The early morning sun bled through the blinds of Leonardo's apartment above the garage, streaking golden rays across the concrete floor and the piles of mechanical sketches, tool kits, and open manuals scattered throughout the space. He stood shirtless before the mirror, a towel hanging from his neck, his dark hair damp from the shower. The silence inside his head felt unusually loud.
No system prompts. No glowing messages. Just the sound of birds and distant traffic.
Day four.
He poured black coffee into a steel mug, took a sip, and stared out the window. From here, he could see the street in front of the tire shop, already busy with early risers and modded cars pulling in and out for tune-ups. He had made himself part of the scenery, a quiet fixture no one questioned anymore.
And still, Dom's crew remained at the epicenter of it all.
Leonardo had memorized the timeline—every beat, every scene, every explosion of tension and loyalty that built toward the unavoidable reveal. Brian was running out of time. Vince was dangerously close to discovering the truth. And the police weren't waiting anymore.
But this time, Leonardo wasn't watching the movie. He was inside it.
Later that day, he arrived at Toretto's Market and Cafe.
The familiar chime above the door greeted him. Inside, the crew had taken over the rear corner booth—Dom, Letty, Jesse, Leon, Vince, and Brian. Mia stood behind the counter, arms crossed, her eyes trailing from Dom to Brian.
"Leo," Dom said without looking up, flipping a page of a parts catalog. "Thought you bailed."
Leonardo stepped over to the counter. "Nah. Just needed some space."
Mia passed him a bottle of water. "Dom's been thinking of inviting you to Race Wars."
Leonardo raised a brow. "Is that so?"
Dom finally looked at him. "You're not fast, but you're sharp. You've been quiet long enough. It's time we see what you're really about."
Leonardo offered a nonchalant nod. "I'll think about it."
"Don't think too long," Letty added, smirking. "You miss the deadline; you're watching from the bleachers."
Brian shot Leonardo a glance. Suspicious. Curious. Like he was trying to pin down a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.
Leonardo offered him a cool look and a nod, then took his water and left.
That night, Leonardo sat on the roof of his apartment, cross-legged with blueprints spread across the concrete. He was working on a concept for an inline fuel management chip that could calibrate fuel-air ratio on-the-fly for turbocharged engines. Nothing too futuristic—just enough to shake up the 2001 tuning scene.
His pencil paused as he glanced toward the open sky.
No prompts. No progress bars.
He didn't realize how much he'd depended on the system until it vanished.
But he wasn't helpless.
He was still Leonardo.
On the fifth day, Brian followed Dom and Vince to a shop outside the city. Leonardo tailed them discreetly in a borrowed Civic, staying three cars behind, silent and careful.
He watched as they met with Hector. Saw the envelope exchange. Noted the heavy crates in the back.
Brian had a camera on him.
Leonardo couldn't interfere—but he could observe.
Brian's duality was cracking. He saw it in the way Brian looked at Mia, how he hesitated before saying anything near Dom. The guilt was eating at him.
Leonardo knew that guilt. He'd lived it once in another life.
And guilt like that had a shelf life.
Day six.
The calm before the storm.
Word had spread—Race Wars was confirmed. The whole crew buzzed with preparation. Jesse was tweaking his laptop day and night. Leon was loading parts into a van. Letty was scouting the desert venue with Mia.
And Dom? Dom was watching. Waiting.
Leonardo approached him in the alley behind the shop.
"You ever think about walking away from all of this?" he asked quietly.
Dom didn't turn around. "You ever think about standing still long enough to enjoy what you've built?"
"Sometimes," Leonardo admitted.
Dom glanced back. "Then maybe you should. Before you find out what happens when you can't."
A beat passed between them.
Leonardo nodded. He understood.
On the morning of day seven, Leonardo woke before dawn.
He washed up, dressed, and opened his interface.
Still nothing.
He stepped outside and found the street humming with activity. Dom's Charger was parked nearby, freshly polished. Brian was talking to Mia beside her Integra, both speaking in low, serious tones.
Leonardo kept walking.
He didn't need the system to know this was the day everything would tip.
He could feel it.