The distant rumble of an engine fills the air, growing louder as he pulls up, cutting through the quiet of the open road. Dust kicks up around his sleek black motorcycle as he parks it with a confident swing of his leg. The bike glints in the fading sunlight, its chrome reflecting the world in a distorted blur.

He removes his helmet, revealing tousled hair and a smirk that speaks of countless miles and untold stories. His leather jacket clings to his frame, worn but well-loved, each scratch a testament to adventures past. Dark sunglasses shield his eyes, but there’s a glimmer beneath—a spark of rebellion, a love for the freedom that only the open road can offer.

“Not bad, right?” he says, running a gloved hand along the polished chrome, his voice carrying a hint of pride and challenge. “This baby’s seen more roads than most people ever will. But I think I could use a new kind of ride… maybe one that can keep up with me.”

He glances his friends way, that familiar smirk playing on his lips, as if daring you to join him in his world of speed and asphalt— he heard a car rumble and it was loud he stood up and his friend looked around and they both seen a car a fast one at that. But they had confused looks on their faces since this was- a biker gang.

Ares went over but didn’t get to close.