S1, E5 | The Swamp Stratum

“Drivers, you are now entering the Swamp Stratum” Caesar’s voice proclaims through the building’s sound system, warning those about to take the wheel of the conditions they can expect inside as the building’s interior continues flashing beneath yellow lights. “Enter the race expecting conditions similar to what you would find in such an area” the scientist persists, “muggy and humid conditions, a damp environment and overgrowth are just some of what can be expected.”

Sliding his second arm into the sleeve of his leather jacket, Kurt’s hurried exit from a nearby side room comes to a sudden stop as his now-widened eyes fall upon his garage. “What the hell!?” the man shouts aloud, overhearing the engines of various cars roll away from their place in storage as he stares at his vandalised property, his driver’s side door having been torn off at the hinges and the viciously removed brake system being left for him to find atop his hood, “who did this!?”

Following Taro’s lead with his window rolled down, Mark’s Firebird comes to a rolling stop just a few yards away whilst his hand hangs out from inside, draped over the vehicle’s dark finish. “Shit, bro! It looks like you’re not gonna be winning today!” the younger sibling proclaims, his declaration catching the ear of his now enraged older brother. “You son of a-!” Kurt shouts aloud, breaking out into a sprint after the Firebird that immediately leaves him in the dust- advancing for the stratum.

Stomping his boot on the ground, Kurt watches his brother’s muscle car tear off around the corner in favour of the portal whilst he’s left behind, punching the air at the realisation that this stratum will not be one he can accompany his fellow drivers into.

“I’m receiving word from downstairs that Kurt Wayland’s vehicle has been vandalised” Ellis remarks from a chair near the control room’s centre, looking toward his superior, whose eyes follow the assortment of onboard cameras that now pay him a look at the race’s new leg. “Ginger’s telling me Kurt believes it was his brother who damaged the car” the right hand man confesses further, watching a displeased expression and shake of the head come over Caesar.

Beneath a sickly green sky, miles of racetrack identical to the one present in the previous stratum wind around in loops and turns, twists and corners, splits and forks in the road with their either side covered in a glossy green moss. In formation, the DSRC spills out from the concentrated energy and touches down upon the racing track, their cameras the first to return a signal to the second level’s control centre.

“Woah, look at those trees!” Tyson proclaims from within his helmet, his voice the first to be heard by the scientist back home. Stretching hundreds of yards into the air, massive trees line the environment the motorcycle club is amongst the first to enter, unbelievably long vines falling from their leaves and hanging aimlessly over the ground.

Beneath the racetrack at all times during the first mile, a fog-covered body of hazy water awaits any unfortunate drivers that happen to fail at taking advantage of the road’s width. “Are splits in the road at the start of the track supposed to be common or is this just a coincidence?” Butch questions through the microphone, taking note of the four-way split in the road that they quickly come upon, its almost-immediate appearance seeming more purposeful than anything else.

“I’m not sure, Mr. Tarken” Caesar responds, watching the next line of dash cam feeds pop up along the monitors that he sits before, drivers from amongst the other racing squads spilling into the stratum in the order they’d arrived. “Drivers, within the first few hundred yards of the stratum, there will be four different routes you can take” the scientist warns, making a note of the drivers just now spilling into the race, “I’m not sure which will be the most preferable, so choose carefully.”

“Yeah! Kaiyo especially!” Mark proclaims, chuckling in an amusement that the squad’s stratum-present drivers don’t understand. “What? Why single us out?” Vert questions back, only to hear the voice of a man whose car he cannot find. “Because Mark fucked up my car” Kurt replies through Caesar’s standing microphone, having climbed up the long staircase that led to the control room quickly out of anger and spite, “there are only three of you in the stratum.”

“Woah, woah, woah- I wouldn’t go pointing fingers if I were you” Mark responds, defending himself whilst following the taillights of the Crew’s co-founder from a few yards away. “Focus on the race, Wayland” Taro calls back, passing a glance toward the driver he’s less confident in his ability to trust that the others in his own squad, “Caesar, anything else we should know about this place?”

“Yeah, where’s the lightning!?” Alec shouts aloud, keeping his head lower than usual to ensure a clear sight on the misty, green-shaded sky above, fearing the obstacles he wishes not to take him by surprise. “I don’t believe you will be experiencing lightning in this stratum the way you did in the last” Caesar answers, reclaiming possession of the standing microphone, “the last stratum struck you with a storm. I would imagine there’d be a swamp-specific obstacle that the-”

Falling silent, the scientist stares into the dash cam on Dale’s Fury, squinting as he leans closer to the screen. “What is that?” Kurt wonders aloud, taking interest in the same object that encapsulates the wonder that the second level’s creator holds within. “A swamp specific obstacle that what?” Alec questions aloud, having gone without the answer he’d looked for whilst Ellis steps out of the distant seat and joins the enamoured overseers in their curious gaze.

Taking the centre-left route, Nolo leads his Kaiyo drivers down the stretch of track that he’d selected at random, the squad’s ranks within the stratum only being three, but the added drivers that tail them bring the total racers on the track to seven. “Care to back up your words from earlier, Nolo?” Harland questions aloud, leading the Crew down the same stretch of roadway that their crosstown rivals occupy, still trailing the other group by a good few yards.

“Only if you care to concede defeat when you lose like a grown man, Torque” Nolo retorts, his right hand grasping the steering wheel tighter as Kaiyo continues to focus on their driving. “Excuse me, but I’d still like an answer to my question!” Alec interjects, leading the Esteemed down the left-most route that takes an even deeper turn to the side than the track one leap over from them, “can someone answer my question about the swamp-specific obsta-?”

Falling silent as the racetrack straightens out, Alec continues to lead his drivers further through the track before instinctively stomping on the brakes as the distant sight catches his eye. “What the hell!?” the squad’s leader proclaims, turning his wheel to the right whilst continuing to act on instinct before the vehicle he drives begins skidding to a stop sideways.

“Holy shit, Alec! What the-!” Lana proclaims, having trailed just far enough from her boyfriend to take her thumb toward one of the buttons on her Pista’s wheel. Following the woman’s lead, Ross and Eric make use of their supercars built in propulsion system and fire off the ground, their wheels still spinning as their vehicles tear through the air, eventually reconnecting with the ground once they’d leapt over their leader’s stationary vehicle.

Feeling the vibrations shake the track that they drive upon, all fifteen of the stratum’s racers duck slightly for cover whilst a blistering roar tears through the air from a mountain-sized beast at the halfway point of the track. “What the fuck is that!?” Nolo shouts whilst keeping his vehicle on the straight-away, eyes taking toward the awe-striking figure at the stratum’s centre every chance he can get.

Appearing more like a city-sized accumulation of rot and overgrowth, a beastly-looking presents a gaping wound that acts as a mouth, green and yellow-ish vines tear apart as it howls into the disgusting air. “Drivers, do not-!” Caesar instinctively proclaims, quickly grabbing at the standing microphone before watching the swift swing of an onboard camera interrupt him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh my god!” Alec screams in terror, pulling his hands away from the steering wheel and pressing them against whatever solid pieces of his interior can be found. “Something’s got Alec!” Eric shouts back, looking in the rear-view mirror as the wheels of their group leader’s car leave the ground, picked up by a rotting vine that latches itself around the metal framework.

“Shit! What do I do!?” the Esteemed’s leader proclaims, watching the stratum’s environment zip before his eyes as his vehicle is rapidly carried through the air by some unknown force. “You’ve got an angel button! Use it!” Ellis shouts back, hurriedly barking the command with hopes that the driver would have the chance to use it.

“Alec! Use the-!” Lana continues to proclaim, paying too much attention to the ongoing crisis to keep her car from drifting into the mossy overgrowth to the track’s left side, its damp and sticky surface latching onto her tires whilst the rest of the Esteemed keep straight. Being pulled back by the decaying vine as if it were an arm, Alec’s car comes to a sudden stop, its motion momentarily ceasing enough for the young man to regain his composure enough to reach for the emergency device.

Discarded like a baseball, Alec’s McLaren is hoisted through the air and sent flying into the stratum’s uncertain and untravelled distance, hurled like garbage before vanishing mid-flight in a sudden burst of light. “Lana, speed up!” Ross shouts amongst the chaos, passing the woman’s vehicle along the right side before Eric does the same, only for the now-trailing driver to look toward the ground, where the gas pedal is already pressing against it.

In a swift motion, the newly-freed arm of rotting vine captures the vehicle of its recent victim’s girlfriend, wrapping itself around the vehicle’s body before picking it off the ground. “Lana, it’s got you now!” Eric shouts as his eye keeps to the rear view mirror, both he and Ross helpless to do anything other than continue driving as the woman’s vehicle is lifted through the air.

Without wasting a minute, Lana reaches for the plastic cover on her centre console and presses the button beneath it, surrounding her car in a blast of light that suddenly finds her returned from danger. Firing out of the concentrated energy’s blue orb, the woman finds her car being shot through the air within the second level, returned to Caesar’s dome aggressively as her tires drag along the exiting ramp.

Coming to a sudden and unintended stop at the sloping track’s base, Lana catches her breath for a moment before looking toward her driver’s side window, where the overturned McLaren’s driver crawls out from his seat. Catching his breath as he pushes himself off the ground and takes a moment to regain his balance, Alec rests his body against his upside-down vehicle and stares into his girlfriend’s face, her look of shock strikingly matching the visage that he, himself, wears.

= Driveline is created by Zachary Serra, all rights to the series belong to Zachary Serra and his entity of Pacer1 from the start of Season 1 onwards =

“Alec and Lana have made it out of the stratum. They’re alright” Kurt remarks, having taken over control of the standing microphone whilst Caesar keeps his eyes focused on the cameras that return their transmissions. “Alright, Ross. That means it’s just you and I” Eric proclaims, a gesture that sparks a grin upon the leading driver’s face, his nod of reassurance easily earned.

“Let’s get it, E-man” Ross replies, reaching for a new button off to his steering wheel’s side as their collective journeys lead them toward a straight away. “Holy shit!” the confident driver exclaims, feeling his body’s weight being thrust into his Tributo’s seat as its speed reaches an excessive level, tearing into the near-three hundreds whilst leaving behind a trail of dark smoke.

“How are you boys doing, Kaiyo?” Kurt wonders aloud from the second level, keeping his eyes glued to the camera on the squad leader’s Porsche, “are those Crew bastards giving you a hard time?” Scoffing at the notion, Nolo shakes his head before passing a look toward the Oldsmobile that begins catching up along his right side. “Crew doesn’t give Kaiyo problems” the leader replies, continuing to follow the turns in the track onward with a purpose in doing so.

“That’s what I like to hear” Kurt replies, only for his comments to be immediately questioned by the one voice that angers him more than any other. “Of course it’s what you’d like to hear... ‘cause it’s bullshit!” Mark rebukes, eyeing the bumper to Talia’s M-Coupe as he pulls further toward the right, attempting to overtake the Crew’s co-founder whilst speaking, “the Crew’s been giving Kaiyo nightmares for years. Face it, Kurt... We’re the boogeymen to you cocksuckers.”

“Wayland, get back in formation” Taro interjects, spotting the pack-drifting vehicle fall toward his right and use the draft he’d amassed to overtake the co-founder. “We’ve trailed behind these assholes for long enough; I’m getting sick of their yapping” Mark responds, passing the co-founder’s vehicle before attempting to slide in ahead, looking to claim the man’s position as second in line, “we’re putting these lame ducks in the ditch where they belong.”

Holding steady in place, Taro watches his subordinate’s face take toward his vehicle as if to gesture that the co-founder should step off the accelerator and allow him to re-enter the line. Though not reacting at first, the ‘Cuda Convertible’s driver keeps his thoughts held within his head for a few seconds as he thinks them over, eventually allowing the stronger of the calls to be made.

“Ronny, fall back a bit” Taro instructs, doing as quietly requested and stepping off the gas just slightly, reserving the position ahead of himself for the youngest Wayland sibling to take over. “Go ahead change your formation however you want, boys” Nolo remarks, watching the exchange happen from the dashboard-mounted mirror before the sight falls out of reach with the slight left wind in the roadway, “Kaiyo’s the superior team. If you want to find that out first hand, be our guests.”

|

“Hey, bossman!?” Dale calls out through his headphones, speaking to whichever soul is willing to answer their question back in the second level. “It’s Kurt, Dale... What’s up?” the Kaiyo driver replies, still assuming the microphone whilst the scientist watches on. “What’s with this green crap on the side of the road?” the DSRC’s leader questions aloud, paying the mossy green finish slight attention the longer the race persists, “is that grass or something? ‘Cause it sure as hell don’t look it.”

Pulling his face away from the microphone, Kurt turns his focus toward the scientist beside himself, a brief glimpse of the environment doing little to afford him answers. “Caesar doesn’t know, Dale” the Kaiyo driver answers, a conclusion that doesn’t sit well or satisfy the bikers. “Would he be able to run tests on it if he had some?” Tyson soon wonders aloud, the inquiry giving the voice that returns to them a reason to pull away and look toward the professionals.

“I’m sure we could dissect its composition and figure out what it’s made of?” Ellis replies from the opposite side of the room, shrugging his shoulders to display his uncertainty with such a conclusion. “He says they might be able to run some tests, but it doesn’t sound like he’s confident they’ll get anything worthwhile from it” Kurt answers, summarising the retort as simply as he can.

“That’s good enough for me!” Butch’s son replies, pulling his bike out from the rest of the group and letting off the throttle just slightly, his outstretched hand slowly being lowered to the mossy covering he rides alongside. “Tyson, what are you doing!?” the club’s vice president calls back, watching his offspring begin to just barely fall behind the fourth member of their group, who also slows his speed just slightly to provide his friend with cover.

“I’ll cover him, Bucth!” Pat calls out, leading his bike toward his friend’s side whilst keeping an eye out for danger, his left hand freeing itself from the handlebars to reclaim the shotgun stored alongside the chopper’s side compartment. Making a concerted effort to return home with something of use other than a racing triumph, Tyson cautiously grazes the tips of his glove-covered fingers along the obstructions surface, waiting for them to latch onto anything worthwhile.

“I’ve got a bit!” the young man calls out, clenching his fist around a loose vine that tears away from the mossy coverage, a decent patch of chunky greenery dangling in the air from his possession as he uprights himself, tucking the muck into his lap before he and his friend reunite with the biking convoy.

“Trouble up ahead!” Dale proclaims, centering the attention of the DSRC’s members and those within the control room back home on the scene that befalls the front of his bike, a trio of green racing cars driving in a strange formation just a few hundred feet ahead. “Should we start playing catch up to them!?” Tyson calls out, securing the mossy substance before following his friend’s lead and arming himself with the concealed shotgun.

“You better bet we-!” Dale calls out, only to interrupt himself as he violently pulls off to the left, forced to evade the SUV-sized drone vehicle that stomps on the brakes just ahead, forcing him to manoeuvre around it. “Jesus! Go right!” the DSRC’s leader proclaims whilst following through in the opposite direction, his bike already too devoted to evading the suddenly-stopped vehicle ahead.

Already knowing his chances of regaining control are lost, Dale lifts the plastic covering of his angel button and slams his fist down as his wheels eviscerate the mossy substance on their way toward leaving the track’s surface, his bike vanishing in a burst of light as it veers right off the road.

Watching Dale’s dash cam footage immediately present them with the stratum’s exit ramp back at ground level below, Kurt immediately provides the group with reassurance. “Dale’s out of the stratum, it’s all down to you three!” the man barks aloud, putting aside any grudges with the group he knows not to be his own in the name of putting together a winning race.

Correcting their course, the DSRC’s remaining bikers reform their convoy with an adjusted route, now caught between the two drone vehicles ahead and the one that now travels behind themselves. “Keep your eyes on the road, boys!” Butch proclaims, instantly thrusted into leadership over the group as they continue their journey forward, running up behind the corporation’s cars with the intent to overtake them.

“That monster thing get you too!?” Alec calls out from a few yards away, watching Dale disembark from the bike that had dragged its tires along to a stop as it reached the end of the ramp. “No, those fucking robot things did!” the DSRC’s leader angrily barks, only to earn an amused chuckle from the safe and sound Esteemed couple.

“You think that’s-!?” Dale shouts, extending his arms before looking toward the direction that the pair of young adults had been standing at, their arms crossed and eyes held upward. Plastered along the cavernous walls of the second level, a massive screen with every onboard camera- their own included- play for the white coats and suddenly-exited drivers to watch on, affording the motorcyclist a chance to watch the rest of his club take on the enemy vehicles.

“I have a shot at the robot car behind us!” Pat calls out, keeping to the DSRC’s end with his weapon in hand, waiting for approval from the group’s leadership to fire. “Take it, kid!” Butch shouts back, granting the prize racer the permission he’d looked for, but refuses to take just yet. Holding off on squeezing the trigger, the only unrelated biker in the convoy keeps his eyes focused on the vehicle that trails them as their journey takes them to another straight away.

Shifting around, the bumper on the corporation’s vehicle begins to turn itself into something more closely resembling a barrel, its aim leading directly toward the human foes that ride ahead of it. Concentrating itself deep within the projectile hull, a ball of light similar in appearance to the energy that forms each stratum’s portal begins to emerge from the weapon-appearing canister, its line of sight targeted directly at the shotgun-wielding rider.

“Keep your eyes on the road ahead! On my mark, veer left!” Pat exclaims, barking his order to the riders that continue ahead of himself. “What’s going on back there!?” Butch shouts aloud, only to receive a reciprocation of the commands that had just met his ear.

“Veer left on my command!” Pat reiterates, steadying the barrel of his own weapon toward the launcher that had formed upon the trailing car’s front, his eyelids pressing closer together as he readies himself to take the shot. For just a few more seconds, the most accomplished of the three bikers awaits the first move to be made from behind, pulling his trigger and parting his lips once the orb is fired from the corporation car’s mount.

“Veer left!” Pat exclaims as he pulls the trigger, leading his convoy toward the direction and away from the danger posed by the intense orb of electricity. Meeting its target, the shotgun shell drives through the drone vehicle’s barrel and immediately strikes at its internal mechanisms, starting a chain of events within the car that leads to a massive fireball erupting from within.

With no time to react, the rear-most enemy vehicle that the DSRC had spent the last few moments driving toward finds itself as the victim of friendly fire. Erupting just as quickly as the out-gunned car had, the second drone vehicle of the day goes up in a ball of flames that the motorcycle club wastes no time in driving past with ease. “Oh yeah baby! Ha ha ha ha haaa!” Butch shouts aloud, jumping along the saddle he’s seated upon with glee at the altercation’s result.

|

“Fall back, Harland!” Mark calls out, driving along the man’s right in an attempt to pass him just as he’d done with the group’s co-founder; the ease in which he gets his way isn’t found this second time around. “I don’t think so, Wayland” the Crew’s leader responds, shaking his head in refusal whilst pointing his thumb backward, gesturing the man to retreat back into order, “fall back in line.”

“Yeah, fall back asshole!” Nolo jokes, still retaining the lead of both Kaiyo and the Crew whilst his long, brown locks flow in the breeze of the air they race through. Curling his lip at the offence he takes, Mark looks back at Harland without uttering a word before looking toward his wheel and pressing the button that his thumb had rested upon.

Taking off with great speed, Mark forces the rest of his squad to fall behind his lead as his boosters carry him farther ahead than all with ease, his vehicle now coming neck-and-neck with the Kaiyo leader’s own. “Fall back in line, Wayland!” Harland calls out, demanding the third-in-line return to such a position, only to be met with a refusal that proves more angering than dissenting.

“Take the lead back from me then, big guy!” Mark shouts back, looking toward his left to find the rival driver’s face peering toward him, “alright, Kaiyo... Let’s see what you’ve got.” Lowering his chin, Nolo shares an intense glare with the Crew’s driver before watching him take off once more, a second use of the Firebird’s turbo system allowing the younger Wayland sibling to shoot off ahead.

“Hey Harland, are you gonna go get your boy to play nice?” Kurt wonders from the control room, looking into the man’s onboard camera without receiving a reply from its driver. “No? Alright, then... I guess it’s up to you, Nolo” the Kaiyo’s second in command concludes, pressing his hands against the desktop that he shares with Caesar, looking intently at the cameras that meet their eyes, “put that asshole in his place.”

Looking to do as instructed, Nolo’s thumb sinks itself into the booster’s button before his car fires off in an effort of playing catch up. One after another, the Crew and Kaiyo drivers take after the lead of the cars in front of them and lay into their boosters before being joined by an unexpected company.

“Yeah, boys! Show ‘em who’s boss!” Alec cheers from the second level, watching as Ross and Eric’s dash cams show their vehicles speeding past the upgraded vintage truck that lingers behind the Crew’s trail. “Woah!” Ronny exclaims as the Esteemed cars boost past him unexpectedly, startling him enough for his control of the wheel to falter. Veering off to the right just slightly, the rear-most member of the Crew begins driving along the track’s mossy coating without a reason to adjust strategy.

“Shit, they got him! They got him!” Lana shouts in surprise as her glance at Ronny’s transmission shows the track fall away from his vehicle, which ascends high into the air alongside the driver. “Oh no! Oh no!” the ‘Lil Red Express racer proclaims as the beastly adversary’s rotting vines wrap around his truck’s exterior, lifting him off the track and into the sky.

“Guys! Don’t drive on the moss! Don’t drive on the moss!” Ronny shouts into his mic, holding off on using the angel button just long enough to warn those that are forced to leave him behind. Listening to the terror in the scrawny mechanic’s voice, the remaining members of each squad watch the captured ride disappear in a bolt of light, returning to the second level escaping tragedy.

With a squint in his eye, Mark takes notice of the journey ahead before catching a glimpse of the vehicles that lead them a rather sizable distance ahead, their green tail lights easily picking them out from the crowd. “I see we all made the right choice this time!” Pat exclaims, looking toward his left to see a second stretch of racetrack running parallel to their own, the DSRC and the one drone they trail appearing to be neck-and-neck with the remnants of the other three groups.

Staring past the Firebird beside him, Nolo takes notice of the chopper fleet on the track beside their own before instinctively triggering his car’s propulsion system. “Wayland!” the Kaiyo leader proclaims, jettisoning his vehicle into the air as the leading member of the Crew attempts to turn into him, making an effort at running the man off the road before finding success elsewhere.

“Shit!” Vert barks aloud, pulling off to the left just as his squad’s leader had wanted to in order to avoid the back half of Mark’s car, forced into the mossy coverage that slows his chrome NSX down just enough to fall victim to the stratum’s beast. “Nolo, it got Vert!” Kurt warns through the microphone, watching the youngest member of the Kaiyo team’s camera flash with light before suddenly firing down the second level’s exit ramp.

“What the hell, Wayland!?” Harland calls out, growing impatient with the out-of-line driver’s antics enough to voice his frustration. “Do you wanna beat these Kaiyo pricks or do you wanna keep hearing them bitch about us, huh!?” Mark fires back, again firing his thumb into the boosters that carry him closer toward the drones that lead them.

Not letting up on the opportunity, the Esteemed use another boost to fly past both of their rival groups, following the youngest Wayland brother’s lead before what remains of Kaiyo follow suit. “I wouldn’t keep so close by each other’s side, boys!” Butch warns, keeping a steady pace behind the drone car they make natural progress on with the use of its draft, aware that their journey within the stratum is bound to end sometime soon.

Disregarding the concerns, Nolo catches up to the front of the pack whilst their superior’s voice fills his helmet. “Butch is right, drivers! You’re playing this dangerously close as is!” Caesar shouts aloud, reclaiming the microphone from the Kaiyo driver that occupies his left side, “the goal isn’t to beat each other- the goal is to beat the corporation!”

Disregarding this information, Mark angrily slams his finger into the booster once more, only for Ross to match the same, their leads growing on the Kaiyo driver that takes a moment to consider his options. Without warning, Talia pulls away from her leader’s draft and overtakes him, speaking not a single word in the process.

Looking toward his right, Nolo watches the woman’s face obstruct itself with a presentation of two fingers, her index and middle digits held together as she follows through with her overtake. “Two fingers, Kurt!” the Kaiyo driver proclaims, registering their plan with the man who can do nothing more than sit back at the second level and hope for the best. “Good thinking, Talia” Kurt mutters beneath his breath, sparking a smirk as he nods to himself, satisfied with the coded language.

Shaking his head, Harland refuses to pay much in the way of mind toward the unexplained information before following Mark’s lead and hitting the boosters again, an action repeated by Taro. “It looks like it’s just you and me, meathead!” Ross prods as he looks through his passenger window, finding the side of the younger Wayland sibling whilst grinning.

“Good luck keeping up, prep bitch!” Mark blurts back, again using his booster whilst the de facto Esteemed leader follows suit, closing the distance between themselves and the corporation the rest of the way. Allowing themselves to fall behind the pack, the remnants of Kaiyo draft with each other for a few seconds at a time, maintaining ground slowly and surely as the ego maniacs ahead battle for supremacy with each other.

“What are they doing!?” Caesar calls back to the Kaiyo second in command, pleased to see at least some of his drivers refusing to expose themselves to carnage in waiting, but curious as to the strategy. “You’ll see” Kurt replies, not wanting to give anything away to souls other than his own squad, his confidence in their ability to see this through successfully never wavering.

“This race is mine, you rich bastard!” Mark exclaims, looking toward the car to his left whilst reaching for the booster once more, only for his speed to refuse any increase once the button’s been pressed. “Nice try, little brother...” Kurt speaks through the microphone, listening to his younger sibling’s confused grunt and identifying it with ease, aware that the man’s turbo has been depleted, “...you’re all out.”

“Shit, I’m out too!” Ross exclaims, the discovery being one that the rest of the leading drivers come to realise one after another. “They’re drafting to conserve their boost!” Caesar proclaims, looking back toward the Kaiyo dash cams as the revelation dawns upon him, a grin forming in the corner of his mouth, “that’s genius!”

Angrily returning their focus to the fleet of unmanned rides ahead, Ross and Mark ditch their plans of out-running each other one second prior to when they should’ve, the sight that befalls them once their attention is paid back to the track leaving them no time to react. “Oh fuck!” the younger Wayland sibling shouts whilst the Esteemed driver beside him utters not a single word, their feet slamming the brake pedal against the floor as the drone vehicles take on another barrier formation.

With as much success as they’d been met with in the Storm Stratum, the unmanned cars find their exteriors obliterated by the two leading drivers, creating a chaotic scene so unruly that neither Eric, Harland, or Taro could avoid falling prey to it as well. “Shit! Pile up! There’s a pile up!” Butch exclaims, keeping an eye out on the crisis that unfolds on the other side of the track, only for his own fleet to fall victim to the corporation’s act of desperation in exchange.

“Veer! Veer! Veer!” the man shouts, leading both his son and their final remaining biker past the mossy coating along the track’s side as the drone vehicle they’d tailed slows dramatically and successfully forces them to pull off the road. One after another, the DSRC fall to the same fate as their leader had in flying off the track, their instinctive reactions allowing them to retain their safety as their fists collide with the angel button, sending the club’s last representatives back home.

“Damnit!” Caesar exclaims as the motorcyclists spill out from the portal, anxiously returning his line of sight toward the approaching Kaiyo drivers. “Wait for it, Talia!” Nolo proclaims, continuing to trail behind the woman’s lead as they approach the multi-car pile up that is forced to follow the DSRC’s lead as the vines reach down to lift them from the road.

“Wait for it...” the Kaiyo leader again prompts, watching a sea of rotting vineyards descend from the sky and snatch the Esteemed and Crew drivers off the track, leaving them very little room to work with. “Now!” Nolo barks, watching Talia’s M-Coupe vanish from the front of him in a burst of light, the woman’s fist having struck the angel button and freed the squad’s leader a path onward.

Just as his second in command had in the stratum prior, Nolo triggers his propulsion system and hoists his Porsche through the air, launching over what remains of the Esteemed and Crew vehicles as they vanish into thin air one at a time, returning to the second level and leaving him on his own.

“Nolo, you’re the only one left!” Caesar frantically exclaims, watching the driver’s onboard camera present the distant sight of the concentrated energy, “the end is right there!” More focused than he’s ever been before, Nolo looks toward the track toward his right to find the lone corporation car travelling at an equal pace to himself, their final descent upon the finish line proving to be a contest worthy of a photo finish.

With other ideas in mind, the Kaiyo driver slams his fist against the booster system on his wheel and fires off into the distance, obtaining a commanding lead on the corporation adversary with the finish line in sight. Having other ideas of its own, the drone car flashes its headlights into the air ahead as it lags behind, playing one of the last cards it has to count on.

“Keep steady, Nolo! You’re almost-!” Kurt exclaims, falling silent at the same moment that his group’s leader feels his confident drop, the end of a race having never felt so far away than it does in that moment. Descending from the stratum’s sky, a cylindrical tube plummets into the final stretch of track left for the human driver to traverse, the explosion that follows blinding the Kaiyo driver with such an intense blast that he can do nothing less than stomp on the brakes.

“Woah, what the hell!?” Vert shouts from the ever-increasing group of drivers that watch on from the second level’s main ground, the transmission that all eyes focus on- the only one emanating from within the stratum- instead broadcasting nothing more than a white screen. Held back with every fibre of his seatbelt’s being, Nolo’s body thrusts forward as his vehicle screeches to a complete stop, the blast’s shockwave sending it as far back as the track will allow.

After a few seconds, the Kaiyo driver watches the debris settle in the remaining three hundred yards between himself and the portal as the final stretch of track he’d yet to descend upon vanishes without a trace. Unphased by the explosion, the drone vehicle blasts past the stationary Porsche with the assistance of the stratum’s booster fans and fires through the concentrated energy, claiming the victory it’d stolen from the human driver who’d proven himself worthy.

“NO!” Caesar howls before punching the screen registering Ronny’s transmission, forced to watch the corporation snatch the victory from Nolo’s reach just as the other drivers outside are. Tilting his head to the air with equal aggravation, Kurt conceals his disappointment far better than his superior does whilst Ellis is just left to hang his head, suffering the same sensation of being so close, and yet, nowhere close enough.

Falling from the air, the beastly stratum keeper’s rotting vineyard arms collapse onto the track in every direction, its horrid composition decaying immediately once the portal had been breached by a car worthy of winning. Falling inactive just as it had suddenly sprang to life, the Swamp Stratum hosts just the fully-stopped Porsche and the distraught driver who struggles to do much more than stare at the race’s endpoint, forced to accept that his efforts had been in vain and fallen fruitless.

From ground level, Vert punches the air as he turns away from the massive screen whilst Talia hangs her head in defeat from the driver’s seat of her M-Coupe. Confused, Harland and Taro look toward each other’s car and into the other’s visage, both seething with rage at the failure their subordinate had forced upon them. Shaking his head subtly, the co-founder displays his dissatisfaction with the younger Wayland sibling’s actions before driving off, an aggravation the Crew’s leader reciprocates.

== Driveline ==