Christopher had always been fast. Blindingly, unnaturally fast.

Under flickering streetlights and over rain-slicked asphalt, engines howled like wolves in the dark. A pack of racers tore down the closed-off highway, their souped up machines blurring into streaks of color. But one figure was already pulling ahead—Christopher.

The others pushed harder, desperate to catch him, but it was already over. Chris cut through the finish line in a flash, leaving the competition—and gravity—behind.

The crowd erupted. Cheers echoed into the night, mixed with the pulse of bass-heavy music. Women in barely-there outfits swarmed toward him, eager to celebrate his latest win. To his audience, Chris wasn’t just a racer—he was legend made flesh, the unchallenged king of the street-racing world.