King of Monkarts (OC insert)

The Queen of Reflower Town

Seven years. The phrase echoed in Silver's mind like a hollow drum beat as he approached the stadium. In the grand scheme of things, a mere blip. But in the frantic, fleeting world of human experience, it felt like an eternity.

Ellie. What had happened to her? The vibrant, ambitious girl he knew wouldn't settle for a title as flimsy as "Queen of Reflower Town." She craved something grander, a title etched not in fleeting popularity but in hard-won victory.

The stadium loomed ahead, its once-gleaming white paint now a canvas of faded glory, chipped and weathered by the relentless ocean breeze. Empty seats stretched in row after row, a stark contrast to the electric energy that thrummed through them on race day. Silver released a ragged breath, the salty air stinging his eyes.

"Perfect weather for a race," he muttered, his voice swallowed by the vast emptiness.

Lyca, sensing his turmoil, let out a low, mournful howl, a sound that resonated with Silver's own disquiet.

"Queen of Reflower Town," he scoffed, the words acrid on his tongue.

The Ellie he knew wouldn't have stooped to such a pedestrian title. Bibi? No, that couldn't be it. The boy reeked of ambition himself, a cheap cologne masking a yearning for something more. So what was it, then? Was he overthinking this? Maybe Ellie simply craved the comfort of familiarity, the embrace of her hometown.

"What do you think, buddy?" Silver asked, reaching down to scratch Lyca behind the massive, luminous eyes.

The monstrous canine tilted its head, a gesture both regal and endearing. Silver chuckled, the sound hollow in the vast emptiness.

"Might as well get some practice in," he decided aloud.

Stretching his stiff muscles, he knelt on the sand, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore a calming counterpoint to the storm brewing within him. He felt a surge of competitiveness, a primal need to stay sharp, to be the best.

"Ready?" he asked Lyca, his voice firm.

The wolfdog's tail whipped back and forth in a flurry of fur, a silent, enthusiastic roar. With a burst of adrenaline, they launched into a sprint. The sand flew beneath their feet, the wind whipping Silver's hair into a frenzy. He needed to push himself, to feel the rush of the race, the exhilarating dance with danger.

"Monkart, Trek On!" he shouted, his voice merging with the roar of the ocean.

Lyca surged with energy, a blinding flash erupting from his form. In its wake, the sleek chrome lines of the Monkart materialized, its powerful engine purring to life. Silver leaped onto the platform, his chrome armor plating him in a familiar embrace. Lyca's immense size allowed Silver to ride alongside him, their combined weight a force to be reckoned with.

"Let's do this, boy," Silver murmured, remembering their countless hours of practice. "Stone Edge!"

His hand formed a precise X in front of him, and with a deep rumble, the earth responded. Three diamond-shaped rocks erupted from the sand, launching skyward before fusing into a ramp of shimmering blue energy.

"Full speed ahead!" Silver roared, his hand forming a V shape.

Lyca surged forward, the Monkart catapulting them with breathtaking force. They sailed through the air, the roar of the engine a mechanical symphony against the ocean's relentless song.

And then, with a bone-jarring thud, they landed squarely in the middle of the deserted bleachers. A plume of sand billowed around them, momentarily obscuring their vision.

Silver chuckled a genuine sound this time. Even after all these years, the thrill of the race never diminished. Here, in the quiet embrace of the stadium, he could almost pretend it was still them – just Ellie and him, pushing their limits, chasing a dream as boundless as the sky above.