An arm's length. That was the distance between him and his gun, between him and the screeching hobbler squirming against the weapon with all its might.

Moments ago, he had believed the creature to be a ticket to a better life. The reality of what constituted as a better life had changed drastically. He eyed the masked coppers, their loaded guns ready to shoot if he resisted arrest. Death was a possible outcome. So was Soulgrave Penitentiary, more a slaughterhouse than a prison tower, where the most likely way out was in a body bag.

That never! He would rather die in battle.

Two souls could be saved tonight. Both he and the hobbler needed a few clicks to turn the odds in their favour, to have a fighting chance out of this hopeless mess.

 A grin tugged at the corners of Nio's mouth. The odds were not entirely against him. Half a dozen coppers in a small, dark establishment, the floor covered with half-unconscious civilians whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The House of Hope was finally living up to its name.

Even though Nio had no idea how he was going to pull off this stunt, he was confident that he would. His best plans formed as he executed them. When his actions were faster than his thoughts; that was when he thrived. Thinking led to hesitating, to mistakes, and to the precarious situation he found himself in.

Chaos mode engaged in three... two... one...

Nio lunged sideways and grabbed his old weapon by the barrel. He banged the grip against the bartender's cheek. The sickening crunch made her howl in pain. No mercy—she was as much a copper as the rest of them.

She dropped the transformed screwdriver. Bang!

The trigger had landed on the edge of the counter. Nio dodged as the bullet whirred by, spinning his gun around his finger, his gaze fixated on the hobbler taking flight, bag and all.

"Agent Nara is down," said the head copper, her voice commandig. "Target is armed."

"Permission to shoot?" asked another copper.

Nio didn't wait for the answer. After the first shot had been fired, any chance of escaping peacefully was out of the question. He leapt up and clicked his heels together. Aided by the tiny steam engine hidden in the sole of his boots, he thrust upwards and soared towards the hobbler fluttering around in its canvas prison.

Bang! Bang! Bang! 

One by one, the bullets missed him.

His nails clawing at the canvas, he seized the bag.

The creature's screech rose to newer heights as Nio's weight yanked the hobbler down. 

This wasn't a problem; this was an opportunity. The two masked coppers darting towards him flew backwards as Nio kicked them hard in the head.

Releasing the bag, he landed on both feet.

The hobbler emerged, fluorescent blue and sparkling, like an electric generator about to explode. Its wail was agonisingly sharp.

The coppers covered their ears, but Nio soldiered through the pain. Chasing the spirit, he ran and jumped over the spectre-like clients, knocking over tables and dreampowder pipes. Smoke oozed from the stem and filled the room.

Nio turned sharply, his fist clenched and raised. Smack—right in the face. Another copper down.

When Nio looked up, the hobbler had vanished into the fog.

Thump! A bullet hit his heel, and sparks flew as metal crashed against metal. Gone was the booster of his left foot.

He limped, trying to locate the wail of the hobbler, but one of the coppers was coming for him. Balls, time was not on his side!

He reached for a table and threw it at the copper, pipe and drink included.

"My eyes—it got into my eyes!" the man behind the mask screamed.

The leader of the coppers yelled, "Leave agent Yuri—get him!"

Three against one. 

A blue light flickered in the corner of Nio's eye.

He had to act now. Hurling his gun at the masks, he ran like he had never run before, ducking and weaving from grubby black-gloved hands and clients floating between waking and an ecstatic sleep. To them, this would all be part of their chemically induced dream.

As if the real world wasn't exciting enough.

Nio ground his teeth as he clambered the stairs, the heel of his left foot throbbing. He had to carry on. The hobbler's screech grew fainter and fainter with each step. Freedom—he was almost there. The otherwise pungent streetlight gas smelled divine.

He climbed out of the belly of the beast, panting hard, a rush of euphoria coursing through his veins. The spirit had already been reduced to a twinkle in the sky, a memory of hope and dreams, a residue of a false opportunity. Good—at least one of them had found freedom.

The lamps cast a whitish-green light on the deserted street. Behind him, footsteps followed in pursuit. Guns were loaded once more.

Nio went left, quickening his pace but not running. Going right would lead him back to the cave of the Clan of the Sugarpaw. If they didn't kill him for bringing coppers to their terrain, they would no doubt banish him for answering a call without the permission of Ru, his ringleader.

Nio darted down into a dark alley. Though he knew it would lead to a dead end, there was a pile of overflowing trashcans stacked up against the tall wall. He hopped onto the cans, stepping into a mud-like mush (that surely wasn't mud) and fragments of a half-eaten, now rotting, flapwing.

He heaved himself onto the next lidless can. Crouching, he kept himself low as he balanced on his right foot.

He leapt up, catapulting himself into the air as he launched the remaining booster. Mid-flight, he rolled over and hooked his leg over the edge of the wall.

"There he is—shoot him!"

Nio laughed, leaning sideways. Those suckers had found him, but they were too late.

When their bullets struck the wall, he was already falling down. 

Bracing himself for impact, he curled into a ball and tumbled over the cobblestones. Still, he hit the ground with a hard thud.

He allowed himself a few moments to catch his breath. The big smile on his face faded quickly as the impact of his stupidity dawned on him. Answering a call without informing Ru, without informing anyone within the clan. Of course, this had been a set-up. No longer a cub but a man eager to prove himself, the coppers must have considered him an easy target, a simple way to reach their monthly quota. He might as well have walked into their base with outstretched hands, or knocked on the iron gate of Soulgrave Penitentiary. How was he going to talk himself out of this?

The shooting stopped.

Nio stood up and began to walk, his left foot sore and protesting with each step. Tomorrow he could whine and complain, but tonight he had to bite through the pain and get back to the base without being seen.

He went over his options as happy fiddles played in the distance, the music inviting but dangerous. He couldn't go there; every establishment on this side of town belonged to the Clan of the Moonhowler. They would kill him before the coppers, and more efficiently too.

Nor would he be able to hide for long in this labyrinth of shady back alleys and narrow streets. Even if he managed to outrun his pursuers, additional patrols of coppers would easily block every route and send great slobbermouths to catch him. He may be quick, but he wouldn't be able to outrun those paws of fury. No human could. And his boosters were too broken to be of any help.

He turned the corner, away from the gaslight, and walked into the relative safety of darkness. People passed him by, but the shadows protected him from being seen, from being recognised. The long street would lead him to the edge of Crookbeak territory. Then up the mountains, and back the long way round to the clan's cave. 

But the coppers would know that too.

A high huffing, almost whistling noise snapped him from his thoughts. As if by instinct, he reached for the gun in his belt. When he found nothing, he remembered he had thrown it at the coppers. Balls!

The sound was constant buzzing that grew louder with each step. Too many rates per click to be the engine of a steam car, but it couldn't be anything else either.

Nio stopped in his track, his mouth wide open from the shock. 

What he saw there, abandoned in a vacant lot between trash cans and decades-old debris, was not just a car but the sheer definition of elegance and speed. It had been upgraded with large alloy wheels and tires with a deep thread, like a warrior princess ready for battle but left behind in a forgotten tower by misogynistic men.

The black cross-like emblem on the hood could only mean one thing: this was a Queen's Egg—one of the fastest, if not the fastest, cars on the continent. 

He looked around, pricking up his ears. No sound but the humming. Not a trace of the careless owner who had left this piece of treasure with the engine running.

Nio did what every person in his position would do. He wrenched the door open and threw himself into the driver's seat. His fingers danced over the steering wheel, his feet already one with the pedals.

He stomped the throttle hard, and the car shot forward, tires squealing as he took a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding a few bags of unidentifiable trash. 

Within heartbeats, the world around him turned into a smudged mess of moonlight and motion. His hair flapped around wildly. From zero to a storm in three clicks.

He raced out of Moonhowler territory and onto the Ring around Oa City. During the morning and evening rush, the two-lane road was a place to avoid. Too many crashes and panicked moves from idiots who had bought a steam car to impress their partner, friend, or fiercest enemy, but couldn't drive to save their life.

Tonight, the road belonged to him and pure perfection. Two hurricanes... Three hurricanes... The speedometer went as far as six hurricanes.

The sheer power of the car made him howl in delight. At this pace, most cars Nio had driven would start to shake and rattle, but not this one. He was going four hurricanes per coo, but he might as well be sitting in an armchair, watching life pass him by like in a dream.

But this wasn't a dream. A faint siren brought him back to reality.

His pursuers were onto him.

He pressed his foot even more down. Speed was his only advantage; the coppers wouldn't stop until they got him, and there were many of them. The faster he could get out of here, the better. Out of the city, up the mountain, back into Vale. Or onto an airship to Romagnia. Anywhere was better than out in the open in the veins connected to the beating heart of Oa City.

The sheer force of the wind hitting his face made his eyes water. One hand on the wheel, he slipped his goggles over his eyes.

The needle was hovering close to four and a half hurricanes when a shadow appeared in the distance, a slower vehicle.

Nio slammed the brakes. He jerked forward, his chest hitting the steering wheel as a squealing engine brought the speed back to half a hurricane. He swerved past the slow-moving rickshaw, catching a fraction of the driver cursing him to the edge of the world.

Without looking back, he stepped on the throttle once more. No skid or wobble or unexpected weave, but a clean acceleration. 

He surged forward, the engine rumbling enthusiastically. The gauges and dials on the dashboard pointing closer to zero than to the red warning zone told him to push harder. The streets were his now. He would show those coppers not to mess with Nio Barn.

Unfortunately, the whining sound of sirens grew louder and more frantic. He passed a flashing blue smudge driving onto the Ring.

More would be waiting at the next junction.

The real game had begun.

He lifted his foot, letting the coppers believe he either had a problem or would surrender. As if...

He steered to the right and slowed further until there were but two car lengths between him and his closest pursuer.

The exit loomed up at him. He kept going and going. And then... Bam! He stood on the brakes, violently turning left, and then he pounded the acceleration once more. The wheels screeched; the engine purred.

He drifted away from the coppers taking his bait; they had taken the exit.

Up ahead, the road led to a tunnel, the only place on the Ring of Oa City not lit up by gas lights. As he entered the endless darkness stretching out in front of him at the speed of four hurricanes, the roar of the Queen's Egg reverberated off the walls, an amplified echo that vibrated through his body. He fumbled around the steering wheel, then flipped the only switch he could find. A pair of bright lamps cast a radiant beam in front of him, illuminating the green-covered walls and dripping ceiling.

He kept his finger hovering above the switch. While he could see where he was going, others would be able to see him coming more easily. His light wasn't the only one. Bright blue flares awaited him at the end of the tunnel.

Before gripping the steering wheel tight, he dimmed his lights. A group of copper cars were waiting for him at the intersection. They had blocked the road ahead and to the right.

Left would take him to the river, away from the city.

His heart pounded in his chest. Over the bridge, then into the harbour. He would find a boat or an airship out of the country. They would never get him.

He approached the rusty iron construction spanning the water when he heard a loud clunk. His speed dropped. The car—no, not the car—the ground was shaking. The bridge was rising!

Without hesitation, Nio floored the pedal and aimed his queen of perfection straight for the rapidly narrowing gap. Time seemed to stand still as the car hurtled forward, wind whipping through his hair as he soared over the turbulent, rushing water. 

He gritted his teeth, bracing himself for the jolt of impact. Luckily, there was no crunch or scraping of metal against the pavement.

The bridge clanged shut behind him, the feeling so satisfying that he let out a whoop of triumph. 

"You're a true Speed Queen!" he shouted at the car. "Magnificent beauty."

He cruised down the long, winding road, drumming on the steering wheel. For as long as it lasted, he and the Queen's Egg were going to have so much fun. They would cross the continent, earning money by stealing it from the pockets of eager on-lookers. He could do shows; then drive away before people found out they had been robbed. He could...

What was that up ahead?

Flashing lights in the distance created a dazzling display of blue and white. He slowed down. Round the corner, a massive barricade of coppers and their cars blocked the road. Great slobbermouths as tall as sugarpaws growled at him, their long teeth bare and vicious, their sharp nails glistening like razor blades.

Nio glanced at the landscape of towering buildings and gated warehouses, then at the army of armed coppers and slobbermouths. 

Trapped. Boxed in. No escape.

Balls! He had been beaten. 

Slowly, he brought the Queen's Egg to a complete standstill. He took a few deep breaths, bracing himself for what was going to happen next.

A one-way trip to Soulgrave Penitentiary.