765mph

Vassier’s gaze didn’t waver. “After seeing the ripped paper in the book—the map—I knew someone was in the vicinity. So I staged my plan right there. Then, you tried running from the maids earlier.”

My chest tightened. He wasn’t bluffing; his voice carried the weight of someone who had replayed every moment in his head until it fit perfectly.

He leaned back, spinning the butter knife between his fingers as if it were a pen. “Every argument you’ve made… every conclusion you’ve drawn… comes from what happened in the library. That’s the only information you have to go on.”

His smile sharpened. “And what if I wasn’t planning to kill them? What if I just wanted a reaction? Looks like I just attracted unwanted attention.”

It started as a low, shaky chuckle, then rolled out in waves—rich, unrestrained, like he’d just been told the world’s funniest joke.

The maids didn’t react. Sylvaine froze mid-breath. Gideon’s grip on the table tightened until the wood groaned.

Finally, the laughter cut off with a sharp inhale. Juno—no, Exidus—tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.

“Correct me if I’m wrong.”

He rose slowly, boots scraping the table as he retracted them, as though the entire situation were a mild inconvenience. The mask’s black slash of an eye-line turned toward him like a blade.

“Are you denying the existence of any kind of secret in Solaris?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze flicking behind him to the maids, then back at me.

“Yes.”

Gotcha.

“ERRR—” I made a loud buzzer sound. “That’s… not quite right!”

I had to figure it out now. Right here. Or it was over.

The map. The library. The desert. The radius. Me. Everything was connected. Nothing happens by coincidence. Something was there. Why had it always been the same? Why was the worm the only exception?

“I only need to say one word to stop you.”

“Two words, actually.”

“Behind you.”

The moment his head snapped, an explosion of gas erupted into the dining hall.

“LET’S GO!” I yelled at Sylvi and Gideon. We bolted, sprinting down the endless halls.

The blast hit right where the maids had been stationed, probably delaying their pursuit. A perfect performance.

“This way!” I called, sprinting past the front door.

“But the exit is right there—”

“We won’t get far if we go that way.”

A few more steps and we reached the Sunvault Racing Exhibit. Hover bikes gleamed under the sunlight, polished surfaces reflecting every sharp angle of the garage. Glass cases displayed keys, each one practically begging to be snatched.

“Is that Red Violence?!” Gideon blurted.

Both Sylvi and I turned toward him.

“What?”

“The bike!” he said, almost in awe. “This thing won eight G1 races in a row. A legend. I loved watching it as a kid!”

I glanced at the red machine, sunlight from the nearby windows glinting off its curves. Without hesitation, I smashed the glass case with my elbow,

“AGH. FUCK.” I gripped my elbow, that hurt more than expected. I grabbed the key, and tossed it to him.

“We’re going to become legends in all the wrong ways if we don’t get the hell out of here.”

I moved to another bike—orange, sleek, lethal-looking. Same routine: broke the key case—using my other elbow—and handed it to Sylvi.

“Where’s your bike?” Gideon asked, already gripping Red Violence.

“I’ll ride with Sylvi,” I said, sliding onto the orange.

He raised an eyebrow.

“What, a little jealous?” I teased.

“NO.” Flat. Immediate.

“The hell are you guys talking about? LET’S GO!”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.

Engines roared to life, filling the garage with vibration and heat. The window ahead wasn’t just a way out—it was a leap into chaos.

“Hold on tight,” I shouted, throttling forward.

The window exploded outward as the bikes launched. Glass shards trailed behind us like glittering comets, but there was no hesitation. The city below rushed up to meet us.

Gravity yanked us into free fall. The wind screamed past our ears, the streets spinning into a chaotic blur. The bikes’ thrusters flared, stabilizing us just enough to aim for the rooftops, but the drop was real, the fall unrelenting.

Sylvi’s laugh cut through the roar of air, wild and exhilarated. Gideon’s hands gripped the handlebars like he’d been born to ride moments like this.

I let the bikes tilt, slicing through the free-fall with precision. Every second, the city rose to meet us, every heartbeat a drum of chaos.

“DON’T PULL UP UNTIL I GIVE YOU A SIGNAL!” I screamed in my head, holding tight to Sylvi as we hurtled from A Sector.

The city below twisted in a dizzying spiral—B Sector, C, D… each layer darker, poorer, more desperate. Rusted rooftops and smoke-stained walls blurred together.

The wind screamed in my ears. 400… 450… 500 mph. The bike shuddered with each gust. Panels rattled, the metal frame groaning. Sparks flew from the edges where friction met wind resistance. Every second the speed climbed, the bike’s structure creaked like it might split in two.

Gideon, who was slightly ahead of us, pulled up early, staying safe. I clenched my teeth as we flew past him with impossible speed.

550… 600… the bike’s engine whined in protest, pieces of paneling vibrating violently.

“Not yet… not yet!” I gritted through clenched teeth, keeping the bike stable, feeling each wobble as the wind ripped at us. The city rushed closer—the sprawling chaos of G Sector below, tin and rust, makeshift walkways, fire barrels, alleys stacked with scavenged scrap.

650… the bike shuddered so violently it felt like it might tear itself apart. Sparks flew from the edges of the hover engines, the seat vibrated under me, and the handlebars threatened to twist free. I could feel the throttle fighting against me, screaming in protest at the insane speed.

Finally, I shouted in my head: “NOW!”

But she couldn’t hear me.

Without thinking I tightened my grip around herz. Sylvi yanked back the handlebars with all her strength. The bike groaned and twisted, the metal frame bending, but it lifted sharply, slicing through the wind as we rocketed over G Sector’s rooftops.

The shockwave ripped tin roofs off, sending sparks and debris tumbling. Barrels toppled, leople scattered with screams and yells. Every second the bike threatened to break apart. The hover engines squealed like dying beasts, and yet it carried us, inch by inch, through the chaos.

We threaded through the streets like ghosts, the bike shuddering, sparks flying from panels ripped loose, every turn feeling like it would be our last.

A sharp corner loomed ahead—a narrow alley barely wide enough for the bike. Sylvi leaned hard, pulling us into the turn, but the rear stabilizer clipped the edge of a metal scaffold.

The impact was like a gunshot. The bike lurched sideways, one of the hover engines coughing out a plume of smoke before sparking violently.

“Shit—!” she hissed, fighting the handlebars.

We shot out of the alley, but the engine’s whine turned into a death rattle. The stabilizers gave out. The nose dipped.

The last thing I remember seeing was the rust-and-smoke sprawl of G Sector rushing up to meet us.

Instinct took over before thought could. My arms locked around Sylvi’s waist, pulling her tight against me, turning my body into a shield.

The bike hit the ground with a deafening crunch, flipping end over end. We were weightless for a heartbeat—airborne again—then slammed back down. Something in my shoulder tore. Pain bloomed hot, then numb.

Sylvi’s breath was knocked from her lungs, but she was still in my arms as we were thrown free of the wreck.

The world spun—sky, tin roofs, concrete, sky again. My back hit something solid, hard enough to send a shock up my spine. I slid across gritty pavement, the sound of the bike’s twisted carcass still grinding across the street behind us.

I tried to call her name, but my voice didn’t make it past my lips.

Through the ringing in my ears, I caught the faint crunch of boots on gravel. Slow. Deliberate.

They stopped right in front of me.

The last thing I saw was a shadow blotting out the pale, dust-choked light—then the darkness swallowed everything.