Here lies the heart of the desert.
Endless dunes stretch to the horizon, with each grain of sand shimmering faintly under the scorching sun, as if the ground were strewn with stars. The sky is an almost transparent blue without a single cloud, with only a few vultures circling high above. The air is filled with dry heat, with sparse cacti and wild grass stubbornly emerging from the sandy ground. Rocky hills rise abruptly, their vibrant colors like the master strokes of nature. The entire landscape is silent and desolate, with only the occasional whispers of the wind and distant animal calls composing the sole symphony of this vast solitude.
Three vehicles roared like beasts across the winding desert road, the engines reverberating through the quiet valleys. Leading the pack was a heavily modified dark red Toyota 4Runner, its metallic body glinting coldly in the sunset. Following closely was a Mazda RX-8 with tinted windows, emanating a mysterious power that concealed its true potential. Trailing behind was an orange Subaru Impreza WRX STi, resembling a phoenix in flames, with each sleek line on its body hinting at speed and passion.
"Give it up, Akehoshi, you can't win this. Stop chasing and save your gas." The voice came from the Mazda via the walkie-talkie, obviously addressing the Subaru.
"Hokke! I'm going to give you guys a surprise!" Immediately, the Subaru sped up and caught up with the Mazda's tail. At that moment, the Toyota slowed down, falling to second place, providing an opening for the Subaru.
"We don't necessarily have to stick to the road, right? The only rule was that the first to reach the airport wins!" With that, the Toyota veered off the road into the desert, vanishing from the rearview mirrors of the other two cars.
"I'll be waiting for you at the garage!"
Now, only the Mazda and Subaru were left racing down the road.
"Isara! You cheater, we agreed this was a friendly race." The Mazda sighed, popping a piece of rock candy into his mouth, and, just like in "Fast & Furious," swerved around a series of civilian cars ahead.
"Of course, Hokke! This is exactly our way of showing friendship!"
"The loser washes Makoto's car! That's the deal!" shouted the Toyota to the remaining two cars.
At that moment, the Subaru activated its nitrous, blue flames spouting from its large exhaust pipe as it surged past the Mazda.
Meanwhile, the Toyota that had just left the road jumped over them and sped down a dirt path. Leveraging its off-road advantage, it rejoined the asphalt road ahead of the others after navigating a slope.
"Akehoshi, do you still think you can win?"
"Of course!"
"Wait, why don't I see you guys ahead of me...?"
Then the Mazda, now in the last position, struggled to understand the situation until he saw the airport—the destination of this "friendly race" and their stronghold.
In the middle of this barren desert stood an abandoned military airport, its once busy runway now a black scar eroded by time, stretching into the horizon. Dust danced in the wind, sometimes covering the rusted metallic remnants, other times swirling in a storm and revealing the weathered old control tower. A few derelict planes sat there, their bodies covered in layers of windblown sand, silently telling tales of the past busyness and noise of this land.
Yet, this abandoned airport had come to life. They transformed it into their stronghold, clearing out the old hangars to store and modify their rides. Several meticulously modified cars gleamed in the hangar, starkly contrasting with the surrounding desolation. Inside the modification area, tools and parts piled up, walls covered with blueprints and posters of supercars showing their plans and dreams for each car. The air mixed with the dry smell of rust, along with the scents of oil and fuel, an indication of the new life gradually breathing through the ruins.
Meanwhile, the Toyota and Subaru had already passed through the barbed wire gates of the airport. Subaru performed a stylish drift and stopped at the hangar door, as Subaru Akehoshi—bearing the same name as his car—got out, followed closely by Mao Isara jumping out of the lifted off-roader.
The hangar door cracked open, and Makoto Yuuki poked his head out. "You guys done racing?"
Just as Makoto spoke, the wiry whine of a rotary engine cut through the remaining dust in the courtyard, and Hokuto Hidaka got out of the freshly arrived Mazda, visibly exasperated but accepting his fate of washing Makoto's car.
Before Hokuto could voice his displeasure, another car—a black Mercedes wagon—entered through the barbed wire gate. The person who got out made everyone swallow their words. It was Anzu, the best race coordinator in Silver Rock City.
"All work matters are settled. Subaru, you'll drive the prize car, we've pinned all hopes on Trickstar." She said to Subaru with a faux casualness.
"I told you! Anzu is the most awesome race coordinator in all of Silver Rock!"
"I'm relieved seeing Anzu," said Hokuto.
Suddenly, everyone's attention was drawn to a yellow sports car parked next to the hangar that started its engine. Unknown to them, Makoto had slipped inside and fired it up. This was an old-gen Toyota MR2, whose boxy yet charming body belied its potential. Its custom wheels, large exhaust, carbon fiber hood, and additional air intakes on the C-pillar hinted at a powerful machine.
"Sounds good, isn't it," Mao remarked.
"Of course, I finally got it right!"
"Did you piece this together by yourself?" Anzu asked.
"Yeah! It's an AW11, a rare mid-engine supercharged little sports car!"
Subaru, unable to contain his excitement, jumped into the MR2's driver seat. "Alright, team, let's get to work!"
"Let's hit the road!" Anzu quickly responded.
Each of them knew what lay ahead—a gambit like no other. Success glittered faintly with hope, while the shadow of failure loomed like a suffocating cloud. All focus converged on this moment: to succeed meant a life free from worry; to fail meant facing dire consequences.
As dusk approached, the four cars, like untamed stallions, charged out of the airport and headed towards the neon-lit Silver Rock City. Awaiting them was an illegal racing extravaganza at 7 PM, not just a race but a pivotal moment in their lives.
The four cars raced through the rocky mountain roads, with Subaru uncharacteristically bringing up the rear, familiarizing himself with the MR2 that Makoto had just tuned. "Ukki~ What did you put under this hood? This thing's like an alien spacecraft!" Subaru's exhilarated voice came through the radio.
"First learn to handle a mid-engine car! The car you'll be driving for the race has three times the power of this one!"
"Makoto's right, Subaru, you should really get used to it." Anzu, overhearing, floored the gas pedal, her AMG showing its prowess and leaving Subaru further behind.
"Upcoming right turn!" Anzu warned, but Subaru, unused to the lateral G-forces of the mid-engine car, veered into the oncoming lane. In that split moment, a black Mercedes 560SEL came heading straight at him. The driver swerved, hitting a lamppost, cursing, "Dayum *ing street racers, hope you all get impounded!"
"My god, an AW11! R A R E!" The Mercedes driver caught another glance, "Great cars always end up with these racers."
"Producer, you've done your part. Leave the rest to us," came Hokuto's calm and steadfast voice over Anzu's phone. "Isara will provide support, Akehoshi will drive the Regera, and I will distract the cops while Makoto handles our backup."
Anzu nodded slightly, contemplating the weight of their task. She knew their success hinged on their shoulders. "I've pulled every string and every contact to get you a slot in this race. No room for failure, only success."
"Got it!" the trio chimed together. Subaru, finding his rhythm with the lightweight car, began to ease into the pace, inching closer to Anzu's AMG Hammer Wagon as they approached the Grand Canyon bridge.
"I'm coming up!" Just as Subaru's tail aligned with Anzu's car, Mao's off-roader leaped from a side slope, landing perfectly ahead of the two cars. At the same instant, Hokuto's RX-8 drifted out from a junction, swiftly taking the lead.
The four vehicles hit the bridge, while Makoto prepared for the final leg of their adventure. He loaded Subaru's WRX into a cargo truck, closed the truck bed, and opted for a separate secret route, heading straight to Silver Rock City to their predetermined rendezvous point, ready for the looming challenge.
"One last crucial point," Anzu's firm voice seemed to carve her words into their minds, "Every faction in the city covets the tech in that car, a prototype supercar worth over two million dollars. Especially you, Akehoshi, understand what this means." Her words, like a sharp blade, brought a moment of solemn realization to everyone.
"Understood!" came the synchronized response from all four radios, a silent testament to their bond, "We are the best of partners!"
As nightfall cloaked the scenery, the four cars blended onto the luminous interstate. The darkness became Hokuto's RX-8 ally, allowing it to weave through traffic effortlessly. Subaru's yellow MR2, agile like a wasp, lit up with pop-up headlights, its nimble body carving through the night. Mao's seemingly cumbersome 4Runner moved with unexpected grace under his command, an agile beast dancing among traffic. Anzu's black Mercedes, though understated, carried the undeniable aura of extraordinary performance and value. The four cars drove towards Silver Rock City, towards the unknown challenges ahead.
"Welcome to Silver Rock City, a desert oasis of games. Here, money dictates everything—even luck. The powerful and influential gamble their fates at the card table, while we, the nameless shadows, seek our ascension through races..."
To be continued.