By Timmesque


Chapter One – Fervor

The lightning streaked across the sky, cutting it in half. Below the sky, lay the Wastelands, jagged, rough lands that stretched into the Great Expanse. Dark and shadowy, very few people ever came to this place. They all tried to get a house in the Atmosian lands, scrambling to reach that feverish beauty that haunts the white, pristine landscape.

And forever, in the sky, the thunder rages its battle, hammering against clouds and stars, the dark blotting out what little safe light there was. But there were fires burning in the Wastelands.

And the race goes on.


The chanting was loud and eerie today.

The Dark Ace was used to it, but he couldn't help noting that today, they were rather… fatalistic. As if they wanted to see blood on the Wastelands and broken bodies strewn over the red-black soil. He grumbled in his mind that the glamour of Land Racing should not be that firmly entrenched in their minds. There's nothing vaguely romantic about dying here alone in the Wastelands. He revved up his motorbike. Ah well, let them be.

All he had to do was keep on winning.

Easy enough, he smirked.

"Start your engines! –And Go!"

Dark Ace took off immediately, but what was this? There was a man on a blue and grey bike with an unusual emblem on it. He didn't take time to squint, but it looked like… a hawk? The man was fast and already gaining on the Dark Ace. The man growled and accelerated some more, but with the ease of a bird, the stranger had already passed him. He could hear the audience gasp at the back of his head.

The Wastelands is a tricky place to race. There were lava cracks in the ground and constant steam and rubble to deal with. But this man, the Dark Ace thought, was driving like he was born to race. It was an unusual feeling to sense from someone, considering how dangerous and lethal the Wastelands are. And, he admitted, somewhat electrifying.

"And the winner iiiiiiiiiiis Aerrow the Storm Hawk!"

A hush had fallen over the crowds. The winner was not the Dark Ace? Didn't the Dark Ace always win? Who was this Aerrow? The stranger stopped and waved to the crowds, his whole posture filled with strong sense of happiness. Dark Ace scowled as the strange driver saluted him cockily and drove off, without waiting to collect his deed. The announcer looked perplexed and asked the Dark Ace, "Didn't he want his prize?"

"No," the Dark Ace ground out, "He just wanted to win."

Aerrow… you've stepped into a world you'll regret ever learning about.

He couldn't help a slight smirk. Things were getting interesting.

A/N: Reviews are, as always, appreciated.