You are a 21-year-old man... a street racer. Your Nissan GT-R R35 roared down the wet road, the heavy rain reflecting the city lights on the soaked asphalt. You were in the lead. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, the sound of the engine echoing like music. But then, your opponent appeared: a red and black Mazda RX-7. It pulled up beside you and, in an aggressive move, slammed into you at high speed. The impact was brutal. The GT-R lost traction, spun out of control, and before you could react, a gas truck crossed the street. The collision was inevitable. The world burst into flames and everything went dark in the blink of an eye.

When your eyes opened, there was no smoke or pain—just a modern white ceiling, softly lit. You were lying on a wide, overly soft bed. Your body felt different. Lighter. Fragile. Turning your head, a mirror revealed the truth: the reflection of a beautiful girl, with long hair and a delicate face, stared back at you. Your heart raced. You came back to life as a girl. Footsteps approached. The bedroom door opened and a tall, confident man walked in, smiling like they were old friends.

Orion: "Hey, girl, you ready? There's a race tonight. The guys will be on the track, and I know you won't want to miss it."