win. To feel important.

And it would never happen. Losing seemed to be the inevitable.

"The F-Zero committee will now present the champion's prize belt," Mr. Zero said.

Falcon walked up the stairs to the pedestal. The dome opened for him to take the belt. He grinned; that feeling of pride reclaimed the top step. There was still nothing wrong with savoring victory. It was rewarding. I could get used to winning for a while, he thought with delight. Falcon held the belt up for the crowd to see; they cheered again. Their throats refused to tire from the constant injection of elation.

Acceptance final dropped on top of Black Shadow like a bomb. A concoction of anger, envy, and confusion spun through his stomach. He leaped out of the Black Bull, got on all fours, and slammed the pavement. "No! Everything was going according to plan! I should have won!"

"Here's a tip: get good, Shadow," Falcon said, approaching him. "Maybe next time you'll even make second."

Resentment and rage sprang from Black Shadow's eyes, targeting his nemesis. "There isn't going to be a next time—"

A sudden, powerful breeze interjected, perhaps more livid than Black Shadow himself. The stadium lights flickered nonstop. A purple ball of light appeared above the racers, discharging electricity. Soon, it formed Deathborn, startling everyone in the audience. More electricity dispersed throughout the stadium, causing everyone to panic.

"And this is why I don't get paid enough," Mr. Zero said, terrified, slowly rising from his seat "For crazy things like this! W-well, that's it for the Grand Prix. Good-bye, everyone, and….RUN!"

He left the booth. Everyone in the audience screamed in terror, and hurried for the exit, forming a disoriented line of panic and disorder as they ran up the isles. All the other racers boarded their machines to make a quick exit

Deathborn relished in every moment of the chaos. "Now that's quite a welcome – mass hysteria. I love it!"

Falcon had many questions about this mysterious person. But one thing was clear: Mute City wasn't safe yet. His fight would continue. A bit disappointing; he deserved a much-needed rest, but wouldn't be satisfied until the sky was enveloped in that beautiful, peaceful, pink glow again.

"Lord D-Death!" Black Shadow said, trembling in absolute fear.

Falcon stared at him in disbelief. Black Shadow showing submission towards a higher authority? It didn't seem possible. Maybe he really needed that vacation. All this excitement had wrapped his perception of reality. But anyone who made Black Shadow grovel before his feet must be a thousand times worse. Falcon stayed on his guard.

"You failed me again, Black Shadow!" Deathborn said, furious. "One job. You had one job, and you blew it!"

"No!" Black Shadow said, desperate to hold onto even a hair of his life. "I can take him in a fight! He's a toothpick compared to me! Give me one more chance!"

"Oh, don't worry." Deathborn smirked, and held up a hand infused with darkness. "I'll give you another chance. Except it'll be on my terms!"

He clenched his fist together, as if squeezing the life out of Black Shadow's heart like an orange. Indeed, Black Shadow clutched his chest from the intense pain. Every drop of darkness was extracted and started cloaking itself around him. Breathing become impossible. He couldn't even scream to alleviate the pain. His body had been coated in a thick layer of infrangible black paint.

Black Shadow's form grew taller and muscular, until turning into a giant bull, standing tall on two feet, letting out a threatening, sweltering snort from his nostrils. A dark purple spiked club appeared in his left hand. His eyes had been imprisoned behind the yellow, vacant shutters that were associated with the Heartless.

Although most of his humanity was forever lost in a hedge maze of darkness, the desire to cause turmoil lingered. Black Shadow sniffed the air, searching for potential victims to shred between his horns like paper. Falcon was mortified. He despised Black Shadow, but no one deserved to become a prisoner of their own body; to have your own free will relinquished, leaving behind nothing but an empty, obedient husk.

"Must say," Deathborn said, pleased, "this new look suits you much better!"

"Just who are you!?" Falcon asked.

"My name is Deathborn. It's a pleasure to meet the legendary Falcon." He gestured towards Black Shadow. "This mindless abomination has told me all about you. Congratulations on winning that belt. Now, it's time you put it to use!" He removed the golden belt from his waist, and let it levitate into the air.

Falcon was startled as the championship belt left his hand, joining Deathborn's. The two spun around each other, forming a giant green sphere in the center. They continued orbiting the sphere as if it were a bright, youthful planet. The energy pulsated with an immeasurable amount of power.

"What did you do?" Falcon asked.

"Not a thing. You see, our belts are made of the rarest materials – dark and light. Two of the strongest forces in the universe! They are simply reacting to each other. When both are drawn together, they create a power neither you nor I could comprehend. A power of this magnitude can destroy the entire universe. And I plan to take it all for myself!"

"So what's stopping you?"

"I'm looking at him," Deathborn said with an intense gaze. "I cannot simply harness the power. Stories have been passed down through generations, saying that this power can only be earned by the mightiest warrior. Right now, you and I stand as equals – champions of our respected worlds."

Falcon cracked his knuckles. He way always up for a challenge, even if the stakes lengthened towards the stratosphere. Because he had the skill to reinforce his stone wall of confidence. "I see. Looks like it's going to come down to a race then."

"Precisely." Deathborn smirked. He was about to catapult a boulder through that wall. "But why bother racing when I have a secret weapon?"

He snapped his finger, commanding Black Shadow to leap onto the bleachers, cornering a group of civilians. They tried to run, but he refused to let them find an opening. All they could do was cower before the behemoth, stare into its eyes, and see their terrified reflection. He drew closer to them; they felt his hot breath brush against their faces.

"No!" Falcon said. "Leave them alone!"

Instinct commanded him to run, but it was interrupted by Deathborn's cool, callous voice. "Go ahead. Stop Black Shadow. But, by choosing to do ignore the race, you'll automatically forfeit."

"Of course you'd have a stupid rule like that," Falcon said, aggravated.

"Say what you will, but your snarks aren't going to change this quandary. Make a choice."

Falcon saw Black Shadow closing in on his victims. The world was a risk; it, along with everyone, may cease to exist. But he couldn't live with the guilt in failing to rescue those people. Or any others misfortunate enough to become Black Shadow's bullseye. Falcon had been sandwiched between a dilemma; and regardless of the choice, he'd be slathered with the consequences.

Deathborn crossed his arms, frowning. "My patience grows thin! You continue the silent treatment; I'll consider that a forfeit! What do you say? Wish to watch the world burn? Then I guess it's time to—"

He screamed as a burst of energy hit him in the back. Spinning around in anger, he was greeted by the Lobo Ship flying right towards him. Deathborn flew out of the way, just avoiding being at the sharp end of the ship's nose.

"Who dares!?" Deathborn asked.

The ship spun around, firing lasers at Black Shadow's back, causing him to let out an agonizing roar. This gave the audience a chance to retreat. Black Shadow turned around, glaring at the ship, charged purple energy from his club, and unleashed a sphere upon it. The ship moved upward, retaliating with an even stronger blast, consuming Black Shadow in an ear shattering explosion.

Falcon was confused by the ship's design. It was different from anything he had seen before. But he had a strong hunch on who was piloting it. Deathborn just stared in bewildered silence. What was happening? He was about to obtain ultimate power. Everything should have been perfect. But then he remembered the three strangers he fought earlier. It dawned on him like Falcon.

Except he was filled with sizzling fury.

After the ship landed, Sora and his friends disembarked, hurrying over to the captain.

"Sora!" Falcon said.

"You okay?" Sora asked, once they were all together.

Falcon was relieved to see them (although he made sure no one noticed, remaining stoic as ever). "You three are something else. Talk about impeccable timing."

Their reunion was interrupted by the intense roar of Black Shadow. He leaped from the bleachers, landing right nearby them with a stomp that shook the road.

"I-Is that Black Shadow?" Luigi asked, on the verge of panic.

"Afraid so," Falcon said, guilt fleeing from his throat. "Deathborn did…something to him. Gotta admit: for something so big and brainless, he kinda looks pathetic."

Sora concurred. He knew all too well how the darkness changed a person for the worst. "We have an idea on what happened. Right now, go take care of Deathborn! Leave this guy to us!"

"Yeah!" Yoshi said. "Falcon showed his moves last time. Now we show you ours!"

Falcon had found a new appreciate for Sora and his friends; they displayed incredible courage, willing to help others despite the danger. Sure, he was a loner, but seeing their undying loyalty for each other was inspiring. You never had to afraid of the challenges ahead; someone will always be there to offer encouragement.

Just like Jody.

"Alright," Falcon said, giving them a thumbs up. "This fight's all yours." He faced Deathborn. "I accept your challenge!"

"Those meddlers are going to wish they never came here!" Deathborn said, trying to keep the rage from spilling out his pours. "Black Shadow, kill them!"

Black Shadow leaped at the three, preparing to strike with the club; they moved away just in time. Falcon followed Deathborn to the starting line. No matter, Deathborn thought. I'm still the greatest racer in the universe. Falcon's willpower would be eclipsed by a sense of hopelessness upon witnessing his superior skills.

Deathborn's stuck his hand out, causing a giant ring of fire to appear parallel to the Blue Falcon. It soon erupted into a tower of flames, and died down moments later, revealing his machine: Dark Schneider. Its coat was painted in a menacing dark purple; two sharp wings were in each side, perfect for shredding into the frail metal skin of an inadequate machine.

The cockpit opened, and Deathborn started descending into the driver's seat, already visualizing his gloved fingers gliding across the smooth, golden surface of the belts. "How I've waited for this moment. The world will fall into total darkness."

"Good," Falcon said, hopping into his car. "Get those false aspiration out now. Once I hit the gas, you'll see why nobody can beat me!"

Falcon believed he had the advantage. He knew the track layout like his own name. But overconfidence allured the long, pallid fingers of karma. He didn't have an inkling as to how his opponent drove. Deathborn was probably more underhanded than Black Shadow, and would use his otherworldly abilities to cause a fatal collision. Or worse: erase every trace of his humanity until it became a blank slate, written on with submissive ink, force to follow orders. Like Black Shadow.

As the two started their engines, Deathborn created a giant portal in front of them. Falcon had a strong suspicion Deathborn wasn't going to make this easy. He peered through the portal to see what appeared to be the inside of a mountain. The road was made from pure energy, colored a light orange. Ribcages of huge, deceased animals loomed over the track. Lava was located below the tracks, bubbling in delight, waiting to the devour the skin off a potential victim.

Extreme, but appropriate, Falcon thought.

Soon, the race began, and the two entered Deathborn's raceway. Falcon had to be vigilant. One false move, and he would perish along with this world. Not even a vestige of memories would be left in its wake. Everything would be silenced forever.

Black Shadow charged straight for Luigi, who knocked his head aside with the hammer. "A literal bull. How original."

But Black Shadow turned back to him with a furious growl, letting out hard, fast breathes between his teeth; the sweltering heat from his nose tickled Luigi's moustache, and made him tremble in fear.

"But a creative mind should always start with baby steps," he said with a cracked voice.

Black Shadow thrusted his club straight for him. Luigi brought his hammer up with both hands to block the strike. Next, Sora leaped into the air, preparing to attack the forehead. Black Shadow caught the Keyblade with a horn, thrusted his head sideways, and sent the boy crashing onto the floor.

He slammed his club on the ground, producing a vertical wave of energy. Yoshi hurried over to tackle Sora away from the blast. As the two stood to their feet, they heard hoofs pounding against the ground, making the pavement moan in pain. And it was getting closer! The two had just enough time to catch the incoming club together.

Their combined strength was sufficient in keeping the club from making them permanent members of the road. Luigi came in with a hammer strike, knocking Black Shadow to the side. Furious, he stomped a hoof on the ground, leaned his head back, thrusted forward, and unleashed a dark energy beam from both horns.

The group ran to the avoid the beam, but it continued chasing them around the area. Sora used a Blizzard spell to freeze one of the horns, interrupting the attack. That just made the anger inside of Black Shadow accumulate into an uncontrollable ball of rage. He ran right for the three, club raised above his head, prepared to crush them.

Luigi launched a fire spell at Black Shadow's wrist, forcing him to drop the club. Sora went on the offense with a thrust, but Black Shadow lowered his head, catching the strike with the horns, and then pushed the boy backwards. Next, he retrieved his club, and swung inward. Sora leaned his chest back to avoid the strike. He tried countering by launching a Fire spell to the face, but Black Shadow brought the club up to deflected it.

Sora gritted his teeth frustration. Despite being a Heartless, he fighting skills were sharp, and that would present a problem. Black Shadow prepared to strike Sora again, but Yoshi wrapped his tongue around the creature's arm, preventing movement. However, this was a minor inconvenience, for Black Shadow jerked his arm left, sending the dinosaur flying across the area; his chest rattled like wind chimes as he hit the ground.

Black Shadow leaped into the air, spun around, and flew at Yoshi, horns pointed straight at him.

"Yoshi! Look out!" Sora said.

Yoshi managed to scurry away before Black Shadow's horns pierced the ground. He struggled to release them from its hard grip. This was their chance to attack. They ran straight for him. But Black Shadow freed himself, taking a piece of the ground with him. Which he then thew at the three, forcing them to duck.

After stomping his hoof on the ground, he charged for them, and they rolled away from each other. Black Shadow slid to a stop, changed directions, and charged for Luigi. He tried using various spell, but none had the slightest effect. So he was forced to flee.

"Oh, come on!" Luigi said. "Is green just as offensive as red to you!?"

Luigi started approaching a wall that separated the raceway from the bleachers. He leaped onto the wall, and climbed up it, just avoiding Black Shadow's horns. Once again, they were stuck. Luigi leaped over the stuck beast, gained a bit of distance, and prepared his fire punch. After freeing himself, Black Shadow turned around….

….and was greeted by a blazing punch to the face, knocking him into the wall.

"Sora! Now!" Luigi said.

Sora unleashed his spiral attack on Black Shadow. Every shot hit its target, resulting in an explosion, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. Soon, the commotion ceased. The raceway was silent. Black Shadow was concealed behind smoke and debris. Everyone waited in anticipation, hoping that they did their part in assisting Falcon.

Falcon and Deathborn traveled down winding roads, entered dark caverns, and jumped across hot lava pits. Just looking at the bubbling lava made Falcon feel hot. Deathborn veered back and forth like an intoxicated driver, determined to not let Falcon pass. Or better yet, there were no rails. Watching his entire body be masticated within the molten gums would make victory more gratifying.

Deathborn pulled ahead, and manifested mushroom shaped bombs, which he dropped behind him. Falcon frowned, unsurprised. What, was he expecting Deathborn to be a Good Samartin next to Black Shadow? He titled the Blue Falcon upward to avoid the first bomb. Another one was ahead of him. He spun the wheel left, just narrowly missing it.

Falcon wasn't going to lose. Especially to someone that relied on underhanded tactics. Consequences befell the unscrupulous, and honor praised the virtuous. Deathborn left another bomb near the edge of a ramp; Falcon managed to avoid it, clear the jump, and land on the proceeding road. It wasn't too long before he was neck and neck with the underworld champion.

Deathborn was exasperated by Falcon's persistence; it was buried beneath a pile of coal, unable to see the cracks of light that were his superior racing skills. Perhaps it's time he smashed through them. When the two were neck and neck, Deathborn prepared to ram into him. Falcon decreased speed just in time to miss being knocked straight into the sweltering, pulsating river.

The two entered another cavern. Deathborn decreased speed, matching Falcon's, and slammed him straight into the wall. And then held him there in that position. Jagged rocks shredded their teeth against the Blue Falcon, tearing away at its metallic skin.

Falcon tried pushing Deathborn away, but his machine was strong. If he didn't free himself soon, his last moments would be melting into the planet's bloodstream. Once again, he decreased speed, freeing himself from Deathborn's clutches. While Falcon always raced with honor, there was too much at stake this time. He hated the idea of fighting back, but sometimes you must stash away your morals to compete with the unjust.

Falcon slammed on the gas, ramming his machine right into the Dark Schneider's tail like a vengeful bison. Someone retaliated against Deathborn's machine!? This was unacceptable! No one leaves a dent in the Dark Schneider, and lives to gloat about it. Deathborn placed a group of bombs on the track. Falcon drove onto the cavern walls to avoid them.

As he stared returning to the track, Deathborn tried ramming him from the side again. This time, Falcon drove all the way over the cavern, and landed on the opposite side. Now, Falcon tried to ram Deathborn, but he accelerated ahead to avoid the attack. But Falcon wasn't letting him escape. He drove onto the wall again, drove next to the Dark Schneider, and rammed him to the other side, just as they exited the caverns.

Deathborn managed to avoid falling into death's boiling arms. He wasn't going to lose. Everything he planned would be for naught. The two kept ramming into each other, trying to make the other fall off the track. Neither conceded. But one of them would soon submit to the rules of the race. The finish line was in sight.

Ahead of it was a portal that led back to Mute City's racetrack. This conflict would soon be over. They pushed harder against each other, growing closer to the edge. Gravity tried to snatch them, but they recovered in an instant. This barbaric struggle sawn off Deathborn's composure into apoplectic dust. He was tired by Falcon's presence. It didn't matter if he won or not; he just wanted to watch him squirm.

The finish line was close. Both were neck and neck, at top speed. Falcon's hands tightened on the wheels, trying to crush the lingering nerves within them. This was it, he thought. One chance. No repeat performance. Falcon was right near the edge. Deathborn started to ram him again. At the last moment, Falcon spun the wheel with all his might, rotating around the Dark Schneider, making it plummet off the track.

Time let out a slow hiccup as Deathborn's mind clamored so many harrowing thoughts, unable to accept the harsh truth; they squirmed through his throat as if traveling through a sewer pipe, reached the mouth, and shouted, "No! This can't be! How can I lose? It was supposed to be mine!"

Falcon never looked back as he heard an explosion from the Dark Schneider rumble in his ear. The smooth crooning from his machine put him in a state of calm. It was over. He had protected his home from a disastrous fate. But as he crossed the finish line, a concerned feeling grazed at his neck.

He had some unfinished business.

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