Drenco sat quietly, fiddling with his cup. It held a pale, golden brew; his gaze stayed fixed on the rim as if it might offer answers. Across from him, Alphonse Vandergrift flipped through a physical copy of the Kormadyne Grand Prix handbook, tapping his communicator with one finger without bothering to look up.

  “Are you ready, son?” Alphonse asked, casual and cold.

  “Y—yes, Father,” Drenco replied, voice small.

  “Good. Because I’m practically giving you this opportunity. Dare to make a mistake, and I know exactly where you belong.” Alphonse’s tone was flat as a blade.

  “Y—yes, Father! I—no, Father. I won’t make a mistake. I’ll crush her and her entire house.” Drenco forced the words out, each one a little sharper than he felt.

  “You’ll dominate every house. It shouldn’t surprise you when I tell you I expect you to make Center House this year.” Alphonse didn’t look away from the handbook.

  Drenco flinched, swallowing hard. “Y—yes, Father. I’m reaching for Center House.”

  “No. You’ll make it. You’ll it because you’re my son. A Vandergrift. Is that understood?”

  “Y—yes, Father.”

  “Good. Now pick out a Gear. My men have crafted a selection for you.” Alphonse slid the handbook across the table toward him.

  Drenco stared at the printed pages—sleek silhouettes, specs, and glossy photos—but the room pressed close, and for a beat the cup in his hand felt like the only thing that belonged to him.

  #

  Benneth’s cane clicked sharply against the marble floors as he hurried down yet another hall, scanning every classroom he passed. His breath was short, and his brows furrowed deeper with every turn.

  “Where in the blazes…?” he muttered under his breath, the weight of the day catching up to his knees. Finally, he paused to catch his breath, leaning heavier on the cane.

  Then, with a sudden realization, he froze. “Wait a minute… I’m the ” he hissed to himself. “Why am I wandering around like some lost custodian?”

  Fumbling for his communicator, he pulled it out and tapped through the holographic interface, navigating to the student directory. “Rin Nepton… schedule…” he murmured. The screen lit up with a list of her classes.

  “Runes and Inscriptions, eh? Perfect.”

  He adjusted his tie and made his way down the final corridor, stopping outside her classroom just as the bell chimed.

  Students began to file out in chattering clusters, each one nearly jumping at the sight of him. Some awkwardly waved. A few whispered. The Director didn’t often lurk outside classrooms.

  Then came Chippy—her twin pigtails bouncing—and beside her, Rin.

  The moment Rin spotted him, she froze mid-step, clutching her massive textbook tight to her chest. “Uncle Remmy?” she asked softly, blinking in disbelief.

  “Ah! There you are, dear,” Benneth said, straightening his posture and forcing a smile. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “…Hey,” Rin said with a half-hearted wave.

  It took every ounce of Benneth’s restraint not to wince at how hollow it sounded. He could see it in her eyes—the unease, the distance. Just his presence seemed to have soured her day.

  He exhaled quietly through his nose and tried to sound composed. “Where’s that lad who’s usually with you two?”

  “Oh, Eddie? He’s in math class right now,” Chippy replied, always quick to fill the silence. “He should be on his way here soon.”

  Rin only nodded, her gaze turning away again, refusing to meet his eyes.

  Benneth noticed. He always noticed.

  “Well then,” he said, forcing a faint, paternal smile. “Let’s wait for him. I need to talk to you three together—in my office.”

  #

  A short while later, the trio sat before Benneth’s desk.

  Between them sat a thin silver tray stacked neatly with fruits, cheeses, crackers, and a few cured meats—a small peace offering disguised as hospitality.

  “Now then,” Benneth said, clasping his hands together and standing behind his desk. His chair was pushed off into the corner, as though he didn’t want to appear too comfortable. “Please, eat while we talk.”

  Rin’s eyes drifted anywhere but toward him.

  Chippy and Eddie, on the other hand, were locked on the tray like starved kittens.

  When none of them spoke, Benneth cleared his throat and continued. “So. The Grand Prix. Exciting, fascinating, frustrating—whatever you may wish to call it. I need to

  you children.”

  “Warn us?” Eddie asked, already chewing on a mouthful of cheese and crackers. “Warn us about what?”

  “It is what it appears to be,” Benneth said gravely, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to pace. “There’s been stirrings in the background—plans, politics, power plays. Believe me, I tried to shut this little project down the moment I heard about it, but the Hammer decided to move forward anyway. It’s a dangerous show of power, dressed up as entertainment. A means to cement Kormadyne’s dominance as elite academy of the world.”

  Eddie blinked. “But Kormadyne

  already the best academy in the world. Why would it need to prove that?”

  “The Vandergrifts don’t think so.”

  That name was enough to make Chippy’s chewing slow. She nodded grimly, while Eddie rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah,” Chippy muttered. “That makes sense.”

  Rin tilted her head, looking from one to the other. “What’s… a Vandergrift? And what’s wrong with them?”

  Eddie let out a low whistle. “You know Drenco?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. He’s a Vandergrift.”

  Rin’s eyes widened. “D-Does that mean… Drenco’s family this whole race thing?”

  “Mhm,” Chippy said, cheeks puffed full of crackers.

  “The Vandergrifts are an old noble family,” Benneth continued, stepping closer to his desk. “Much like Chippy and the Staffires.”

  Rin finally looked at Benneth with curiosity.

  “But the Vandergrifts have maintained their status far longer than any of the others. They claim direct descent from Merlin himself.”

  “Wait…” Eddie furrowed his brows. “Isn’t Staffire also a descendant of Merlin?”

  “Yes and no.” Benneth scratched at his mustache thoughtfully. “It’s believed Merlin foresaw that his bloodline would eventually dilute over generations, which, frankly, is natural. But certain families—like the Vandergrifts—believe in that bloodline. Keeping it as ‘pure’ as possible. They think they’re the truest of nobles.”

  “And,” Eddie added between bites of cheese, “most of the other noble bloodlines actually agree with them.”

  Rin frowned, trying to piece it all together. “So… what’s wrong with that?”

  Chippy huffed and crossed her arms. “I don’t the Vandergrifts. They act like they own magic itself.”

  “Well,” Benneth said, turning his gaze toward her, “what it means for this race is simple.”

  He tapped his cane once against the marble floor. “It’s most likely rigged. In some way, shape, or form.”

  Chippy’s face instantly twisted with indignation. “ My race?! You’re telling me there’s in race?!”

  Her voice echoed through the office, startling even Rin—though Benneth just smirked faintly.

  “Well,” Benneth said, straightening his coat as he paced behind his desk, “that’s precisely why I wanted this chat with you three in private. You’re now about what’s coming, but also—there may be a way to stick it to them.”

  Rin perked her ears slightly, still silent but curious.

  “You see,” Benneth continued, “Director Cannus was booted a few months ago—thanks to, er, some

  events that took place.” He tapped the side of his cane twice, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Anyway, his position opened up. And into the ring walks this pompous brat of a man—Alphonse Vandergrift.”

  “That’s Drenco’s dad,” Chippy said with a grimace.

  “Correct,” Benneth confirmed, glancing at her. “And he’s applied to be a new Director of Kormadyne Academy. But someone else stood in his way. Someone that idea entirely.” He paused, letting the tension hang. “And that man… was none other than himself.”

  “WHAT?!” the three shouted in perfect unison.

  Chippy threw her hands up. “But he told me that!”

  “Well,” Benneth said dryly, “now you know. I only learned about it a week before the school year began. And when I saw —” he pointed his cane lightly toward Chippy, “—and Rin here applied as racers for the South House freshmen… I realized I’d have to get a bit more with my methods.”

  Eddie leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “So… what’s Mr. Staffire trying to do exactly?”

  “He’s running for Director, same as Vandergrift,” Benneth said. “It’s a two-man race—literally. And they’re deadlocked. Both sides are now gathering to decide who gets the seat.”

  “Votes?” Eddie repeated, eyebrows furrowed. “Wait—students get a say?”

  “Not directly,” Benneth replied. “But performance, influence, and within the academy hold sway. The Grand Prix isn’t just a race—it’s political theater. A showcase of power for both families.”

  Chippy popped a grape into her mouth. “Hehehe… that sounds like my brother. Always doing big things but never showing up for them.”

  “Indeed,” Benneth said with a weary sigh. “The man’s reputation precedes him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he called off this year, same as last.”

  “What?!” Eddie stood so fast his chair nearly toppled over. “If he does that, there’s he’ll get the votes he needs to win!”

  “Yes, exactly, young Trofen,” Benneth said, nodding firmly. “Which is why I’ve already taken measures. I’ve tasked Vix Nepton to bring some sense into him—to convince him to return.”

  The name made Rin flinch. Her fingers tightened around her skirt in her lap, and her gaze dropped instantly to the floor.

  Eddie noticed and frowned softly.

  Benneth, however, continued as if unaware. “Vix has his… reservations, but he’s loyal enough to the cause. If we’re to stop the Vandergrifts from controlling this academy—and everything beneath it—we’ll need all the help we can get.”

  “…If only he were loyal to me…” Rin muttered under her breath.

  “Rin? Did you say something?” Chippy asked cautiously, placing a gentle, supportive hand on her shoulder.

  “Oh! Nothing!!! Please continue!”

  “I wasn’t talking…” Chippy squinted.

  “Ahem. Anyway,” Benneth continued, “I feel like you three are the only ones I can trust with this information. You’ve proven to be quite… unique—and strong.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Chippy said, utterly flattered.

  Rin and Eddie both shrank at the memory of the two near-death experiences they’d shared.

  “In short,” Benneth went on, “you two winning this race would be the same as racing for Team Yaxon. To put it bluntly, the fact that his son doesn’t win will mean something quite substantial to Yaxon’s plans.”

  “That’s it…? Just win the race?” Rin asked.

  “Probably catch the cheating too, I’m sure. It’s just—I really have no idea where to start.”

  Eddie and Chippy exchanged glances and shrugged.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Alright! I’m in! Let’s go kick their butts!” Chippy declared.

  “Yeah! I just don’t want to see Drenco win. And honestly? Being on the Staffire Squad sounds sooo cooolll!” Eddie said, nearly drooling.

  Rin was unamused as she looked at the two.

  “Well, if you’ve had enough of the snacks,” Benneth said, “you’re welcome to leave.”

  Chippy promptly vacuumed up the rest of the tray, not leaving a single crumb for Eddie.

  “Chippy! What the heck?!” Eddie shouted, shaking his fist.

  Chippy only giggled before skipping out the door.

  Eddie and Rin stood to follow, until—

  “Rin. Stay back for a moment. I need to talk to you. Alone.”

  Rin looked back at Benneth, confused, but Eddie could see her real emotion—discomfort.

  “M-Maybe I can stay too? You know, just to help out?” he offered.

  “No, Eddie. I’ll be alright,” Rin said, forcing a warm smile. It worked.

  “Alright… but I’ll be waiting outside for you, okay?”

  “Thank you, Eddie,” Rin replied softly.

  He gave a nervous nod and stepped outside, leaving the room to Benneth and Rin.

  “Take a seat, dear.”

  Rin immediately sat down, as if trying to disappear into the seat.

  “What’s wrong, Uncle Remmy…?”

  Benneth gave her a warm, genuine smile.

  “It’s so nice to hear those words from you, Rin.”

  She finally looked up at him, then sighed.

  “It’s been hard, hasn’t it?” he asked softly.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “That damned Vix,” Benneth muttered, half to himself. “He’s just too hard to talk to.”

  Rin stayed silent for a while, gaze drifting away. Then she closed her eyes and whispered, “He’s trying his best. I’m sure.”

  “From my point of view, it doesn’t look like that. I yelled at him, you know?”

  Rin opened her eyes and met his gaze.

  “And I bet it helped with nothing, did it?”

  Benneth shrugged, still smiling faintly.

  “Guilty as charged.”

  Rin suddenly stood up, scoffing.

  “I just don’t get it! He promised! He promised me! And now all he does is… have those men in white robes take me from school, then back home, then back here—and I never even get to him! I just… sit in my room all day! That’s it!”

  “What’s your address? I can visit,” Benneth offered.

  “What’s an address?” Rin asked, her tone snapping back to childish innocence.

  Benneth facepalmed hard.

  “I really need to kick his ass one day. Anyway, don’t worry—I’ll find out, and I’ll come visit.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  Benneth flinched. Those two words hit harder than any insult he imagined she could throw.

  “Wh-What do you mean?” he stammered.

  “I said don’t bother. I’m just some project to you, aren’t I? That’s what the old Director said.”

  “That was a selfish nutcase! He was—he was only trying to get rid of you as quickly as he could!”

  “Yeah? And then what?” Rin shot back, her eyes trembling. “He gave me something real. For a long time.”

  Tears began to pool in her eyes.

  “He gave you a cold-hearted man who aimed to kill you! Need I remind you, girl, in the end you chose to save me—save your friends!”

  This time, Rin took a step back. Her voice cracked, raw and breaking.

  “I don’t care!” she exploded. “I had everything, Remmy! For a while, I had everything I ever wanted! And now it’s… all gone…”

  “You’re wrong, Rin. You never had much to begin with. But now? You’re starting to learn how to reach out—to catch the things that matter, and hold onto them tight. I’m only here to guide you. That’s it.”

  Benneth’s voice deepened with emotion. “I care, Rin. I care about you as my own—not as some student who happens to attend this academy.”

  He raised his voice slightly, but it wasn’t quite a shout like hers.

  Rin sniffled, shoulders trembling.

  “Now… I really hate doing this,” Benneth said, opening a drawer and pulling out a small piece of chocolate. He held it out to her.

  Rin opened her palms, accepting it carefully.

  “But I don’t like it when you leave my office in tears,” he continued. “Though it’s only happened twice, I’m not making it a habit. Please—have the chocolate, if you dare. It’s American. Tastes like vomit. Nothing like the kind you find in France.”

  He smiled softly. “But it’s chocolate nonetheless. And please… don’t cry, my dear.”

  Benneth stepped around his desk, coming to stand beside her.

  “You’re not alone,” he said gently. “Things will change. I can’t ensure them myself, but , my dear girl—you’ll demand them to take place. You are special. I promise.”

  “Don’t,” Rin muttered. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “Oh, don’t be mistaken, dear.” Benneth bent down slightly, his hand resting on her head as he met her eyes. “This is something I keep.”

  He lifted her chin gently with a finger.

  Rin sniffled again, refusing to let a single tear fall.

  “My… your nose has changed,” Benneth noted, smiling faintly. “A bit more pointed now. And your skin—it’s darker.”

  “Huh? What? It–it is?” Rin rubbed her nose frantically, then looked down at her arms.

  “Must’ve been the familiar ritual,” Benneth said. “Anyway, best get back to your dorms. I’m sure House Master Vanessa will throw a fit if you’re late.”

  Rin nodded, still sniffling.

  “Oh—and seriously, American chocolate taste like vomit. But it’s all I had.”

  “Yes, Uncle,” Rin said softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

  Benneth patted her back one last time before letting her go.

  Rin lingered at the doorway for a moment, the taste of bittersweet words still heavy on her tongue. The faint smell of ink and dust from his office followed her out into the hall — where the noise of students and footsteps felt suddenly distant.

  “Hey, Rin!”

  Eddie’s voice snapped her back to the present. He was right there by the wall, legs crossed, looking like he’d been waiting forever.

  “Hey, Eddie…” she murmured, rubbing her eyes quickly. “Wanna share this chocolate with me?”

  He smiled. “Oh—sure!”

  She tore the wrapper open and split the piece in two. They each took a bite.

  “BLEH!” Both spat it out at once.

  “That tastes like vomit!” Eddie groaned.

  “It taste like vomit!” Rin managed to say through a cough.

  And just like that, laughter filled the hall — shaky, honest, and little too loud.

  #

  It was another Saturday morning—colder this time. Rin slipped into a soft grey, slightly oversized sweater and a pair of fuzzy dark-blue pants that fit the academy’s dress code. The rule was simple: bottoms always had to be dark blue—skirts, shorts, pants, leggings, anything.

  She met up with Eddie before heading to the garage, where Chippy was already working on her gear. Rin found that odd. Chippy usually loved to sleep in on weekends—unless something special had her buzzing with excitement. Then, she’d be up before sunrise.

  Rin hugged herself as she walked beside Eddie, who kept his hands tucked in his pockets. It was a new habit of his, but she didn’t mention it.

  When they finally reached the garage in the Colosseum, Rin was met with a familiar sight: lights of every color glowed across the walls, and bits of metal and gears floated midair, being tinkered with and tested. The whirring—some soft, some thunderous—vibrated through her chest.

  She smiled at the sight. Eddie was already craning his neck, searching through the organized chaos.

  “I wonder where she is…” he murmured—

  —and, as if summoned by his words, Chippy popped out from behind a suspended hover-engine.

  “Hey, guys! Come on, look! You HAVE to see my setup!”

  She grabbed both of their hands and dragged them to her corner of the floor. There sat her , suspended by two support wires, with a small holographic display hovering beside it. Chippy tapped rapidly on the screen, and the bike rose smoothly into the air.

  Grabbing a wrench and a thin rod with two prongs at the tip, she knelt down and began tinkering underneath with full focus.

  “Wow, Chippy… you’ve really got… something going on here…” Rin said, feigning interest as best she could.

  “Isn’t it?!” Chippy squealed. “I tuned this bad girl to transition gears even faster than before—eighteen milliseconds faster! And get this—the air compression rate at first press? Increased by a PSI!” She practically bounced in place with excitement.

  “Wow… that’s a lot of words Eddie doesn’t understand, Chippy! I’m so proud of you, girl.” Rin said, placing a hand on Chippy’s shoulder with mock sincerity.

  Chippy only squealed louder from her own excitement, while Eddie squinted at Rin.

  “Seriously? Speak for yourself! An old Rin would’ve never!”

  “I’m not anymore! I’m twelve!” Rin shot back, puffing her cheeks.

  “That’s ,” Eddie said with a smirk.

  Rin blew a raspberry in protest, and soon both girls burst out giggling—Chippy’s laugh bright and electric, Rin’s softer but genuine.

  “Hey, wait! Where’s that other boy who’s supposed to be your partner, Chippy?” Eddie asked.

  “Oh, him? No idea. Dunno if he’s even on the floor yet,” Chippy replied, already going back to work on her bike.

  Eddie squinted, frustrated. “Are you ?! We’re—” He stopped himself, leaned close to her ear, and whispered, “We’re on Team Staffire! We need to get this right so we can win! Not just for us—but for , too! We gotta show the Vandergrifts their place and change houses!”

  “Mhmm, I know,” Chippy said without looking up. “The way I see it? If he wants to win as badly as me, then he should be out here looking for me. If not? Rin’s back on the board.”

  Eddie glanced at Rin—just in time to see her yelp and shake her head violently, crossing her fingers in denial.

  “I don’t think that logic tracks,” Eddie started, “we need to—”

  A thunderous

  suddenly cut him off. The sound wasn’t an explosion—it was .

  Music erupted through the garage speakers. The walls practically pulsed with it.

  Rin winced, covering her ears from the sheer loudness while Eddie shrank back. Chippy, however, was already jamming out.

  “AW YEAH! THEY GOT THE SPEAKERS RUNNING!” a boy’s voice shouted over the music.

  Slowly, Eddie’s head began to bop to the beat.

  “SEE?! YOU’RE GETTING IT, EDDIE!” Chippy cheered.

  Eddie tried to suppress his smile but ended up chuckling instead.

  Rin lowered her hands, blinking. The bass still thundered in her chest—it was loud—but something about it made her heart feel lighter. When she looked over at Chippy dancing and Eddie awkwardly swaying along, she realized her own head was moving too.

  It was strange… but it felt good. Like she was finally part of the moment instead of just watching it.

  “Rin! You’re getting it too!” Chippy shouted, hopping over to grab her hands and flinging them up and down to the beat.

  Rin laughed as Chippy twirled her around.

  “Alright… this is kinda fun,” Eddie admitted, finally giving in and grooving to the electric rhythm.

  Chippy released Rin and hopped back to her bike, finishing the last mod she wanted to install.

  “Alright,” she said, wiping her hands. “That should be good enough for the first race.”

  “Good enough? How do you know?” Eddie asked, still nodding slightly to the fading music. “Were the details for the first race released?”

  “Mmm.” Chippy mumbled something that sounded like and shrugged.

  Eddie groaned, facepalming. “Unbelievable…”

  “Actually,” a new voice chimed in from behind him, “it’s pretty smart to keep your gears tightened whenever you can.”

  Eddie and Rin turned around. A boy stood there—slightly taller than all three of them, with yellowish-blond hair and large circular glasses. Freckles dusted his cheeks and nose, and the sleeves of his shirt hung past his palms as he waved.

  “Hey guys! I’m Alvie!”

  “Alvie?” Eddie repeated. “Uh… nice to meet you,” he said, extending a hand.

  “Yeah, it’s a pleasure,” Alvie replied, shaking it warmly. “So, what do you guys think about the house music so far?”

  “House music?” Rin asked, stepping forward.

  “Whoa…” Alvie blinked, his voice softening. “You’re so pretty… like the only jasmine in a field of dead grass…”

  Rin froze, cheeks blooming red. Eddie turned red too—though his was more from secondhand flattery.

  “Dang,” he muttered. “That was… deep. A-Anyway, are you racing, Alvie? Or are you gonna be an attendant for your team racers?”

  “Oh, I’m racing!” Alvie said brightly. “Got my own gear and everything.” He chuckled, pointing his thumb over his shoulder—at absolutely nothing.

  “Oh, really?” Chippy cut in, crossing her arms and jutting out her hip with a look that screamed suspicion. “Then let’s it.”

  “Uh, Chippy? Maybe don’t interrogate the poor guy—” Eddie started.

  “Oh, sure! I’d love to show you!” Alvie said, already spinning on his heel before Eddie could finish.

  He led the trio across the garage floor until they came to a stop—and Eddie’s jaw dropped.

  It wasn’t a bike like Chippy’s, or a simple buggy, or even a hoverboard.

  “What… is that?” Eddie breathed.

  “It’s an EX-Airship-type gear,” Alvie explained proudly. “It rides kinda like a hoverbike, but you’re leaned forward—almost lying on it. Perfect for short aerial shortcuts.”

  “You can just…

  the track?” Eddie asked, baffled.

  “Yeah. But only when there’s turbulence routes or fly-boosters. Otherwise…” Alvie grinned. “…you fall.”

  “That sounds like death,” Eddie said flatly.

  “It would be!” Alvie laughed. “That’s why you only do it if you’re confident.”

  Chippy was already circling the machine, eyes wide with curiosity. The gear was roughly the size of her hoverbike but wider, shaped like a cross between a jet and a glider. It was painted matte grey with yellow thrusters and glowing pink accent lights that pulsed softly like a heartbeat.

  “How fast does it go?” Chippy asked, pushing various buttons on it.

  “Well…” Alvie hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “After a few tune-ups, I got it to about 285 kilometers per hour.”

  “Ehhhh. Too slow. Pathetic.”

  Alvie blinked. “Is it really?”

  “Yeah. I’m doing way past 300.”

  Eddie and Rin exchanged glances—the kind that said .

  “Whoa… that’s awesome!” Alvie said, impressed. “Er—uh—what’s your name?”

  “Ah. Chippy. Just call me Chippy. Y’know—the future first-place medalist.” She waved a wrench casually, still crouched over his airship. “You’ll remember my name, I promise.”

  Alvie froze. Rin and Eddie looked at each other, confused by his sudden silence.

  “Your name is… Chippy?” he asked, voice trembling.’

  “See?” she said smugly. “You remembered it already.”

  “I-I-I-I-I th-th-th-think we’re partners… in this race…”

  “WHAAAT?!” Rin and Eddie shouted at once.

  Chippy’s head snapped around, eyes wide.

  “WHAT?! YOU?! ”

  “You must’ve been the boy who replaced me!” Rin said, stepping up to him. But as soon as she got close, she froze—her face flushing pink. The boy blushed too, stumbling over his words.

  “Oh… th-then you must be Rin! Thank you so much for letting me enter.”

  “Y-Yeah… no problem,” she stammered. “You seem to know a lot more about this than I do…”

  “Well…” Eddie cut in, stepping between them with a grin. “At least I know what be doing. Looks like I’m your coach, Alvie—yours and Chippy’s!”

  “Really? Er…”

  “Eddie,” he clarified with a chuckle. “Name’s Eddie.”

  “Aww, that sucks,” Rin said playfully, frowning just a little. “I can’t really help out then, can I? Eddie, is there anything I can do to join this?”

  “Oh! You can be my , Rin!” Eddie said, flipping open his handbook. “It says here that while I’m calling the shots and helping the racers directly, you can handle everything else—pit crew coordination, gear checks, core stabilization, all that good stuff.”

  “Whoa… awesome! I’d love to be your co-coach, Eddie!” Rin exclaimed, pumping her fist with a triumphant “Yes!”

  “Oh wow. Losers gathering, anyone?” a sharp voice called from behind them. A group of boys pushed forward—Drenco leading, all swagger and sneer.

  Rin’s smile vanished. Her fist clenched until her knuckles paled.

  “Drenco.” The name left her like a blade.

  Eddie squared his shoulders; Chippy slid up beside him, spitting fire.

  “The heck do you want, you nuisance?” Chippy barked.

  “Nothing,” Drenco drawled. “Just sizing up the enemy.”

  “Go back to the North House garage,” Chippy snapped.

  “Didn’t you hear me, idiot?” Drenco sneered, circling them. “Just seeing what you’re up to. Getting an idea for the race. By the looks of it…” He curled his fingers at his throat in a mock choke. “You lot will be dead last.” He laughed, the sound cruel.

  Eddie’s jaw tightened. “Hey—wouldn’t that be cheating? Shouldn’t I report this?”

  “Cheating?” Drenco scoffed. “You planning to hide behind the professors forever? You’d be a kid your whole life.” His crew laughed.

  “And what’s that?” he jabbed at Alvie’s machine. “An EX-Airship? You’ll weigh the track down with that monstrosity. Change gears—or withdraw, loser.”

  Alvie shrank back, eyes wide.

  Drenco took a step forward, smirk widening—then Rin moved so fast everyone flinched. She grabbed his collar and dragged him close; she didn’t shout. She didn’t need to. Her voice was low, cold as winter water.

  “Listen carefully, ,” she said, each syllable a snapped wire. “You don’t get to waltz into someone else’s race and demand the prize like it’s owed to you. You want the gold? Earn it. Step onto that track and just to keep up with Chippy and Alvie. Try to breathe when they pass you. Try not to choke on the dust they leave behind. When you look up at their medals, you’ll be the one begging—on your knees, if you have any pride left.”

  Her fingers tightened for a half-second on his collar—more pressure than needed—then she shoved him back. The shove had the weight of a warning, not a fight.

  For a stunned beat, nobody moved. Drenco’s laugh died in his throat. Eddie and Chippy blinked, stunned into silence. Even some of Drenco’s boys hesitated.

  Rin’s stare bored into Drenco like a promise: try anything, and she would make sure he remembered the moment forever.

  Drenco brushed down his shirt where Rin had grabbed him, trying to save face.

  “B-Big talk for the wimp not even entering!”

  “Oh?” Rin crossed her arms. “But I am. I’m their coach.”

  Drenco blinked. Rin stepped forward, her voice steady—low, deliberate.

  “We’re here to win. Not to come second. Not to wonder what first place feels like. There’s no other way around it. I don’t care where you end up on that track— My Chippy and Alvie are winning, and that’s that.”

  Her hand slipped to her side. A flick of her wrist, and her wand appeared—its tip gleaming as she leveled it straight at Drenco’s face.

  “Now unless you want to leave this garage missing a few bones, I suggest you start running.”

  “Whoa—whoa!!! Rin! What the heck?!” Eddie shouted, hands raised, trying to defuse her simmering rage.

  Drenco flinched backward, eyes wide, then broke into a full sprint.

  “Holy heck! She’s friggin’ Run!” he screamed as his group scattered behind him.

  Only once the last echo of footsteps vanished did Rin lower her wand and slide it back into her side.

  Chippy, Alvie, and Eddie just stared.

  “Rin…?” Eddie said carefully, inching closer.

  “Eddie?” Rin exhaled sharply through her nose, her glare softening into calm authority. “Change of plans. I’ll be coach. You’ll be my co-coach.”

  Eddie gulped. He wanted to argue—wanted to remind her this wasn’t how they’d planned it—but something in her tone told him not to push it. Not now.