Matte black, 2JZ engine, sapphire rims, and an added Mclaren Senna chipped wing. Night rider hidden in the pitch of fog, the billows waved like space serpents treading the powerful being present.
"I don't know how we did it, but it somehow runs, I think," one of the mechanics said.
"Shit, we barely know that, the only thing for certain is that the shell is legit, everything else is spare," another chimed.
"It will be enough, it doesn't matter what he has, his hands will create magic. Now where is our lucky rider of the night?" Dante said.
Shades of misery loomed in the night air blocked by grey gas, the slick streets barely seeable. Squinting her eyes, Janan bit her lip, an uneasy feeling was somehow simmering somewhere within. It's not right…something is off, but I can't tell what. That same feeling when I have to meet up with one of them Zeroes, but it's something different. As though I were about to die. Yes, like death is climbing up my back. Oh Koil, don't make me greet you so soon…
A man clad in chrome sat in his shining DMC DeLorean. He beamed at the sight of a hundred red hearted gang members. Tonight's gonna be a riot…and the HERO will make his grand entrance no matter what.
Standing stiff Janan closed her eyes, red flares began to fly off the milky scenery glowing pink, the tremble of clamor, the rolling of cars, the revving of engines, the pumping bass that shook the trees, in the faintest distance one could see the vehicle of challenge prowling forth. They've arrived… Janan looked to her left, "Lev, I thought you said the Northerners were coming, they are not here."
"It looks to be that they found out and are planning for you to exhaust yourself in this race to then commence their war on your land."
"How? Tell me before I tear your heart out."
"We may possibly have a rat, or, I have heard that there has been a mysterious gentleman walking around different districts causing a slight commotion with different gang leaders. He may have bought off one of our men or—"
"Be quiet, it's time," Janan took to the wheel. It's time, Koil, Chartreuse, another match for our lives.
Her hands shook as sweat slipped slowly down her round cheek, her foot couldn't steady. Her breath became bereft, solemnly she pressed her head against the head-rest. I must win… Her heart was pounding, her organs shook, her head throbbed as blood thumped violently, her eyes watered as she licked her dry lips. The roar of cheers, the blurry bright pistons of light were not contained in her focus, only the click of the pistol was what she…
"Holy, she's focused, but where is that dick-wad? He should be here by now," Dante mumbled.
"Who are these guys?" Rad said in disbelief as a battle was raging in the rain. A cluster of color and none all at once made him stand in confusion. Blood mixed with mud, grease caught heat being taken swiftly by the heaven's tears. "What have I walked into? Dante is seriously gonna be pissed. Not like I wanted to race anyway… Damn my hair is getting messed up." A bang silenced the battle for only a second as thunder began to roar, but only one man truly noticed what had just happened. Did I just see a car teleport in front of me?
A man clad in chrome stepped out of the futuristic DeLorean, "You must be Rad," he said, "I'm Steel Hero Hank, captain of Chrono Chrome, District 18. Heard yar in a race, need a lift? I insist, it will be the ride of your life, I promise. Mind you, I always keep my promises."
Rad stood befuddled, but simply shrugged. Screw walking in the rain.
Lightning, a blue inferno, a godly serpent crashing from the skies, blowing away the cascade of pink. A gust swept the heat of passion raising a march of fire stretching to the stars. There he stood wearing his newly embroidered uniform, a letterman jacket glistening with beige gloss as an azure serpent coiled along his back as clouds spelled out Azure Dragons in Lengubé.
"Finally," Dante said, tossing the keys to Rad. "You better win."
"I'll see what I can do," Rad said, catching the keys. Sliding into the driver's seat he smelled nostalgia. "I'm back…" he muttered. In minutes the lane to the race was open, the gun was prepped, both racers were locked to their pedals. Rad looked to his right, a pale beauty mouthed something to him from within her chartreuse Audi Quattro.
"Good luck boyo," Janan whispered. A soft confidence sharply fixed to her face. Her eyes set to the road, blood cold as ice, her frozen stare would incapacitate any man. The folks nearest gulped as they felt their hearts skip a beat, but not in a manner in which they enjoyed.
"Hey, Dante, what's up?"
"Hank. What do you want?"
"Is that what you say to the man who brought your racer here safe and sound?"
"Huh? What do ya mean?"
"Because I am such a gentleman, I'll give ya some quick news…"
Dante's eyes widened in fear. This race had to be stopped, but before he could voice it the gun went off. Two blurring lights fell to the darkness, there was no fixing what was about to occur. Dante turned to face Hank, but just like the flash of a camera he had vanished.
"That shiny bastard!"
A straight, no turns had occurred, the course was new to Rad especially as he had only ever trained on winding mountains, a spec off was not what he was comfortable with. Especially as he had no clue what his car was tuned to, none of the internals he could possibly guess other than the base model; he learned swiftly that this wasn't even close to the original. Janan was ahead by five to six paces, she just kept accelerating.
"Shit! I'm getting nowhere. No…stay patient, bide my time, I just need to close in on her rear…the next turn, once we reach a turn I'll overtake her." Please, a sharp one, as sharp as Damocles, as sharp as God's smite, as sharp as the Devil's shackles, make it so damn sharp I'll have to go back in time just to comprehend it.
"He's not as good as I would have thought." Janan began to think he wasn't much, but that unease was still beside her, like a small beast mumbling curses into her ear. It's itchy, this burning behind my neck. Don't think about it, just focus on being ahead, don't take him lightly. He's against you for a reason, so treat him as such.
Across the prairie two forces gathered, wounded soldiers began to overshadow the red with their own bodily made crimson. The flag of Grand Reo flew through the sky as the rumbling of bikes bored through the noise of confusion as the smell of petrol perfumed the plain of settling mist. Energies unlike anything ever felt before drove a disgusting gravity, flattening grass and crumbling stone. The cathedral was slowly withering as the two battalions reached one another. Dante glared with obvious disdain, with the Heart-Beat's bleeding with such rage that Lev's aura alone separated the condensation around him.
"War! We were ready, for they have come for our lady! Let our hearts bleed! Beat with passion! Cry for our love! Carve 'em up!"
"War! War! War!" "Make 'em bleed!" "Tear their hearts out!" "RAAAA!"
A frenzy of red blooded lovers of pain revved their concealed engines encapsulating the streets with their hot rodded streaks of wrath. Dante smirked at their blood curdling cries as Hank quietly waited in his DeLorean conflicted by the sudden defence until he felt a chill worse than failure. A man dressed like he was born of a separate time and place knocked on his window. His snicker pained Hank's body into wishing he could run away. He wanted to scream, but no words would come out. In the faintest of light Hank could see it, a swallow…