chapter 4 :racing shadows

Achilles Pov:

From the day I was born, my gut had never failed me. I always knew enough, always saw things coming before they happened. But I guess there's a first time for everything.

Now, I'm standing in front of the race screen, staring at the list of participants. Never in a million years would I have predicted this: she took Akira's keys to race. My eyes scan the familiar names—Leo Alexiou, Lucas Garcia, Ivi Miller—and then one that stands out: Veronika Miller. Her sister?

It makes sense now. She'd been asking Akira, "Where is she?" That name on the screen wasn't just anyone—it was someone tied to her family.

The bet dealer approached us, stopping beside Akira. He leaned in and asked, "Who are you betting on?"

Akira didn't hesitate. "Move the bet from Veronika Miller to Ivi Miller. Add 10 million to it."

I turned to face him, expecting the usual playful smirk, but his expression was dead serious. There was no trace of his typical lighthearted demeanor. He genuinely believed that little Ivi would win—even though everyone knew Lucas was the best racer in the lower world. Nearly all bets tonight were on him.

The dealer then shifted his attention to me. "30 million on Lucas Garcia," I said, placing my bet.

Akira overheard, shaking his head slightly, and the dealer chuckled. "Ah, you're my favorite Garcia. Always the loyal one," he said with a playful grin. But then, as if flipping a switch, his face turned deadly serious, his eyes gleaming with the intensity of a madman.

"Your brother's going to lose tonight," he said, his voice chilling. "And if you keep your bet on him, you will too. The two sweet Millers aren't going to lose—not tonight. Especially Ivi. That girl's addicted to winning."

I dismissed his words, unbothered. I knew my brother too well. Lucas never loses. I'd rather trust him than let the dealer's unsettling confidence shake me.

The participants lined up at the starting line, engines roaring like restless beasts. The announcer's voice boomed through the air, electrifying the crowd.

"What an intense evening, dear lower world! I see engines hot and ready to take flight. Who am I to hold them back? The race begins with the sound of the gun. And that's in... 3... 2... 1!"

The gunshot rang out, and the starting line exploded into chaos as the cars surged forward, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of dust. The massive screens above flickered to life, showing the race positions.

In the lead was Leo Alexiou, while at the very back—unsurprisingly—was the youngest racer, Ivi Miller.

I turned to Akira, who sat beside me, casually sipping a beer. His relaxed demeanor only deepened the unease stirring in my gut. Either he was fine with losing, or he knew something the rest of us didn't.

Moments later, Lucas, my brother, climbed to the lead. The crowd erupted in cheers, but my attention was drawn to the blue car beside Ivi. She let it pass her with ease—too much ease. Then, she started swerving sharply, darting right, left, right, left. The blue car suddenly spun out of control and veered off the track.

What the hell was she doing?

Now, the purple car—likely her sister's—was tailing Ivi, attempting to block her progress. But she remained undeterred, weaving through the chaos like she was born for this. From dead last, she clawed her way to third. I couldn't believe it.

The race consisted of three laps, and the winner would be the first to complete them. As the second lap began, Ivi closed in on Leo. Her car—Akira's car—sidled up to his, and then, without warning, Leo's vehicle spun out. He lost control completely, skidding off the track in a cloud of smoke.

She hadn't even touched him.

Akira cursed under his breath, clearly annoyed.

Meanwhile, the purple car wasn't done. It accelerated, trying to ram into Ivi's from behind. But she was too quick, evading every attempt with razor-sharp precision.

The third and final lap began. Lucas was still in the lead, but Ivi and the purple car were gaining on him. The tension was suffocating as the three cars raced neck and neck.

Then the unthinkable happened. The purple car pulled up alongside Lucas. The driver—her sister, no doubt—rolled down the window and gave him a mocking wave. "Bye-bye," she mouthed with a smirk.

And then, to everyone's shock, she turned her car around and began driving backward, staring Lucas down.

I held my breath what the hell was this girl trying to do-commit suicide ?

Lucas slowed down, trying to avoid a collision, but her bold maneuver gave Ivi the opening she needed. She surged forward, her car practically glued to the purple one as the two raced toward the finish line.

The crowd was on edge, the tension unbearable. With each passing second, the finish line drew closer, the outcome still a mystery.

She was still at it—still driving backward, recklessly taunting Lucas while Ivi stayed glued to her side, maneuvering dangerously close to the purple car. Together, they hurtled toward the final stretch, the tension suffocating.

But then, Ivi did the unthinkable. Again.

In a move no one could have predicted, she began circling both cars, weaving around them with dizzying precision. The crowd fell into a stunned, terrible silence, every breath caught in throats. It felt like she was attempting to drag her entire family into a death spiral, her reckless moves bordering on suicidal.

And then it happened. Ivi's car surged forward, crossing the finish line a split second before her sister's, snatching victory by the narrowest margin.

It's rare for me to feel amazed or shocked—actually, I don't feel those emotions at all. I've only ever heard about them. But this time, as I watched her step out of the car and walk toward her sister, something in me shifted. She pulled something from her jacket pocket, knelt by her sister's window, and said something I couldn't hear. Moments later, she lit a cigarette, and my chest did something unusual. My heart didn't beat like it should, like I was alive.

No, it wasn't me. It was her. There's something wrong with her, not me. I don't experience the things humans usually feel, so she has to be the problem. And I need to fix it—restore control, make everything right again.

I didn't even glance at Akira's face because I already knew what I'd see: that stupid bastard smiling like a kid meeting Santa Claus. I needed to stay calm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Lion walking over to Lucas ,who stood frozen his face pale as if he were choking , Lucas glared furiously at Ivi's sister—no doubt because she had mocked and manipulated him. He approached me, and I gave him a nod of reassurance, though my focus was elsewhere.

Amid the noise, the chaos of people around me, all I could see—all I could feel—was her. Feel. What a strange, foreign word.