A streak of green light shot across the sky above the skyscraper district. Leo didn’t hesitate. He slammed the pedal, weaving through traffic that barely existed, cutting corners across sidewalks. His heart pounded.

At 1:15 left, he hit a ramp hidden behind a gas station. The car launched into the air—slow motion. The comet was directly overhead. For one perfect second, he was weightless, flying through neon rain.

Leo hit the gas. 120 mph. 160. 200.

Rain began to fall on the pixelated windshield. The wipers flicked on automatically. He drifted through a construction zone, sparks flying from the bumper. Then, a notification popped up:

The end... until tomorrow night.