The starting point for the race crouched in the shadow of a massive advertising projection—just an unremarkable maintenance access, unremarkable except to those who knew better. Kai arrived to find three skaters already waiting, their appearances and equipment marking them as veterans of Server Nova's underground.

  He recognized two from his night runs through the district—independents working the same gray markets he'd been exploring. The third remained unknown, his avatar decorated with geometric patterns that shifted continuously across skin and clothing.

  Two weeks in, standing among veterans. Definitely out of his depth. But the same stubborn resolve that had gotten him through impossible deliveries in the physical world kept his shoulders squared and expression neutral.

  They acknowledged him with curt nods, quick glances sizing up his gear. Their skates were higher-end models, power cores pulsing with vibrant energy that made his modified hand-me-downs look like they belonged in a digital junkyard.

  "Fresh upload?" one asked, gesturing to Kai's skates.

  "Two weeks in," he replied neutrally. Better to be underestimated than to broadcast either intimidation or unearned confidence.

  A knowing look passed between the others. "First circuit, then," the geometric skater said. "Word of advice? Don't push past your sync rate. Watching rookies crash gets old."

  The words stung, but he swallowed it down with practiced patience. These couriers had no idea what he could do, and that might work to his advantage.

  The independent who had spoken first—stocky courier with neon green highlights in his dark hair—circled Kai with professional curiosity. "Cipher's work, right? I recognize the modification patterns on those frames."

  A small smile broke through at the recognition. Cipher's reputation clearly extended further than he'd realized.

  "Cipher doesn't take on projects without potential," the courier continued. "Name's Packet. That's Zigzag," he gestured to the geometric skater, "and the quiet one is Mesh."

  The third independent—slender build with iridescent, scale-like patterns covering her dark skin—merely inclined her head. Her skates were custom-built with exposed copper wiring and pulsing amber cores, leaving flame-like trails when she shifted position.

  "If you're running Cipher's hardware," Packet added, "stay clear of the northeastern quadrant. Rendering instability has been causing desync issues with older neural interfaces. Three rookies crashed there last week."

  The unexpected advice caught him off guard. "Thanks for the tip." He narrowed his eyes, instinctively questioning the motive behind freely offered information. In Server Nova, helpfulness usually came tethered to invisible strings.

  "Don't thank me yet," Packet replied with a sardonic smile. "I still plan to beat you. Just prefer to win against functional opponents."

  That made sense—Packet wanted victory against his best effort, not watch him fail due to technical issues.

  Before he could respond, a notification appeared—a system-wide announcement visible only to those with the right access codes.

  [UNAUTHORIZED RACE EVENT: LOWER NEON CIRCUIT]

  [Participants: 7]

  [Starting Sequence: 60 seconds]

  [WARNING: Event not sanctioned by Server Administration]

  Seven participants. Three more yet to arrive.

  As if summoned by the thought, a group rounded the corner—three matching avatars in the distinctive blue and silver of the Slipstreams. Kai's stomach dropped at the sight of the same angular-featured skater who had chased him during his delivery to the Bitrot District.

  The courier predators of Server Nova. Perfect.

  The Slipstream leader noticed him immediately, expression shifting from casual arrogance to cold scrutiny. "Well, well. The trespasser who crashed our territory." The man approached. "Didn't expect to see you in a circuit. Thought you'd still be making small-time deliveries for at least a month before having the nerve to show up here."

  "I'm full of surprises," Kai replied, meeting his gaze steadily despite his racing heartbeat. Mother always said confidence was half the battle, and right now, projected confidence was his only armor.

  The Slipstream skater's eyes narrowed. "I'm Vex. Remember that name. You'll be hearing it when they ask who sent you limping back to whatever corp-drone job you're built for."

  The two flanking Vex—a female avatar with razor-sharp line work etched across her features and a broader male with constantly fluctuating height parameters—looked Kai up and down with undisguised contempt.

  "This the tunnel rat from sector seven?" the female skater asked, her voice carrying distinctive modulation of premium vocal enhancements.

  "The very same, Slice," Vex confirmed. "Thought we should see what he's capable of before we decide how to properly educate him about territory boundaries."

  Identical to physical-world courier territories—the posturing, the intimidation aimed at newcomers. Different world, same territorial games. He kept his expression neutral, refusing to be baited.

  The fluctuating Slipstream member circled behind Kai, his height shifting between average and imposingly tall as he moved. "Modified C-Class frames with... amateur customizations. Hardly seems worth our attention, Vex."

  "Maybe not, Volt," Vex replied, "but I want to know how he slipped past our scanners in sector seven. There's something off about his sync pattern."

  Kai's mouth went dry. "I'm just here to race."

  "Aren't we all?" Vex's tone carried thinly veiled mockery. "Though some of us are here to win." He glanced at the independents. "You three still fooling yourselves that you'll ever make crew status? How many circuits will it take before you accept your mediocrity?"

  Packet's jaw tightened. "Big talk from corporate puppets. How's the taste of SysAdmin boot these days?"

  "Delicious," Slice cut in, "especially with all the credits that come with it. But please, continue enjoying your... principles." She spat the last word like something distasteful.

  The countdown timer appeared, cutting short further exchange.

  [RACE INITIALIZATION: 10... 9... 8...]

  Kai turned his attention to the course, activating his enhanced perception. Flux lines appeared immediately, a complex network of previous race paths crisscrossing the environment. He filtered for the most efficient routes, comparing them with checkpoint requirements, pushing the territorial posturing from his mind. Focus on the race, not the racers.

  "Hey, rookie," Mesh spoke for the first time, her voice deep and resonant with digital harmonics layered beneath each word. "First checkpoint has a backdoor approach through the maintenance shaft. Lower visibility, less competition."

  The briefest of whispers, inaudible to anyone more than a foot away. Suspicion warred with gratitude at this unexpected assistance.

  [3... 2... 1... BEGIN]

  The skaters launched forward in synchronized movement. Kai kicked into motion, power cores humming as he accelerated. His chance to prove he belonged here, to transform from debt-bound upload to legitimate competitor.

  His modified skates might lack raw power, but the neural interface Cipher had upgraded responded with increasing sensitivity to his intentions. A rush of exhilaration hit him—the skates becoming less like attached tools and more like body extensions with each passing day.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The first checkpoint was straightforward—a data node positioned atop a derelict transport platform. He fell into formation behind the pack, analyzing their lines. The independents took conventional approaches, riding main flux paths toward the objective.

  But Vex and his crew cut a different angle, veering sharply toward what appeared to be a solid wall. At the last second, they phased through—another rendering irregularity, invisible except to those who knew exactly where to look.

  He hesitated. Crashing into solid code at full speed would be both painful and embarrassing—yet remaining on the standard path surrendered any chance of keeping pace.

  He committed, altering course toward the same spot, trusting his enhanced perception. As he approached the wall, he saw it—the subtle flicker in texturing, minute variance in opacity betraying the false surface.

  He passed through into a maintenance corridor beyond, momentary resistance of the false wall sending strange tingles through his avatar. He'd cut significant distance from the conventional route. Ahead, the Slipstreams moved with practiced coordination, formation tight and efficient.

  His lips quirked upward. Not so amateur after all.

  The corridor opened onto a vertical shaft. Without breaking stride, the Slipstreams transitioned to the wall, their skates' magnetic functions activating to grip the surface as they climbed at impossible angles.

  He followed, focusing on the precise neural commands for his own skates' wall-riding capability. The magnetic function engaged with a subtle vibration against his feet, and suddenly gravity reoriented.

  His stomach lurched as the entire world tilted. Skating up the wall, momentum carrying him in defiance of physics that still felt miraculous despite growing familiarity with the system's capabilities.

  Electric excitement coursed through him, a reminder of why he'd loved courier work in the physical world—the rush of doing what seemed impossible to ordinary people.

  [Sync Rate improved by 4%]

  The notification flashed as he reached the top of the shaft, emerging onto the transport platform seconds behind the Slipstreams. The first checkpoint pulsed with data energy, waiting to be claimed.

  He noticed how Vex and crew slowed fractionally before reaching it, their movements controlled but not pushing maximum capacity. They were testing the competition, not showing their full capabilities yet. Smart and strategic—they wanted to win without revealing their true limits.

  Vex reached the checkpoint first, absorbing the data fragment with a dismissive gesture before leaping off the platform's edge toward the next objective. His crew followed, movements choreographed with practiced skill and coordination.

  Just as Kai touched the checkpoint, feeling data transfer into his interface—technical specifications for a security node in the Financial District, including cycling patterns and blind spots—Mesh appeared beside him, amber-trailed skates shimmering as they carried her to a perfect stop.

  "Not bad for a rookie," she said, voice carrying an undercurrent of surprise. "You've got natural line selection."

  Before he could respond, she jumped from the platform, flame-like trails briefly illuminating the darkness below. Line selection, another term to research later.

  He followed, using his skates' thrust vectoring system to control his descent. Packet and Zigzag were close behind, faces tight with the realization that both Kai and the Slipstreams had found a shortcut they'd missed.

  "The wall trick was new," Packet commented as they landed, regrouping momentarily before the next sprint. "Vex only reveals exploits when he's making a point."

  Message clear: Vex was demonstrating his superior knowledge of the grid. Kai nodded once, acknowledging the warning without conceding defeat. Still in the race.

  The race intensified as they approached the second checkpoint. This one positioned in a public plaza's center—high-visibility location requiring subtlety to access without drawing attention from normal users.

  The Slipstreams split up, taking different approach vectors to mask their true objective. He watched carefully, noting how their seemingly casual movements through the crowd concealed coordinated approach to the checkpoint.

  He couldn't help appreciating their strategy—hiding in plain sight, a tactic he'd used during bike messenger days. He considered options, reluctant to follow directly and reveal himself as a novice.

  Different tactic then. He activated a flux line curving high above the plaza along a maintenance catwalk. The path would be longer but would keep him out of visual range of security cameras positioned throughout the public space.

  As he grinded along the catwalk, his movements flowed more naturally. The connection between intention and execution tightened, neural commands translating to movement with less lag than before. His skates responded as natural leg extensions, power cores pulsing in rhythm with his energy output.

  Everything clicked into place, more alive than since uploading. This wasn't just about racing anymore—but belonging, finding his place in Server Nova's complex ecosystem.

  The catwalk ended abruptly, forcing a jump across a significant gap to reach the next section. He launched forward, trusting momentum and thrust systems. For a heartbeat, suspended in space, the plaza stretching below like a digital sea.

  The world slowed as his perception shifted, environmental details sharpening to crystal clarity. He could see individual users moving below, rotation patterns of security cameras, even subtle distortions in rendering quality between primary and secondary grid structures.

  His vision tunneled, a flood of enhanced awareness unlike anything before.

  [Perception temporarily enhanced: Environmental analysis active]

  His feet connected with the opposite catwalk, a perfect landing that barely registered impact. No wasted energy, no lost momentum. He continued without breaking stride, skating toward the checkpoint with newfound confidence.

  He reached the second checkpoint just as Vex was leaving it, their eyes meeting in a moment of assessment. Vex's expression shifted—recalibration from dismissal to mild interest. Not being taken seriously yet, but noticed.

  Satisfaction warmed his chest. Not just a lucky fluke anymore.

  "Amateur hour," Vex muttered, loud enough for Kai to hear before accelerating away.

  He bit back a retort. No sense antagonizing someone who could still very much leave him eating digital dust, but the day would come when Vex would eat those words.

  Kai touched the checkpoint, absorbing the second data fragment—details on automated security response protocols, including timing and deployment patterns. Valuable information, both for the race and future courier work.

  The third checkpoint presented the greatest challenge yet—positioned on a commercial tower's exterior with minimal handholds and constant security drone patrols. The approach would require perfect timing and execution.

  His eyes narrowed in concentration, recognizing the true test of courier skill. This checkpoint would separate real couriers from wannabes. He studied the tower's scanning patterns, identifying a three-second window in the rotation cycle.

  Below him, Zigzag attempted a direct approach, triggering a proximity alarm that forced him to detour around the building's perimeter.

  "Watch the threshold sensors," Mesh advised over the channel. "They've recalibrated since last week's race. Tighter tolerances."

  Packet, already halfway up the tower's eastern face, acknowledged with a staccato click—courier shorthand for received and understood.

  Kai built momentum along a flux line, then launched himself at the building's fa?ade. His skates connected with the vertical surface, magnetics engaging instantly.

  The world tilted as he began his ascent, gravity becoming just another variable to manipulate. A spark of wonder lit his eyes, still marveling at how natural the impossible movement felt. He moved in rapid bursts between scanner sweeps, freezing in position during active monitoring phases.

  Halfway up, he spotted Zigzag attempting the same climb on the opposite side. The skater missed his timing, continuing movement during an active scan. Immediately, a security alert pulsed through the area.

  [SECURITY ALERT: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED]

  [Security Response Dispatched]

  Teeth clenched, silent curse forming. Zigzag's mistake threatened to cascade into disaster for all of them.

  Drones detached from docking stations, converging on the flagged position. Zigzag cursed audibly over the shared race channel, then disappeared from the tower face—a brief flash marking emergency bailout device use.

  "Zigzag's out," Packet confirmed through the channel. "System shock from security contact, minor avatar damage. He's bailed back to the safe zone."

  One down already, with security response only beginning to mobilize. From his physical courier days, he knew how quickly situations cascaded from bad to worse when authorities became involved.

  The security alert spread like wildfire across the tower's systems. Warning lights pulsed in aggressive patterns as additional drones launched from docks. Scan patterns accelerated, detection fields sweeping across surfaces with increasing frequency.

  He found himself trapped halfway up the tower face, pinned between two rapidly approaching scan fields. Movement meant certain detection. Staying put meant being caught between converging security measures.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead as he concentrated. There had to be a solution. In his courier experience, there was always a way through if you looked hard enough. He scanned the approaching threats, searching for patterns, for weaknesses in system architecture.

  Three seconds to impact.

  The primary scan field advanced from below, detection parameters visibly intensifying as it locked onto Zigzag's flagged area.

  Two seconds.

  A secondary field descended from above, pattern calibrated to catch anyone evading the primary sweep.

  His breathing slowed, focus sharpening. System architecture always had patterns, always contained imperfections. The key was finding the seam, the weakness where reality didn't quite align.

  One second.

  His eyes darted back and forth, analyzing the converging threat. No conventional escape route, no obvious solution. The detection fields would reach his position simultaneously from opposite directions.

  The scan fields closed in, energy signatures pulsing at the edge of his perception.

  His muscles tensed, ready to attempt the impossible.

  Zero.