Legacy Purge.
I heard the purge before I saw it.
Tires burning.
Screams online.
Profiles disappearing in real time.
Eclipse isn't subtle when it strikes.
It cleans.
One by one, racer IDs across the system started going black. Red-tier racers. Rogues. Anyone associated with me. Even mechanics. Gone.
> "Ghostline contamination," the warning read.
"Unauthorized legacy deviation."
They don't want to erase me anymore.
They want to erase the idea of me.
---
The first person they pulled was a girl named Mina Cruz.
I trained her on the back roads three years ago.
Nothing serious.
Just laps.
Just speed.
But it was enough.
They revoked her entry card mid-race.
Locked her out.
Wiped her stats.
Like she never existed.
I watched the footage in silence.
And I felt it.
Not fear.
Not guilt.
Anger.
Because this is what they do when they can't control something—
They cut the brakes.
---
She saw the warning on her tablet at exactly 03:17 a.m.
> Legacy Directive: Red Protocol
All Eclipse racers affiliated with banned exiles will be suspended pending review.
Kurosawa Sora – flagged for noncompliance.
The air in her lungs didn't move.
Her hands didn't shake.
But something beneath her skin felt wrong.
Too still.
Like the quiet right before a tire blows at 210km/h.
---
She didn't call anyone.
Not her father.
Not her uncle.
Not the board.
Instead, she went underground.
Literally.
To Circuit Null — the forgotten freeway carved beneath the city where racers once trained before Eclipse took over.
It was where the old generation met.
The pre-corporate bloodline.
The chaos before the control.
And there, standing in the flicker of stripped tunnel lights, was the last person she expected:
Wren Lucido.
Street icon. Data leech.
Banned years ago for trying to live-stream Eclipse corruption.
> "You're late," Wren said, tossing her a comm-link.
"Didn't know I was invited," Sora replied.
> "You weren't. But you're needed."
---
---
I don't trust Wren.
Never have.
But he knows how Eclipse thinks.
More importantly, he knows how Eclipse panics.
He's the one who got the message to me:
> "They're purging names, but they're protecting one. Hers."
> "Kurosawa's off-limits. For now. Because if she falls, the dynasty falls with her."
That's leverage.
That's a shield.
But it's also a trap.
Because if she steps off the line one more time, they'll make her the example.
---
So I drive.
Back to Circuit Null.
Back to the only place left where racers still believe in truth louder than sponsorships.
And when I get there—she's already waiting.
---
He doesn't speak.
She doesn't either.
They just stand, engines cooling beside them, the sound of broken fluorescent lights buzzing above like old ghosts warning them away.
But they don't run.
Not from each other.
Not from this.
---
> "They're afraid of us," she says finally.
> "No," Axton replies. "They're afraid of what happens if we stop pretending."
> "Pretending what?"
> "That we race for them."
She looks at him for a long moment.
And then she nods once.
Just once.
But it's enough.
---
Later, Wren lays out the plan.
Not a race.
A broadcast.
A message to every racer Eclipse erased.
To every name burned, buried, or blacklisted.
To anyone who's ever been told, "You don't belong here."
---
Wren called it "a ripple broadcast."
Untraceable.
Uninterruptable.
One shot. One message.
And once it went out—it would be everywhere.
> "You want to scare them?" Wren asked. "You want to break the chain? You speak. Both of you."
I didn't flinch.
I never flinch.
But Sora… she hesitated.
And I understood.
She still had something to lose.
Me? I lost everything years ago.
So I said:
> "Set it up."
---
They rigged the cameras inside a gutted warehouse near the Null ramp — the same place where Wren was arrested four years ago for trying to stream Eclipse records.
No backdrop.
No filters.
Just oil-stained concrete and broken neon.
Perfect.
Wren handed me the mic.
Sora stood to my left.
She didn't look at me.
Didn't need to.
We already knew what we were going to say.
But this time, I didn't let her go first.
I leaned in, voice steady, and stared down the lens like it was Eclipse itself.
---
> "You tried to kill me.
You buried my name.
You erased my friends.
You punished anyone who touched the throttle without your permission."
> "You built a world out of control.
Out of bloodlines and bought victories.
And now you're afraid—because someone like me didn't stay buried."
> "You think you can erase me again?"
"Try."
---
She didn't know when her hands stopped shaking.
Maybe it was when Axton spoke.
Maybe it was when she realized Eclipse had already made their move — the purge was real.
Or maybe it was when she saw her own reflection in the dark glass of the lens.
Not as a Kurosawa.
Not as a champion.
But as a threat.
And when the mic was passed to her, she didn't hesitate.
Not this time.
She spoke slowly. Cleanly.
> "You taught me to race like a machine.
To obey.
To win for the name stitched across my back."
> "But I'm not a machine."
"And I'm not yours anymore."
> "My name is Sora Kurosawa.
And I choose the road, not the chain."
---
They ended the stream ten seconds after she finished speaking.
No outro. No music. No flair.
Just the hard click of rebellion locking into place.
And in the silence afterward—Wren whispered:
> "It's done."
> "What is?" Sora asked.
He looked at them both.
> "The waiting."
---
I didn't look at her right away.
Not even after the stream cut.
Because I knew what this meant.
There was no going back.
We weren't racing for ourselves anymore.
We were racing against everything.
---
Thirty-two minutes later, Eclipse issued a public bulletin.
Red Flag Order.
Effective immediately:
All known associates of Reyes and Kurosawa will be sanctioned.
All circuits closed to non-compliant racers.
Legacy Void Act pending.
Unauthorized race activity will be considered criminal intent.
In short:
> "You're either with us, or off the road forever."
---
And me?
I smiled.
Because now…
it's really begun.
---
Systems don't fear chaos.
They thrive on it.
Control it.
Package it into circuits, championships, and blood-drenched podiums.
What they fear…
is choice.
And worse—
> Two people choosing something different. Together.
Axton Reyes was never supposed to speak again.
Sora Kurosawa was never supposed to hesitate.
Yet here they stood—
not running,
not submitting,
but recording a truth so loud it cracked the silence Eclipse had spent decades perfecting.
The purge wasn't meant to erase them.
It was meant to scare the rest.
But every name burned,
every stat deleted,
every legacy silenced—
only poured more fuel on the fire.
Axton brought the match.
Sora became the flame.
And now the whole circuit feels it.
The rules are slipping.
The road is waking.
The racers are watching.
And far beneath the sanctioned world, in abandoned tunnels and blackout arenas, a word is starting to spread:
> "They lit the road."
And somewhere…
Zero Chain is already watching.
Smiling.
Waiting.
---