A little ways away, before the race started, there was another of the contestants standing there. His feathers were mostly white, except for the red on their tips, like the setting desert sun. He was doing what he usually did; think. At the moment, he was wondering what his parents were gonna say when they find him. He didn't have real parents; he was adopted into a foster family, as well as his 'brother' and 'sister'. Though neither of them had feathers, he was still a part of their 'family'.

But what happened to his real parents?

They probably didn't have enough time for me, he thought bitterly. They probably didn't care. It didn't matter, though; what's past is past, and he had a better time, anyways.

He inspected his board; it was a board he made himself, with the help of a real Extreme Gear mechanic. He went back every week to make sure it was in top condition and to upgrade it accordingly. He loved to race, especially on Extreme Gear. He loved the feeling of flight, with the wind rushing past, and it made him work hard in races. He bragged a lot about his Extreme Gear skills, but he had a reason; he hasn't lost a single race. Last time he counted, he's just won five hundred races in a row.

That made him famous, and infamous, to many people. He's earned many nicknames: the Sandstorm (his favorite), the White Streak, the Thunderclap, all from things he did before. An alternative to 'Thunderclap', 'Lightning Rod', was earned when he raced in a lightning storm and was struck by lightning and still won the race. Another more recent one was earned when he hit the five hundred win mark; 'Blazing Rahz'. He didn't know who 'Rahz' was, but whoever's name it came from was now making him famous.

His board, which he called 'Phoenix Fire', would kick up flames whenever he went fast enough. Every other racer that knew him was afraid of him. Every time they saw him coming down the track, they would quickly move out of the way. He made have a sour attitude and a big head off of his board, but when he was on and in the air…he was a totally different person. Nothing could stand in his way.

As he stood there, he felt the breeze brushing his feathers. He could hear something on it, as if someone was whispering to him.

He sighed irritably. There it is again… He had heard that voice many times throughout his life. He could never understand it, but someone, or something, was trying to tell him something. It was only one word, but it was always very obscure. It got clearer little by little, but only now could he partially understand it.


"Cave?" He frowned. It was much clearer than usual; it was mostly tickling at the back of his mind. Now, however, it seemed he was close to figuring it out. But, he doubted it was 'cave'…

He sighed and turned to look towards where the sun had risen a while ago. He could only see buildings, but he knew the desert was out there somewhere. He would sneak out to race in competitions, but he mostly went to the shifting sands to lose himself in its splendor. He had a bad attitude around other people, but when he was alone he was at peace. He was never angry in the desert; he just flew with the wind and let him just glide with it, as if he were flying. It was almost as exhilarating as racing, but in a different way.

He felt…at home.

Whenever he was tired, he would go and climb to the top of the pyramid and watch the desert without moving an inch. He didn't know why, but it just seemed like the best place to be. At night, he would watch the stars as they seemed to dance around the moon, like a lily pad surrounding by little lotus blossoms…

"The race is about to begin!"

He snapped out of his thoughts and realized he had been daydreaming again. He quickly grabbed his board and did his trademark smirk. "Can't keep them waiting! Here comes 'The Sandstorm'!" He jumped onto his board and sped towards the starting line, arriving right before the countdown started.


He looked around at the competition. No one looked worthy enough.


This'll be too easy! He thought confidently as he dashed after the green light. He had done this many times before, it was almost a second nature.



I know, it's super short, but it's a prologue! I'm trying to keep it simple for now. Doesn't that make you wonder? And I never told you his name, too! CLIFFIE!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Please R&R! Ja ne!