I floated through the chaos like a shadow on the wind, my devilish senses split across the night. Part of me rode with Akira in his black supercar, feeling the growl of the engine like a heartbeat of pure rage. Another lingered with Yuna and Yura in the red beast, tasting their fear and fire. And from afar came one third eye that watched Kazuki, his terror a delicious spice in the air. The streets of Tokyo had become a big mess-a maze of lights and shades. The wail of sirens could be heard behind us, like some sort of hurt wolves. There were cars, choppers, even snipers on rooftops, all belonging to the president's forces. As for Akira, the tempest they couldn't tame.
Akira's gloved hands gripped the wheel, his masked face calm as a frozen lake. But behind that mask, I knew the works were whirring, the plot of a mastermind around every turn. He glanced back in the rearview mirror where flashes of blue and red danced like fireflies in hell. "They're closing the net," he said in a voice low and smooth, like velvet around a knife. Even for bones as immortal as mine, it sent a shiver down my spine. "But nets have holes. Lucifer, scan the grid. Give me the weak points."
I leaned in from the ether, my voice a whisper in his ear. "East tunnel blocked by five cruisers. West bridge has two choppers hovering. But the old subway access under the highway—it's clear for now. Narrow, dark, perfect for shaking tails."
A sly smile curled his lips behind the mask.
"Perfect."
He showed no hesitation. A sharp turn off the main road, and the tyres let out a screeching protest. The black car plunged into a side alley, dodging trash bins and startled cats. Police cars followed, their engines roaring like angry beasts, but Akira was faster, smarter. He hit a hidden ramp-something only a local ghost like me would know-and dropped us into the abandoned subway tunnel. The world went black; headlights cut through dust and cobwebs. Bullets pinged off the walls from the cops that dared to follow, but Akira weaved like a snake, using the echoes to further confuse them. One cruiser smashed into a pillar, exploding in a shower of sparks.
"Fools," Akira muttered, words dripping with cold triumph. "You chase shadows while I claim the light."
In the red car, Yuna drove with wild grace, hands fixed as a surgeon's on the wheel. Sirens wailed closer-a pack of four police cars on their tail. "Too close!" Yura gasped, her voice thin and breathless, a prayer amidst the tempest.
Yuna's eyes flashed with fire.
"Let them come. I've got this."
She downshifted, the engine bellowing like a dragon waking up. With a quick flick of the wheel, she drifted around a tight corner, the red car sliding sideways, inches from a wall. The lead cop car tried the same—and crashed into a lamppost, metal twisting with a scream. Yuna laughed, the sound like thunder mixed with joy.
"That's for underestimating a girl with a grudge!" But more came, helicopters above shining lights like angry eyes. Yuna spotted a construction site ahead—cranes and barriers.
"Hold on," she said, her tone sharp and commanding, making Yura's heart rush.
She accelerated, jumping a dirt mound, the car flying for a heartbeat before landing hard. Two pursuers flipped trying to copy her, blocking the path for the rest.
"See? Instinct beats training every time," Yuna said, her words like a spark in the dark.
Back with Akira, we burst out of the tunnel onto an elevated highway. Choppers swooped low, rotors thumping like war drums. Spotlights locked on us, turning night into day.
"They think they've got me," Akira said, the deep rumble of his voice echoing within my soul.
He reached for another hidden switch under the dash-a gadget I'd seen him tinker with before. "Time to blind the birds." Smoke canisters launched from the car's rear, thick clouds billowing up. The helicopters veered, pilots cursing over radios. Akira used the cover to exit the highway, dropping into a network of backstreets. But he wasn't just running; he was herding them.
"Lucifer, patch me to Yuna," he ordered.
I bridged the connection, my power linking their comms. "You're on," I said.
"Yuna," Akira's voice crackled through. "Head to the riverfront. Draw the east flank there. I'll pull the west. We'll cross at the old bridge and swap paths-confuse their trackers."
Yuna's response was swift, laced with respect: "Bright. Like a fox in a henhouse. On it."
And the plan was unfolding just like a dark symphony. At the same instant, Yuna was flying down to the river, her bright red car glowing under streetlights. Police poured after her, thinking they were chasing the weaker prey. She swerved past barricades, trundling through wet streets, water spurting like blood from cuts. One chopper hankered for a close-up, coming in too low—she slammed on her brakes, forcing it to pull up or crash. "Just a little closer, I dare you," she said into the wind, the words fierce and alive.
Akira, meanwhile, veered his pack west, out into industrial zones with warehouses and cranes. He throttled back just enough to let them believe they were closing the distance. Then in an instant, he hit the nitro boost—yet another secret mod. The black car shot forward like a bullet, leaving them in dust. But he circled back in, ramming a straggler from the side and sending it spinning into others. Chain reaction—cars piling up in a heap of twisted metal. "That's for my mother," he growled. His voice cut the air like lightning. It was breathtaking, raw pain converted into power.
Kazuki's fear was growing thicker as we closed in. From where I stood, I saw him pacing the penthouse like a rat trapped in a cage, guards everywhere, rifles cocked. His phone became hot with incessant ringing-presidents' orders to hold on. "He's close," Kazuki whispered, sweat trickling down his face. "That monster Akira. and Vernon too? God, what have I done?" Clutching a gun in shaken hands, he'd lost control of a battle once his for the taking. Outside, the mocking city lights blinked and taunted, and sirens wailed closer-a beckon of death. His heart was beating so loud that I could almost hear it-the drumbeat of doom.
Akira's voice pulled me back. "Lucifer, status on cooldown."
"Two minutes remaining," I said. "Teleport ready soon."
He nodded. "Good. But we finish this on wheels. Makes it personal." He nodded once more to Yuna. "Now—cross!"
Their cars met at the old bridge, a rickety span over dark waters. They swapped lanes in a high-speed dance, tyres kissing as they passed. Police radios exploded in confusion— "Which one's which?" Trackers glitched, forces splitting wrong ways. Akira laughed, a sound like victory's edge. "They dance to my tune now."
Hearts racing, the long chase dragged on. Yuna soared the red beast over parked cars to avoid a roadblock. Akira tunneled through a market, the stalls shattering like glass. Bullets flew, but his armor held.
"You can't touch me," he shouted back, the words seemingly a challenge from the gods.
Minato Ward loomed, towers of glass and gold hiding sins in its covers of wealth. Kazuki's building pierced the sky like a dagger. We were close, so very close. Akira's plan peaked, leading the last pursuers into a dead-end alley, before reversing out as they jammed themselves in. Yuna joined him alongside the car.
"Almost there," Akira said, a promise of blood in his voice. "Kazuki waits."
They accelerated toward the gates of the tower, engines roaring triumph. But when they broke through the perimeter, guards swarmed-not just police, but private mercenaries with heavy arms. Spotlights blinded, traps sprang.
Then, a figure stirred in the shadows of the penthouse-Vernon? Or something worse? Before the entrance, the cars skidded to a stop, their doors flying open. With his mask gleaming, Akira stepped out. But there was a dancing red dot on his chest from a sniper.
"JACKPOT" a voice yelled from upstairs, which chilled the night. The trap shut. Who would strike first?