Collei walked toward Ayaka, each step deliberate, grounded, her boots crunching faintly against the gravel of the pass summit. The night was cold, but the tension between them burned hotter than engine oil under redline. Ayaka stepped out from the shadows beside her Levin, arms folded, expression composed but sharp—like a blade sheathed just barely.
They stopped just shy of arm's length. Neither blinked.
Ayaka's lips curled into a smirk, her tone smooth, but undercut with the subtle edge of someone who knew exactly what they were walking into. "So… the time has finally come," she said, voice calm but with a thin veil of warning. "Just to remind you—this course is tight, narrow. One mistake, and you're scraping guardrail or going off the side. It's a precision trial."
Collei stared her down, unflinching. "I don't care," she shot back, her voice even, steel laced behind every word. "Let's get this race going."
Ayaka's smirk deepened, her arms still crossed. "Alright then. Let's make it a sudden death match. We take turns leading and chasing. First to pull a gap or execute a clean pass… wins."
The unspoken challenge surged between them—no tricks, no excuses. One-on-one. Trueno vs. Levin. Skill against skill.
Collei's lips twitched into the ghost of a grin, her pulse quickening. "Sounds like a plan."
She spun on her heel, slid into the driver's seat of her AE86 Trueno, and let her fingers curl around the suede-wrapped wheel. Her breathing slowed, syncing with the calm before ignition. Meanwhile, Ayaka climbed into her turbocharged Levin, snapping the harness down tight, her eyes narrowing as she wrapped her fingers around the short-throw shifter like it was a weapon.
The engines roared to life—two distinct beasts with separate voices. Ayaka's Levin let out a guttural growl, the wastegate venting with a high-pitched hiss as the revs built in anticipation. Collei's Trueno screamed sharper, cleaner, the tone rising like a war cry the higher she blipped the throttle.
They rolled forward, lining up side by side under the dim mountain lamps. The starting point loomed—a stretch of cracked pavement leading into shadowed turns that twisted like a snake's spine. Collei had made her call: she'd chase first.
3… 2… 1… GO.
The Levin rocketed off the line, the rear tires lighting up just enough to squeal before they hooked. Ayaka dumped the clutch perfectly—turbo lag minimal thanks to her high-strung launch. Her car pulled like a slingshot.
Collei's Trueno lagged behind by just a beat, the naturally aspirated engine winding up hard as she revved into the high band. She feathered the throttle, dumped the clutch just above 8000 RPM, and the Trueno sprang forward, its rear end twitching for traction.
First corner: a tight S-bend.
Ayaka braked late, hard—heel-and-toe perfect, rev-matching with brutal precision as she dropped into second. Her Levin dove into the apex, tires clawing for grip. Collei mirrored her move, but her braking was sharper, her downshift crisp, the Trueno hugging the inside line so tightly her left tires almost dipped into the gutter.
The tach surged—8000, 9000, 9500 RPM.
10,000.
Collei clenched the wheel, her hands tense on the leather. The engine howled like it was alive, begging to be unleashed, and yet—she held back. Just a hair.
"Eleven thousand…" she whispered. The number hung in her head like a loaded trigger.
But her foot hesitated. The revs held steady just below the danger line.
"What the hell is this handling?" she muttered, eyes flicking across the narrow road, the tach, the rearview, the mirror. The Trueno felt taut, alive—light on its feet. The harder she pushed, the more it seemed to bite down on the asphalt like a wild animal straining against a leash. At 9000 RPM, it surged forward like it had a second wind, but it wasn't violent. It was clean, surgical. Controlled rage.
Up ahead, Ayaka's turbo finally spooled to full pressure—the hiss turned into a scream. The Levin lunged out of the next bend, downshifting cleanly, her tail end snapping just wide enough to drift, then catch.
Ayaka peeked at the mirror, narrowing her eyes. Collei was still there. Still glued to her.
"You've got a finely tuned machine, Collei," Ayaka called through the open window, her voice strained only by adrenaline. "Even for your first true run, you're keeping up. Looks like I don't need to take it easy after all."
Collei didn't answer. She was focused, eyes locked ahead, scanning every inch of Ayaka's line, every micro-adjustment of her steering.
The next sequence was brutal: descending switchbacks strung together like a slalom course. The margin for error was measured in inches and nerve.
Both AE86s dove in—rear tires kicked loose simultaneously. The Trueno and Levin pitched sideways in perfect harmony, synchronized chaos.
Rubber screeched. The smell of burnt tire filled the air. The right rear quarter of Ayaka's Levin kissed a roadside bush. Collei's rear bumper grazed it a breath later.
Ayaka's voice dropped to a murmur inside her cockpit, tight with competitive heat. "I chose the AE86 to prove that old steel still owns these mountain passes. But racing another AE86? That's the real test…"
She gritted her teeth, heart pounding.
"…And I'll show you my Levin is superior."
She flicked her eyes to the mirror.
Then she saw it.
Behind her, the Trueno glowed.
A faint orange light pulsed from its undercarriage, flickering along the side panels, almost like heat haze, like spiritual energy bleeding from metal and rubber.
"…What the fuck…" Ayaka breathed. "That's… that's insane."
She leaned forward instinctively, her pulse accelerating. "I can see it… your aura. It's coming off your car, Collei…"
It wasn't NOS. It wasn't magic. It was something else. Willpower leaking out through steel and speed.
Nearby Stairway – The Spectators
At a concrete stairway carved into the mountainside, Keqing, Ningguang, and Ganyu stood vigil.
Far above the main road, the wind bit at their jackets as they stared into the dark.
Ganyu shifted her weight, hugging her arms across her chest. "This really the best spot we could find?" she asked, mildly irritated. "I feel like we're missing the action."
Keqing kept her eyes locked down the pass, chin tilted up just enough to scan the descending curves. "Everywhere else is either too dangerous or too steep. This is the safest vantage we've got—and we're still close enough to catch glimpses."
Before anyone could speak again, a pair of blazing headlights sliced across the trees—bright and blinding.
WHOOOOOSH.
Ayaka's Levin screamed into view, turbo shrieking. Collei's Trueno was right behind her, almost tucked under her bumper. The echo of their engines bounced off the mountains, each gearshift punching through the silence.
They tore through a tight right-hander, tires howling, exhausts blazing like torches.
Ganyu blinked, stunned. "Holy shit. That's close."
She leaned toward Keqing, curiosity bleeding into awe. "Okay, serious question—what's the difference between their cars, exactly? I know one's a Levin, one's a Trueno, but what does that mean on a run like this?"
Keqing smirked slightly. "Ningguang, you wanna take this one?"
Ningguang nodded, smiling with a glint of pride in her tone. "Gladly. On paper, both are AE86s—same platform. But Ayaka's Levin is turbocharged. That gives her way more top-end power, but with lag. It takes a moment for her boost to build up after a corner, so she's slower coming in and out unless she drives aggressively."
She pointed down the mountain, her finger tracing the path they just flew through. "Collei's Trueno? All motor. Tuned to hell and back. No turbo, no delay. Throttle response is instant. It's surgical. She can control every ounce of grip through the corners without waiting on forced induction."
Keqing's voice darkened slightly, her arms folding tighter across her chest. "And if Collei finally pushes to 11,000 RPM like Arlecchino told her to…"
She looked back at the dark curve where the taillights had vanished.
"…Ayaka's in for one hell of a night."
The race grew more intense with every passing second, the night air now vibrating with the raw force of two AE86s pushed to their respective limits.
Collei leaned into her seat, hyper-focused, sweat tracing lines down her temples. Her Trueno screamed through the gears, the freshly tuned engine rasping with a ferocity she still hadn't fully come to terms with. The tachometer needle climbed again—9,200… 9,500… and it held. The growl beneath her foot grew deeper, hungrier. She could feel the car pulling forward with intent, closing the narrow distance between her and Ayaka's turbocharged Levin inch by inch.
The final corner of the downhill approached like a guillotine, fast and vicious.
Suddenly—Ayaka jerked her wheel to the right.
Collei's eyes snapped wide.
A dirt-covered sign—previously swallowed by the dark—lunged into her field of vision, barely visible under Ayaka's sudden swerve.
"Shit!" she barked, snapping the wheel right. The Trueno's tires shrieked in protest as the front end tucked just inches from the rusted guardrail, gravel pinging against the undercarriage.
Her breath caught, and she exhaled sharply, heart hammering like it was trying to tear through her ribcage.
"That's too fucking close!" she spat, her voice vibrating with adrenaline. "What the hell was that, anyway?"
But she had no time to dwell. The downhill run was finished—just the first half.
In perfect symmetry, both AE86s slammed their handbrakes. The tires screamed in unison, and the rear ends kicked out with precision. In a plume of tire smoke, both machines rotated 180 degrees and came to a halt—fronts now facing the climb.
Collei now had the lead. Ayaka's Levin pulled in behind her. The roles had reversed.
Ayaka's headlights flashed once, twice. A clear message: Round two. Let's dance.
Collei didn't wait for a third signal.
The Trueno launched forward, the rear tires briefly losing traction as the high-revving engine rocketed them into the first corner of the uphill.
The Second Run Begins
Ayaka stayed locked on Collei's rear bumper. Her eyes sharpened behind the wheel, reading everything.
"Second run… Now I'm the one chasing," she thought coolly. "Let's see what makes you tick, Collei. I'll break you down corner by corner."
Collei pushed hard, her hands tight at ten and two, knuckles white under the strain. She shifted at 9,500 RPMs again—still holding back from that terrifying 11,000 limit Arlecchino had warned about. The Trueno snarled up the incline, but the Levin stayed glued to her ass, its turbo spooling like a jet engine preparing for liftoff.
Inside the cockpit, frustration started to gnaw at her nerves.
"This road is shit!" Collei shouted, voice bouncing inside the stripped-out cabin. "It's too fucking bumpy—and the outer edges are useless, covered in dirt! I can't push through the lines I want. There's no clean exit anywhere!"
Her steering corrections grew tighter, faster, but her line stayed intact. Even so, every foot of asphalt felt like a gamble. Ayaka was still there—unrelenting, mirror full of high beams and pressure.
Meanwhile, at Yougou Shrine…
Arlecchino stood alone beneath the starlit canopy of Mount Yougou, arms crossed as she stared out into the night.
The wind tugged at the hem of her coat, but she didn't flinch.
"Collei…" she murmured under her breath. "You better figure this out soon."
She closed her eyes, letting her mind wander back to their last late-night conversation—garage lights flickering, grease on both their hands.
"You kept telling me it doesn't corner the way it used to," she'd said.
"Now you know why."
"After I installed that new engine, the power output changed. The whole weight balance shifted. So I had to touch the suspension too."
"But there's a reason I went this route."
"If you push it to 11,000…"
"You'll corner faster than you ever thought possible."
The Turning Point
Back on the uphill, something changed.
The connection between Collei and the machine tightened. It wasn't just the sound, or the G-forces—it was something deeper. Her fingertips began to feel the road through the wheel, like the car was whispering to her. Telling her where to go. How fast to brake. When to trust it.
The tachometer crept upward again—9,200… 9,800… 10,000.
She hesitated—then shifted.
The needle dropped back into the power band—but something was different.
Collei's eyes widened. "What the hell just happened? Did I imagine that!?"
The Trueno surged forward like it had been holding back this entire time. The throttle response sharpened, the pull from third to fourth snapping her head slightly back.
Then came the next straightaway. She kept her foot in it—let the RPMs climb again.
This time, she shifted later—10,500.
And the car didn't falter. It screamed.
The Yougou Eight-Six had woken up.
Spectators at the Stairway
Keqing, Ningguang, and Ganyu stood in silence as the two cars once again ripped past, their engines shrieking into the mountain night. The sound alone felt like it could split rock.
The air around them hung thick with tension and gasoline vapor.
Then Ningguang smiled, eyes narrowing.
"Looks like Collei is finally getting the hang of that new engine," she said.
Keqing and Ganyu both turned to her, brows raised.
"Huh!?" Ganyu blinked.
Ningguang tilted her head slightly, still watching the road.
"The Yougou Eight-Six… is back."
Collei's Breakthrough
Inside the Trueno, everything clicked.
10,200 RPMs.
10,700.
She wasn't fighting the car anymore—it was obeying her. The chassis felt lighter, sharper. The front end bit harder into every turn, and the rear rotated with surgical ease.
Her grin split wide.
"At this range… I can control the car even better. It's a lot easier now. Just like before!"
She blasted into the next hairpin. No hesitation. She turned in, caught the weight shift perfectly, feathered the throttle—and the car danced.
It was beautiful. Brutal. Perfect.
"A few days ago, I was struggling just to keep this thing on the line," she thought. "Now…"
"Is it because I'm finally revving it high enough…?"
The answer was right in front of her.
And she was about to cross that final threshold.
Ayaka's Perspective
Ayaka trailed closely, eyes scanning every twitch, every correction Collei made.
Something was off. Not wrong—off.
Collei's driving had changed. Cleaner. Sharper. And that aura…
It wasn't orange anymore.
A deep, blazing red glowed around the Trueno, faint but unmistakable in the darkness.
Ayaka blinked hard. "What in the…?"
Her heart skipped once. But she shook it off, jaw tightening.
"Doesn't matter," she growled. "I was just playing observer for this run. I've seen enough."
"I know exactly how your Eight-Six behaves now."
But what Ayaka didn't know—what she couldn't yet see—was that Collei hadn't finished evolving.
She was still climbing.
The Breakthrough
The straight opened before her. Nothing in the way now.
Collei's eyes flicked down to the tachometer.
8,000…
9,000…
10,000…
10,500…
10,800…
"Come on… come on…"
The needle slammed past 11,000.
Her pupils dilated. Her foot stayed planted.
"This is it!"
She grabbed the shifter, yanked into fourth.
The Trueno exploded forward. A violent lurch—the rear tires chirped from the sudden torque. The engine howled, a raw scream unlike anything she'd heard from the car before.
Ayaka's eyes widened. "What the hell was that!?"
She floored it, turbo screaming in protest as she tried to keep pace. Her Levin clawed at the incline, power surging, but it wasn't enough.
Collei had found something else.
And now—she was pulling away.
They reached the end of the second run, executing another flawless 180-degree handbrake spin.
Twin howls of tortured rubber sliced through the night air. Both rear ends kicked out in unison, smoking and screeching as the two AE86s rotated on a dime, their headlights casting streaks across the asphalt like blades drawn in perfect synchronization.
Now, Ayaka led. Collei chased.
Collei flicked her high beams twice. A challenge fired like a bullet.
Ayaka didn't hesitate—her right foot dropped like a hammer, slamming the accelerator to the floor. The Levin's rear squatted down, tires gripping hard as its 4A-GE screamed to life again.
The final round had begun.
The Pressure Intensifies
Ayaka caught a glimpse of her mirror—and her stomach twisted into a knot.
The Trueno was right there. Practically glued to her bumper.
"What the hell!? How is she keeping up!?"
The cold grip of disbelief tried to sink its claws into her—but she shoved it down.
Behind her, Collei's hands were clamped tight on the wheel, her knuckles pale and twitching with every microcorrection. The engine's roar wasn't just mechanical—it was alive, something wild finally unchained. The tach needle was soaring past ten-thousand again, right back into that brutal powerband.
"This car feels amazing. It finally responds to me…"
Each corner came faster now. Each shift slammed home with purpose.
"This is it. I'm going to end this—right here, right now."
But just as she locked into her rhythm—
Ayaka switched gears. Figuratively and literally.
Instead of her usual four-wheel drifts, she began gripping the corners—diving in clean, surgical, every tire angled for maximum contact, no waste, no flare.
Collei's pupils contracted.
"What the hell!? She changed her driving style!?"
It was like racing a different person. Ayaka wasn't sliding—she was slicing. Precision over style. Efficiency over aggression. And at these speeds, that meant everything.
Collei gritted her teeth, struggling to keep pace through two brutal hairpins.
Her tires screamed in protest, the Trueno swinging wider than she wanted.
But she didn't lift.
She didn't blink.
Pushing the Limit
Collei's breaths came short and fast, every muscle in her body wound tight like steel cable.
"I've got the engine. I've got the revs. Just keep pushing."
Her right foot stayed planted as the tach screamed past eleven-thousand again, the shift slamming in with a deafening clunk. The acceleration pinned her into the seat like a bullet fired from a railgun.
But then—it came.
A fast left-hander with a broken shoulder.
Too fast.
She went in wide. Way too wide.
The rear tires clipped dirt. The grip disappeared.
"NO! NO, COME ON!"
The Trueno broke traction violently. The back end snapped out. Dust and gravel exploded from under the wheels as the car careened sideways, inches from the metal guardrail.
She yanked the wheel with both hands, muscle and instinct taking over.
The tires bit—barely.
The car snapped straight, fishtailing with a vengeance before she pulled it back under control.
"That was too damn close..."
Her breath caught. For a second, her pulse was louder than the engine.
"One inch more and I would've kissed the rail. I need to be careful or I might lose more than just this race."
But then she slammed the throttle again.
The engine screamed its approval.
"Not yet. I'm not backing off now. Not when I'm this close!"
The Final Showdown
The road pitched upward—sharp, brutal.
Then…
Launch.
Both cars caught air. The suspension unloaded with a violent jolt.
SLAM.
They landed hard, metal-on-metal grinding, the chassis groaning from the impact—but neither driver lifted.
The Trueno bounced, then reconnected with savage precision, snapping into another drift.
Collei's eyes lit up.
"It's just like before… The more I stay on the gas, the more stable it gets. The more it swings with control."
She felt it—not just in the tires or the wheel, but in her spine. In her bloodstream.
The Eight-Six was alive.
A small, wild smile curled at her lips.
"Thanks, Dad… I get it now."
Her grip tightened on the wheel, body locked in perfect sync with the machine.
She roared.
"ALRIGHT! LET'S SHOW HER WHAT YOU'RE MADE OF!!!"
The Decisive Moment
They tore past Ningguang, Keqing, and Ganyu one final time. The wind from their slipstreams nearly knocked the onlookers off their feet.
No one spoke. They couldn't.
Up ahead—the final corner.
A fast right-hander. And a patch of dirt still blocking half the inside line.
Collei's eyes narrowed. Opportunity.
Her foot crushed the gas pedal flat.
Ayaka's senses spiked—then she saw it.
To her left. In the dirt.
"What the fuck!?"
Collei's Trueno was right there. Sliding beside her.
On the dirt.
"NO WAY! There's less dirt there now—!?"
Collei's chassis rattled like a jackhammer as the Trueno tore across the uneven surface. Her suspension worked overtime, rebounding hard, tires slipping on every jagged patch. But she kept it pinned.
Ayaka's eyes went wide.
"She's out of control—she can't possibly—"
Then—
Collei shifted.
Stomped the throttle again.
The Trueno hit a dirt mound and launched.
SLAM.
It landed squarely in front of the Levin.
Sparks burst from under the frame as the rear axles absorbed the impact.
Collei yanked the wheel and countersteered with ruthless precision.
Drift. Perfect. Controlled. Victory.
Ayaka's mouth dropped.
"She's out of her fucking mind!"
Collei eased off the gas for the first time in minutes, her body trembling, the adrenaline high finally cresting.
A grin broke across her face—feral, exhausted, victorious.
"This race is over. I won."
The Aftermath
At the starting line, Clorinde, Amber, Beidou, March, and Pela stood on edge—waiting, breath held, fists clenched.
Then—
A roar of engines.
Headlights flared over the crest.
Leading the pack, Collei's Trueno came screaming into view—its pop-ups still ablaze, her fist punching into the night sky in raw triumph.
The crowd went berserk.
Amber jumped and whooped. Beidou punched the air. March nearly tackled Pela in excitement. Clorinde simply nodded—stoic, but proud.
Minutes later, Collei climbed out, every joint in her body aching, sweat plastering her shirt to her skin.
Ayaka approached, arms crossed.
A crooked smirk on her face.
"Collei... You're one crazy son of a bitch."
Collei laughed, breathless. "Thanks."
They shook hands—firm, real.
Respect earned.
A moment passed. And then Collei turned, sliding into the driver's seat once more as the convoy prepared to head home.
A Quiet Victory
By the time she pulled into the driveway, the night had fully claimed the sky.
Silence greeted her.
The Trueno ticked and cooled behind her, its hood still radiating heat from the gauntlet it had just endured.
She stared at it, quiet.
A beat.
A breath.
Then she turned to the porch.
Arlecchino leaned on the railing, arms folded, cigarette glowing red in the dark.
"Looks like you're back late, kid."
Collei yawned, dragging her feet. "Yeah… I know."
Arlecchino sauntered over to the Eight-Six, eyes scanning the frame.
A nod.
"You've got about an hour before your delivery runs."
Collei groaned. "I know. Just wake me up."
Arlecchino shrugged. "Sure."
Collei moved toward the door, then stopped.
She turned, gaze drifting to the Trueno again.
"I never knew our car was that good."
Arlecchino raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
Collei's voice dropped, softer now.
"Maybe you should teach me more about engines sometime."
A beat.
Then Arlecchino laughed—a dry, amused snort.
"What made that light bulb in your thick skull finally turn on?"
Collei smirked.
"Because I realized… there were gaps in my technique."
She disappeared inside.
Arlecchino lingered a moment longer, her eyes drifting back to the Yougou Eight-Six.
She smiled. Not wide. Just enough.
"That's my girl."
And just like that—
The sorrow. The confusion. The frustration.
All of it ended.
The Yougou Eight-Six had been reborn.
And a new legend had begun.