Act: 10 Chapter: 4 |Ace Vs Ace| AE86 VS Lancia Rally 037

An hour had passed since Collei and Lumine's intense downhill battle—a race that ended with Lumine spinning out on the final left-hand turn, leaving Collei victorious. But this wasn't over yet. The true finale loomed: the final race for Team Speed Stars. A race that would pit two legends against each other—the iconic Eight Six and the monstrous Lancia Rally 037.

At the parking area, the two cars stood apart, parked in different sections, their drivers seemingly distant yet bound by an unspoken tension. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made every sound—the hiss of a soda can, the scrape of gravel underfoot—feel amplified.

Collei drained the last of her soda, crumpling the can with a satisfying crack, when she noticed Albedo approaching.

"The Eight Six is ready to go anytime, Collei," he said, his voice calm but carrying a hint of excitement.

Collei nodded, wiping her hands on her racing suit. "Perfect."

Albedo hesitated, his eyes briefly darting toward the Eight Six. "Collei?"

She turned, sensing the weight in his tone. "What is it, Albedo?"

"I've got something else to tell you."

Collei raised an eyebrow, curiosity flashing across her face. "Go on."

He nodded, his voice lowering as though sharing a secret. "Remember when I made those modifications to your engine?"

"Yeah," Collei said, folding her arms. "I remember. What about it?"

A small smile tugged at Albedo's lips, but it was fleeting, almost mischievous. "The horsepower numbers I originally gave you… they weren't entirely accurate."

Her brow furrowed. "By how much?"

Albedo glanced around, ensuring no one else was within earshot. "Originally, I told you your Group A engine was pushing 268 horsepower. That was true… back then. But with the improvements—better powerband, smoother delivery, remapped ECU—you're not just close to 300 anymore. You've gone beyond that."

Collei tilted her head, suspicion mingling with intrigue. "How far beyond are we talking?"

He exhaled slowly, locking eyes with her. "320 horsepower. At 11,000 RPM."

Her eyes widened, the number sinking in. "Three-twenty?"

Albedo nodded firmly. "That's right. The playing field between you and Clorinde is a lot more equal now than it might seem."

A grin began to form on Collei's face, but before she could respond, Albedo held up a hand.

"There's more," he said, his expression sharpening.

Another raised eyebrow. "More?"

"I recently added a limiter to your engine to cut fuel at 11,000 RPM. It was a precaution—to keep things stable and safe during practice runs. But the truth is, the engine can handle more. A lot more. It can rev up to 12,000, maybe even 13,000 RPM if pushed. For this race, I've removed the limiter entirely. The engine will rev until it reaches its natural cap or… well, until you decide it's too much."

He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping. "Use it wisely. Don't overdo it unless you absolutely need to. But if you find yourself needing that extra edge, you'll have it."

Collei nodded slowly, the gravity of the information sinking in. "Got it."

Then, without warning, she turned and shouted across the parking area. "We're ready here!"

From the distance, Clorinde's voice echoed back. "Ready here too!"

Keqing, standing between the two groups, raised her hand and called out, "Drivers! To the starting line! Side-by-side formation, please!"

Albedo clapped a hand on Collei's shoulder, his grip firm. "Good luck, kid. Show her what the Eight Six is made of."

"Thanks, Albedo," she said, giving him a nod before turning toward her car.

Sliding into the bucket seat, she pulled the racing harness over her shoulders and latched it securely into the buckle. She tugged on the straps, ensuring they were tight. Every movement felt deliberate, almost ritualistic, as she prepared herself for the battle ahead.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart. The faint hum of the other racers and the occasional chirp of cicadas faded into silence. When she opened her eyes, her focus was razor-sharp.

"Let's show her who the real Mountain Pass Specialist is," she muttered under her breath.

With a twist of the ignition key, the Eight Six's Group A 20-valve engine roared to life, its aggressive growl reverberating through the parking lot. The sound was pure adrenaline, a promise of speed and precision.

The Eight Six rolled out of the parking area, its headlights cutting through the darkness. Behind her, Clorinde's Lancia followed, its engine note deeper, more guttural—a beast waiting to be unleashed.

The two cars made their way toward the downhill section, the air growing colder as they descended. Gravel crunched beneath their tires as they approached the starting line.

Side by side, they came to a stop. The same position they had taken at the start of their race last year.

Keqing stood confidently between the two cars, her arms raised high, her presence commanding attention. The air crackled with anticipation, the roar of engines filling the void.

"Let's start this race the old-fashioned way!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the night like a blade. "Whoever crosses the line first wins it all!"

The racers, spectators, and even the mountain itself seemed to hold its breath.

Keqing extended her arm, raising five fingers. "FIVE!"

The tension mounted.

"FOUR!"

Engines growled louder, their notes climbing as if responding to her countdown.

"THREE!"

Both drivers tightened their grips on the steering wheels.

"TWO!"

The world blurred into a tunnel of focus for Collei and Clorinde.

"ONE!"

Keqing's arm dropped like a flag. "GO!!"

The Lancia and the Eight Six launched off the line with a ferocious roar, tires screeching against the asphalt as they fought for traction. Clorinde's Lancia, equipped with shorter gear ratios, gained the edge almost instantly, shooting ahead as they barreled through the slight left-hand turn leading into the first challenge: a 90-degree right.

The Lancia dove into the turn first, its rear sliding out in a perfectly controlled drift. Collei followed close behind, her Eight Six carving through the corner with precision, the car's balance keeping her composed even at the edge of grip.

A short straightaway opened up ahead. Both cars rocketed forward, the Lancia's raw acceleration creating a noticeable gap. But Collei stayed calm. She knew her strengths.

Ahead, the road curved into another sharp left-hand 90. Both drivers slammed on their brakes, the screech echoing through the mountain. Tires bit into the pavement as the cars slid through the turn with practiced ease, their movements a seamless dance of aggression and control.

On the sidelines…

Watching from a vantage point near a slight right-hand curve was Feixiao, standing beside her Lancer Evo IX. Her arms were crossed as she observed the race, her keen eyes analyzing every move.

She sighed softly, murmuring to herself, "The Lancia dominates the straightaways—no question. But the Eight Six... its speed and stability through corners are unmatched. That perfect 50/50 balance and MR layout give the Lancia an edge, but Collei's engine is no slouch either. With Ningguang's team tuning it, she'll gain ground bit by bit, even on the straights."

Her gaze followed the two cars as they disappeared around another corner. "Clorinde's cornering style is pure Group B—aggressive, all or nothing, using the throttle to steer out of tarmac hairpins. But Collei… she's smooth. Scary smooth. The kind of smoothness that feels like it's been honed on these mountain passes for years. She's practically a mountain pass prodigy. It's not just about speed; it's about rhythm. And Collei has rhythm like an F1 driver. No abrupt weight shifts, no wasted motion. Every input is purposeful."

Back in the race…

The cars tore through a weaving straightaway—a section with subtle left and right curves, visible yet deceptively challenging at speed.

Collei grit her teeth, her eyes narrowing. "She's got the acceleration out of the hairpins, no question. That Lancia's shorter gear ratios are killer on this course. But I've got the cornering speed. I can catch up. No problem!"

Her foot slammed down on the gas, the Eight Six's tachometer climbing from 9,500 to 11,000 RPM. She gripped the shifter, slamming it from third to fourth, the tachometer needle dropping briefly before the car surged forward with newfound vigor.

Clorinde glanced in her rearview mirror, her lips curling into a smirk. "Nice work keeping up, Collei. You're practically in my rear engine hatch. But remember, there can only be one Mountain Specialist."

Her expression hardened, her voice a mutter drowned by the Lancia's engine. "We might be teammates most of the time, but tonight, we're rivals. Let's settle the score our fathers started."

The first hairpin approached, its sharp angle beckoning a test of skill. Both cars entered simultaneously, their tires screaming as they drifted through in perfect tandem. The proximity was nerve-wracking; their doors were so close they could have swapped paint. Yet neither driver flinched, their control absolute.

As they exited the hairpin, the Lancia shot ahead, but the Eight Six stayed glued to its tail, refusing to let the gap widen.

Further down the mountain…

The race carried them into an S-curve section, a series of flowing lefts and rights that demanded precision and rhythm. The Lancia and the Eight Six seemed locked in a relentless duel, their movements mirroring each other as they tore through the curves.

A small group of spectators stood at the side, their cars parked just off the road. Among them were Xingqiu, Thoma, Heizou, and Kuki Shinobu, representing the Feiyun Racing School.

The cars roared past, their taillights glowing like streaks of fire in the night.

Shinobu smirked, leaning against her car. "That's something special. Team Speed Stars' aces going at it one last time."

She turned to Thoma. "What's your take?"

Thoma crossed his arms, his gaze locked on the diminishing taillights. "The Eight Six has the edge in braking. Her timing—switching from gas to brake—is impeccable. And her heel-and-toe technique is flawless, the kind you'd see on professional circuits. It's no wonder she's so smooth through the corners."

He paused, glancing at the fading glow of the Lancia. "Clorinde, though… she's old school. Her downshifts through hairpins are raw and effective, but not gentle on the gearbox or clutch. If her timing slips even slightly, she risks locking up the rear wheels. It's bold, but risky."

Heizou chuckled, his hands in his pockets. "Risky is an understatement. But that's what makes it thrilling."

The group fell silent, the tension in the air matching that of the race as they waited for the next sight of the dueling cars.

The tension in the race had reached a fever pitch as the two cars flew down the mountain road, their tires screaming against the asphalt. Every twist and turn was a test of precision, control, and raw nerve.

Collei gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles white as she spoke aloud, her voice filled with determination. "I still have a chance. The third and final section is the most technical part of the course. That's where I'll make my move."

Both cars exited the latest hairpin at blistering speeds, racing down a stretch that twisted into a slight right-hand turn, then another left, before leading into the longest straightaway of the course.

On the roadside, another group of spectators cheered as the cars thundered past. Among them was Eula, standing just behind the guardrail. The speed and skill on display brought a smile to her face as she watched Collei's Eight Six in action.

"She's come so far," Eula muttered, her voice laced with admiration. "I still remember when she raced on my home course in Amakane…"

Flashback to Amakane's Turn A103

Collei's Eight Six had been tailing Eula's GT86 relentlessly, studying every move, every braking point. The moment Eula misjudged her line through Turn A103, Collei pounced. The AE86 slid through the inside line with surgical precision, its rear tires barely kissing the edge of the pavement. Without missing a beat, Collei transitioned smoothly into the next right-hand turn, maintaining a continuous inertia drift that left Eula stunned.

Eula's smile widened as the memory played in her mind. "It's crazy how quickly Collei can learn an opponent's driving style just by following them. That level of focus and concentration... even I can't pull off something like that."

Back in the race…

The two racers hurtled through another right-hand turn, their engines roaring as the mountain echoed with their intensity. Collei's eyes narrowed as she spotted an opening.

"We're approaching the right-hand hairpin," she muttered to herself. "That's the halfway point. This is my chance."

Clorinde braked hard, the Lancia's brake lights glowing red in the darkness. Collei didn't hesitate—her headlights flicked off, plunging the road into near-complete darkness behind Clorinde.

Inside the Lancia, Clorinde glanced at her rearview mirror, confusion flashing across her face. "Where'd she go?! Damn it, Collei, that trick won't work on me!"

Her focus returned to the road, her hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Just stick to my line," she told herself.

As they reached the hairpin, Clorinde braked hard again, her tires squealing as she prepared for the turn. But Collei had other plans. She braked late, diving into the inside line with perfect timing.

In an instant, Collei flipped her headlights back on, the Eight Six's pop-up lights snapping open and flooding the turn with halogen brilliance. The sudden burst of light caught Clorinde off guard, and her focus faltered for just a moment. She exited the hairpin wide, leaving a gap for Collei, who exited tight and seized the lead.

Clorinde cursed under her breath, recovering quickly and staying close on Collei's tail. "Damn it… she got me. But this isn't over!"

The two cars raced into a wide right-hand turn, followed by a sharp 90-degree left, their engines screaming as they pushed their limits. They approached a section with a center island, a tricky turn that required absolute precision.

Collei slid into the turn, but she felt the rear tires lose their usual grip. Her eyes widened slightly as the car struggled for traction.

"What's going on…?" she muttered.

Clorinde, caught off guard by Collei's sudden change in pace, tried to avoid a collision. But the two cars brushed against each other, the slight bump sending Collei's Eight Six wide.

The Lancia surged ahead, Clorinde regaining the lead. She sighed in relief, muttering, "Sorry, Collei. I didn't mean for that to happen… but if it's going to come down to this, we'll both have to give it everything we've got."

Inside the Eight Six…

Collei grit her teeth, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Damn it! I'm running out of options here!"

Her mind raced, searching for a solution, when Albedo's words echoed in her memory.

Flashback to the Summit

"With the new power band and output, the engine can rev higher than 11,000 RPMs. More like 12,000 or 13,000. But I don't recommend doing it… unless it's absolutely necessary."

The memory faded, and Collei's eyes hardened, determination flooding her expression. "This is it. If I'm going to challenge her again, I need to push the Eight Six to its absolute limit."

She glanced briefly at the dashboard, the tachometer's needle trembling at 11,000 RPMs. Her voice softened, almost as if she were speaking to the car itself. "Hold on for me, Eight Six… just a little longer."

Without hesitation, she downshifted from fourth to third. The engine screamed as the tachometer shot past 11,000 RPMs, moving off the scale entirely. The Eight Six surged forward with a renewed burst of speed, the high-revving engine's howl echoing through the mountains.

Collei's hand darted to the light switch. The headlights flipped off again, plunging the road into darkness as she closed the gap on Clorinde.

The Final Moments of the Race

As the two cars approached the last stretch, Collei spotted the gap on the outside line. Her sharp instincts kicked in, and she seized the opportunity.

"There's the gap!" she exclaimed, jerking the steering wheel to the right.

Her Eight Six surged forward, slipping into the narrow space beside Clorinde's Lancia. The two cars raced side by side, so close their fenders brushed, sparks flying in the night.

Clorinde's voice trembled with disbelief. "She's to my right?! At a place this narrow?!"

The continuous right and left turns came in quick succession. Collei's rear end slid wide, nudging Clorinde's Lancia toward the guardrail. Clorinde corrected immediately, her car ricocheting slightly before steadying itself. Both racers pushed their machines to the brink as they approached the final left-hand turn.

"This is it!" Collei thought, her heart pounding as her Eight Six edged half a nose ahead.

In the Lancia, Clorinde muttered in sync, "It's almost over."

Collei flicked her headlights back on, the halogen beams piercing through the night. She glanced at her tachometer and froze. The needle was far beyond the 11,000 RPM limit, soaring into uncharted territory. Unbeknownst to her, the engine had reached a staggering 14,500 RPM.

Her heart sank. "No… please, just a little longer!"

But the Eight Six's engine gave out, an audible bang tearing through the night as oil sprayed across the windshield. The rear wheels locked, and the car spun violently, skidding toward the finish line.

Clorinde gasped, instinctively jerking the wheel. "Collei!"

The sudden movement sent the Lancia into a snap oversteer, and Clorinde found herself spinning as well. The crowd watched in stunned silence as both cars spiraled toward the finish line, the race seemingly ending in chaos.

But Collei wasn't done. With her rear facing the finish line, she slammed the clutch, coaxing what little life remained from the Eight Six. The rear wheels spun again, and she glanced over her shoulder, steering the lifeless car tail-first across the finish line.

Moments later, Clorinde recovered, her Lancia crossing the line just behind. It was over.

Minutes after the race ended, the entire Team Speed Stars and a crowd from all corners of the mountain gathered at the finish line. Collei stood beside her battered AE86, a familiar sight after what had happened the previous year. Oil still pooled beneath the car, streaks marring the once pristine fenders, and the windshield splattered with oil, remnants of what used to be her Group A engine leaving faint chips behind.

Albedo approached, his head bowed in apology. "Sorry for letting you implement that strategy, Collei."

Collei shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. "No, it's not your fault. I pushed the engine too hard. I didn't know it would go beyond the tachometer's scale."

Ningguang joined the conversation, her expression curious. "You kicked in the clutch after the engine blew, didn't you? That kind of move… it's not just skill. That's instinct from experience."

Collei nodded. "It wasn't just experience. It was determination. My Eight Six… it felt alive, like it gave everything it had for me to win."

Collei turned to Clorinde, her expression softening. She stepped forward. "Clorinde, I know I crossed the line first… but I have something to say."

Clorinde raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

Collei glanced at Ningguang, who nodded silently, granting her permission. Turning back, Collei took a deep breath. "I call this race a draw."

Clorinde's eyes widened. "A… a draw? But you won, Collei. You crossed the finish line first."

Collei shook her head. "We were evenly matched. I'm not calling this a draw to spare your record or anything like that. This is about something bigger. Our fathers' rivalry consumed them, and it carried on to us. But we're not them. This isn't about winning or losing. It's about showing the world that there are two Touge Specialists in Inazuma… and putting an end to a feud that should have ended long ago."

Clorinde stood in stunned silence, her father's voice echoing in her mind.

"This rivalry should have ended years ago. It's time, my daughter. End it."

Clorinde fought back tears, placing a hand on her nose bridge before smiling and extending a hand. "Then let's end it. With this handshake, we call it a draw—and close the chapter on our fathers' feud."

Collei smiled, shaking her hand firmly. The crowd erupted in applause, the cheers louder than ever before.

Arlecchino watched from the sidelines, a rare smile gracing her face. "You've made me proud, Collei. You've done what I couldn't. You ended the rivalry… and proved yourself to be truly exceptional."

As the two racers turned to the crowd, they held hands and raised their free arms, forming a triumphant "Number One" gesture.

Team Speed Stars had achieved their ultimate goal—not just in racing, but in unity. The Ace Versus Ace showdown ended in mutual respect, leaving behind a legacy of camaraderie and passion for the road.