"They thought you went soft, Li," Jax said, handing him a helmet. "They think the new blood owns the strip now."
He didn’t pack much. Just his custom-tuned drive-core and a pair of scuffed racing gloves. When he stepped off the mag-lev at the station, the smell of ozone and burnt rubber hit him like a physical blow. It felt like home. Li 9 - back on that
It started with a single encrypted ping on his old handheld: “The circuit is open. Sector 9. Midnight.” "They thought you went soft, Li," Jax said,
Li clicked the helmet into place, his vision overlaying with tactical data and heat maps of the Sector 9 tunnels. He gripped the throttle, feeling the engine roar to life, a low-frequency growl that shook the very foundation of the hangar. When he stepped off the mag-lev at the
"You're late," a voice rasped from the shadows of the hangar. It was Jax, his old mechanic, leaning against a sleek, matte-black interceptor that looked more like a weapon than a vehicle.
Li ran a hand over the cold metal chassis. He could feel the dormant power vibrating through the frame. He climbed into the cockpit, the interface sync-linking to his neural port with a familiar, sharp sting. The dashboard bled into life, glowing amber.