The Bellators

3:5:5

 At high speed, the matte black pod races past dark city buildings with traditional rectangular shapes, all under the dark black sky cloudy which hides the sights of space as instead only the soulless abyss looms above. The buildings it passes don't appear to be the same smooth silver beauties of the metropolis but rather are grimy and made of a more concrete-esc material devoid of charm. Those buildings are hard to focus on however due to the speed of the pod as it speeds down blocks in seconds, passing other pods which have lighter colored bodies with more rigid shapes closer to rectangles rather than smooth curves that the black pod racing past exhibits.

Same color as the gloomy atmosphere, the pod's engine roars as it bolts through the air, as while at first it appears that there is no present danger, its hasty movements assume otherwise as it's clearly not moving at the same speed as the others in the light traffic.

That is then explained when only a few seconds later when the pod suddenly strafes to the right lane, shifting to the side right before a barrage of radiating orange bolts fly right beside it, narrowly missing its matte black body as it is sprayed through where the pod had been only a second ago. Around, several of the pods lean outward and turn on intersections, dispersing like a flock of birds after being subjected to a quake.

Again the pod strafes, this time back to the left, avoiding another burst of orange bolts that follow the ring of gunfire from behind. After the burst passes, the pod returns to the right, weaving constantly as there are still more pods on the road ahead which it has to maneuver through, trying not to collide with any while keeping adequate speed.

Soaring through the air behind the black pod, a crowd of about five other pods race close behind seemingly in pursuit. Every pod is designed exactly the same which bunches them together as they race past other lighter pods which swerve out of the way upon their introductions, clearly threatened by the cluster.

While the pods are also black, their bodies are glossy and are far more geometric with more traditional rectangular shapes, giving the pods more of a boxy design that'd have been in fashion little less than a millenia ago.

Along the outer walls of the chasing pods, the areas where the windows would be located have been hollowed out to create apertures even in flight, and sticking out of those apertures are men dressed in formal buttoned up suits with black blazers but no ties wearing black fedoras on their heads in an outfit resembling that for a mafia from a century less than a millenia ago. With youthful and seemingly innocent faces, they stare down the sightlines of the firearms they tightly grip both handles of–on each side of the wide circular disk shaped as a magazine– aiming ahead. Given the weapon's stock and handles which appear wooden with the rest of the body metallic black, the weapon has an intimate uncanny resemblance to a tommy gun.

Sticking out from the front passenger seat and back seats, the men continue to tap on their triggers, firing bursts of orange bolts at the matte black pod they're hunting down.

While most of the pods trail right behind their target, one of them veers to the left and accelerates faster in an attempt to flank the sleek pod ahead.

Inside that sleek pod, the driver glares with sharp blue eyes ahead while beside him the front passenger keeps her head facing back, viewing the window next to her. Behind both of them, the two passengers in the back bench are also glued to the windows in anticipation, all on edge as they observe the orange bursts fly past them.

In fact, the only one inside the pod who isn't facing back is the driver himself, whose expression is also the only one that doesn't expose anxiety but rather is coated stern in determination, his hands by his side as he drives the pod through his mind, making it strafe from side to side every several seconds to evade another burst of fire.