Warning: Chapter contained adult act. Read st your own risk. Enjoy.
Giant variants of sport vehicles tore across the ruined cityscape, racing at reckless speeds. Each driver handled their weaponized machines with little care for control—only survival mattered. The cars were armed with both offensive and defensive systems: retractable blades, mounted guns, and shielding tech—everything needed to stay alive in this brutal arena.
The road ahead was littered with deadly obstacles—collapsing debris, explosive traps, energy fields—all designed to slow the racers down just enough to be caught by a monstrous, driverless juggernaut loomed in the distance, easily twice the size of the other vehicles. Its matte-black armor shimmered beneath the fire-lit sky.
The Devourer, emblazoned in bold letters on its side, lived up to its name. It annihilated anything in its path without hesitation. Its sole directive: eliminate every single player.
ELSEWHERE…
The Nemesis walked with quiet authority toward a natural bath tube surrounded by jagged rocks. As he approached, he shed the weathered leather robe clinging to his muscular frame—naked save for a black brief covering his modesty.
His skin, a deep, iridescent blue, shimmered like liquid metal under the light. When the sun touched it, it seemed to glow from within.
Step by step, he entered the water, each movement measured, deliberate. The temperature was perfect. He sank deeper, resting his arms on the surrounding stones and closing his eyes. For a moment, he was at peace—completely still, suspended in silence.
The state of this calmness, motionlessness, and inertia was scrimped when an intruder entered the tube, snapping Nemesis out of his peaceful state.
The calm shattered.
His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed, but the intruder just shrugged.
"What are you doing here, Raya?" he asked, his voice low and sharp. "You know I loathe being disturbed."
She ignored the venom in his tone and swam closer. Her soft giggle rippled through the water as she floated toward him, their skin brushing. Despite his initial annoyance, Nemesis didn't pull away.
"Your rules only apply to others… not me, Eli'kia," she purred, calling him by his true name. Her voice dripped with seduction, and his frown softened.
The moment was hot and erotic, an uncontainable titillating urge built inside Eli'kia as Raya feminist power eclipsed him.
"You're stressed," she whispered, circling him like a serpent. "I see it in your eyes. You're drained—strength, stamina, all spent in service of a world that doesn't know your worth, that doesn't deserve you."
Her breath was on his skin. "You need rest... energy... pleasure."
He didn't resist. He slid behind her, pulling her against his chest. Her spine pressed against his iron-hard muscles. His hands moved slowly—caressing the edge of her ribs, hovering just below her chest.
"Hmmm," Eli'kia leaned in, mouth brushing just below her ear and soft moaning escaped her mouth.
"You always act like you don't need anyone," she murmured against his damp skin. "But right now… you're trembling."
"I... am... not... trembling," he growled, his voice staggered by need. "I am... waiting... to—"
Suddenly, a blinding red flash filled the chamber. The emergency beacon. Its wail split the silence.
At that moment every urge that was building diminished like vaporized water.
Eli'kia stood, water cascading down his powerful form. Raya stared, disappointment clouding her features as his expression returned to cold neutrality.
"Duty calls," he said flatly.
"I know," she replied, but it didn't hide the sting in her voice.
"That friend of yours… the bug—"
"Steven," she corrected, softly.
"Bug," he repeated with a sneer. "He's been a thorn."
"I'm aware. What are you planning?"
"I want you back in the Reaper. Do what you were made to do. Handle anyone foolish enough to prove they are a problem for us."
He turned to leave, dripping, robe draped over one shoulder—still naked, indifferent.
---
PRESENT...
3... 2... 1... And we're back.
The engine beneath me roared like a beast let off its leash. I slammed the gear stick forward. Tires screamed against fractured asphalt. Neon signs flickered above the ruined skyline, but I couldn't afford distractions.
Behind me, something massive and unrelenting was closing in—The Destroyer—a mechanical monstrosity with reinforced steel plating and enough horsepower to flatten anything in its path.
Spoiler alert: I'm a terrible driver. But this wasn't a normal race. It was survive-or-die. Just finish—without becoming metal mulch under the tires of a murder truck.
"On your six, Steven!" Pashina's voice crackled through my earpiece, but I barely heard him over the chaos. I peeped at the rear mirror and saw what he meant by Watching my six—another racer, blood-red muscle car, trying to slam me into the guardrail. I gritted my teeth, yanking the wheel hard to the right, barely avoiding the trap. The driver—Mason—grinned at me through the tinted window, then flicked a switch.
"Damn it," I muttered. I slammed the brakes just as Mason veered in, the spikes slicing through the air where his tires had been. The delay cost him. The Destroyer was gaining ground.
BOOM.
A deep, guttural growl erupted from behind. I risked a glance in his side mirror. The Destroyer had plowed through another racer, tossing the car aside like trash. Flames and debris littered the road.
"Big D is getting closer!" Reece's voice was frantic now, making reference to the plower.
I slammed the throttle. My car—a heavily modified street racer—shuddered but surged forward. The road forked—left toward an old freeway ramp, right into the neon-lit ruins.
Mason had taken the left. Bad move. The Destroyer followed, demolishing what was left of him.
"Buy us a few seconds," I muttered.
But we weren't in the clear. Another racer drifted in, a blacked-out coupe with blue underglow appeared from the side. A grenade launcher mounted on the roof swiveled toward me.
"Oh, come on!" I gritter out of annoyance.
I yanked the emergency brake, spinning into a tight drift as the grenade missed—barely. The blast wave sent my car skidding, barely avoiding a direct hit. Smoke filled my vision.
Survival wasn't about being the fastest anymore—it was about being the smartest and sometimes completely reckless. I thought inwardly.
The smoke cleared just in time for me to see another racer—a sleek silver car with razor-edged hubcaps charging from the side, cutting in from the right.
"This is getting interesting," I growled.
"Don't slow down, Steven!" Ember's voice rang in through the comms.
I smirked. "Worry about The Destroyer, not me."
As if on cue, a deep, mechanical roar filled the everywhere. The Beast had finished with Mason - poor bully - and was back in pursuit. Its monstrous engine revved, flames spitting from its exhaust.
I flicked a switch on my dashboard. The car lurched forward, narrowly escaping another attempted attack. The force of the sudden acceleration slammed me into my seat as I bolted ahead.
Behind me, one attacker wasn't so lucky. A sharp chunk of debris burst her rear tire. Her car spiraled into the wreckage.
"One down." I muttered.
The Destroyer's horn roared again. Its monstrous front bumper was inches from my rear fender. I clenched the wheel tighter, took a deep breath, focusing on the finish line ahead. I had to stay ahead of the monster, no matter what.
With a surge of adrenaline, I pushed my car to its limits, weaving through the remaining drivers as The Destroyer closed in. This was it – my only chance at survival.
I sped down the track, The Destroyer horn blaring in my ear. I could feel its hot breath on my bumper, and I knew I had to think fast if I wanted to stay alive.
"Steven, I've got your six! Hold tight!" Pashina's voice crackled again through the com .
I glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to see Pashina's car slam into The Destroyer side, momentarily distracting it. I took advantage of the reprieve to swerve around a crashed car and make a break for the next turn.
As I entered the turn, I spotted Reece's car, its engine smoking as it limped along the track.
"Reece, you okay?" I yelled over the comms.
"Barely," Reece replied, his voice strained. "The Big D clipped me, but I'm not out yet."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Hang in there, Reece. We're almost at the finish line."
Just then, a burst of flame erupted on the track ahead, blocking my path. I slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a collision with the elemental siblings' car.
Aqueon waved at me from the passenger seat. "Sorry about that, Steven! I got a bit carried away!"
I rolled my eyes. " Classic." But I couldn't help smiling. The elemental siblings were always a wild card.
With The Destroyer closing in, I knew I had to keep moving. "Let's go, guys! We've got a finish line to cross!" I said over the comm. " The exit tower is just ahead of us," I muttered.
My foot was welded to the gas pedal. The tower loomed ahead—tall and dark.
Behind us, the Destroyer screamed like a dying god. Flames belched from its engine block, its monstrous grille dripping molten steel. The city folded and reformed beneath its treads like paper caught in a storm.
"Brace!" I shouted.
Reece was shouting something. Gabriel was powering up a pulse grenade. Pashina screeching, eyes blazing.
Ember and Aqueon released a blast of raw energy that surged through their vehicles. The metal screamed. My vision turned white. And in the final instant—We hit the tower.
White light. Shattered glass. Silence.
CONGRATULATIONS! YOU WON.