The young man pointed. Noor's gaze followed, and his stomach churned. The grisly, shredded remains of several contestants were scattered across the sand, a testament to the explosions they had only heard from a distance. The sight was sickening. For Jean, it was pure terror.
"How do we get through that?" Noor asked, his voice low.
A mountain of a man with broad shoulders and blonde hair stepped forward. "My power might get me through," he said, his voice a low rumble, "but there's no guarantee. A blast like that... I don't know if I can take it."
Keno eyed him up and down. "And what power is that?"
"I can cover my body in steel," the man, Ivanov, explained. "But whether it's strong enough to stop one of those things from blowing me to bits is another question."
Keno fell silent, his eyes scanning the deadly path ahead. "Has anyone else made it across?" he asked suspiciously.
The sharp-featured man with Asian heritage answered, his tone as dry as dust. "A few. The one with wings and the jumper got over it easily enough."
Keno nodded slowly. "Noor, Jean. Stick with me. I can get us through this."
A wave of astonishment passed through the group. A young man about Noor's age, with wavy black hair and a light tan, broke into a smile. "Really? You think you can lead us across?"
Noor looked at him, and a familiar throb of pain pulsed behind his eyes. He felt a strange sense of recognition, and he could see the same flicker of confusion in the other man's face.
"What's your name?" Noor asked.
"Youssef. You?"
"Noor."
They held each other's gaze for a long moment before Youssef's cheerful grin returned. "Good to meet you, Noor."
"This isn't the time for introductions!" Ivanov boomed impatiently. "We need to move before the rest of the pack catches up."
"He's right," Keno cut in. "My friends and I are crossing. Anyone who wants to follow is welcome. I won't stop you."
The Asian youth scoffed. "I'm not following you. I'll find my own way." Ivanov grunted in agreement.
But Youssef and about ten others chose to stick with Keno.
"Keno, what is your power?" Noor pressed, his voice barely a whisper.
"Secrets are weapons in a race like this," Keno replied, his tone meaningful. "The less anyone knows, the better."
Jean nodded. "I don't think Noor would ever use it against you, but... you're right. We keep our secrets. Just be careful. Please don't get us killed."
Keno moved onto the sandy path, his steps deliberate and cautious. The group followed, mirroring his every move, a silent, terrified procession. He zig-zagged, veering left, then sharply right, their hearts pounding in their chests. They were halfway across when it happened.
A scream from the back of the line, followed by a deafening blast. One of the contestants had made a mistake. The explosion threw shrapnel and sand, catching another person in its wake. A chain reaction began, another mine erupting in a fountain of fire.
"Damn it, run!" Keno yelled.
Chaos erupted. They sprinted, Keno's eyes glued to the ground, spotting the subtle disturbances in the sand that marked the mines. Explosions thundered behind them, each blast punctuated by a scream as another contestant was lost. Keno weaved through the death trap with impossible agility, the others scrambling to keep up, their minds numb with fear.
"Almost there!" Keno shouted, the end of the mined section just yards away. "Just a little—"
His foot came down on soft sand. He knew instantly.
The world dissolved into white-hot fire. He felt his body being torn apart, a final, blinding agony before everything went black. He was dead.
And then he opened his eyes.
He was still running, his body whole, the path ahead of him clear. Not a scratch. He stumbled, whispering, "What… what was that? Did I imagine it?"
Shaken, his heart hammering, he saw it—the faint outline of the mine he had just stepped on in his vision. He dodged it without breaking stride. The others, oblivious, scrambled behind him as he led them through the last few feet of the trap. They cleared the path and collapsed onto safe ground, gasping for air, drenched in sweat.
Noor looked back at their group. Only six of them were left. Four were gone.
"Now… I know…" he panted, "…why they call it… the Death Race."
They watched as Ivanov and the Asian youth casually walked across the now-cleared path. The latter—Sairi—shot them a smug grin and began to clap slowly, sarcastically.
"What a magnificent fireworks display," he called out. "Didn't I tell you, Ivanov? Let the mice clear the traps for the cats. Much easier. I could have found my own way, of course, but a little caution never hurts. The name's Sairi, by the way. A pleasure."
Rage burned in Noor's chest. The bastard. He used them as bait.
Ivanov simply gave a lazy wave. "Farewell, comrades. See you at the finish."
The two of them turned and broke into a jog, disappearing down the path.
"Don't let them get to you," Youssef said, still breathing heavily. "I doubt this is over. This has to be just the beginning."
Jean groaned. "Oh, wonderful. That makes me feel so much better."
Youssef managed a weak chuckle, but Keno cut him off. "Enough. This isn't the time for jokes. We move. Now."
They all nodded, pushing their aching bodies to their feet and running after the two who had left them behind.
One of the other survivors glanced over his shoulder. "Hurry. The main pack must have figured out the tunnel trick by now."
That thought spurred them on, replacing exhaustion with a fresh dose of adrenaline. This wasn't a race; it was a desperate flight for survival.
After several more minutes, they spotted them again. Ivanov and Sairi were stopped up ahead, standing with two other contestants they didn't recognize.
"Well, look at that," Noor said with a grim laugh. "Looks like they found another roadblock."
As their group approached, Keno called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Why the long faces? Don't tell me you're waiting for us to clear another death trap for you."
Sairi didn't answer. He just lifted an arm and pointed.
Everyone followed his gesture, and the air left their lungs.
Jean's face went white. "Oh my god. What is that?"
Stretching out before them was a vast, silent lake. Five impossibly narrow bridges spanned its surface, each one barely wide enough for a single person. One wrong step meant a long fall into the water below.
And that water... it was black and still. Too still.
Keno surveyed the obstacle. "Well, at least we can see the path this time," he said grimly.
Sairi let out a short, sharp laugh.
The sound grated on Keno's nerves. "What's so funny?" he demanded.
"You'll see," Sairi replied, his voice calm.
The two strangers with Sairi and Ivanov finally moved. One was a tall, slender youth with enormous white wings folded against his back. "We're not waiting," he declared with an air of superiority. "This looks simple enough. Our powers will get us across, danger or no."
Without another word, they set off. The winged contestant launched himself into the air, soaring gracefully over the bridges. The other crouched and then leaped, covering an incredible distance in a single bound.
"Now," Sairi said softly. "Watch."
From the clouds above, a shadow descended with terrifying speed. It was a falcon, but a falcon larger than an elephant. It dove straight for the flying contestant. Panic seized the winged youth; he tried to swerve, but it was useless. The monstrous bird snatched him in its talons and vanished back into the sky, his screams echoing for a moment before being swallowed by the silence.
The high-jumper, seeing this from his mid-air arc, went pale with horror. He landed hard on one of the narrow bridges and abandoned his strategy, trying to run the rest of the way. He'd only taken two steps when the black water below erupted. A massive, blue-scaled fish with a maw full of jagged teeth shot into the air, its body impossibly long. It devoured the section of the bridge—and the contestant with it—in a single bite, before crashing back into the lake and disappearing beneath the placid surface.
Everyone stood frozen, horrified. The sheer scale of the creatures was reality-breaking. But after seeing their own strange powers, the impossible was starting to feel horribly plausible.
Jean sank to her knees, trembling. "I can't. I can't cross that. We'll all die."
"You'll die if you stay here, too," Noor shot back, his voice tight with tension. "We're in this race. The only way is forward. If we work together, maybe we stand a chance."
Keno turned on Sairi, his voice seething. "You knew. You let them go to their deaths."
"The fewer contestants, the better," Sairi replied without a flicker of emotion. "Besides, they were arrogant. They wouldn't have listened. Confidence is a poison, and they drank it down."
Keno clenched his jaw, but said nothing. He was right.
During their tense standoff, two new figures arrived. One had skin with a faint, sky-blue tinge and soft, shimmering silver hair. The other had rich, dark-brown skin, short, messy hair, and an expression that was both calm and cunning. They radiated power.
Youssef quickly explained what had happened. After listening intently, the blue-skinned youth introduced himself. "My name is Yassin."
The other simply gave a nod. "They call me Ares."