Chapter 328: The race 1

Chapter 328: The race 1

Noah stepped back through the portal into his quarters, feeling the familiar disorientation of crossing between dimensions. Storm’s enthusiastic response still echoed in his mind—the wyvern was definitely ready for some action.

A quick check of his phone showed he still had about an hour before the scheduled race time. Plenty of opportunity to see what kind of scientific circus Kelvin and Lyra had managed to create in his absence.

The walk to the training complex took him through the base’s main corridors, where the weekend atmosphere was in full swing. Personnel moved with less urgency, conversations were louder, and there was an unmistakable buzz of anticipation in the air. Word had apparently gotten around about the afternoon’s entertainment.

“Eclipse!” someone called out as he passed a group of recruits. “Is it true you’re racing a dragon?”

Noah offered a noncommittal wave and kept walking, already feeling the familiar discomfort of being the center of attention. Being the only SSS-ranked soldier on the station—hell, the second in all of humanity—meant privacy was a luxury he rarely enjoyed.

The training complex’s speed track was located in one of the station’s largest hangar bays, a cavernous space normally reserved for shuttle operations and heavy equipment storage. As Noah approached, he could hear voices echoing off the high ceiling and the distinctive hum of sophisticated monitoring equipment.

What he found when he rounded the corner made him stop and stare.

Kelvin and Lyra had transformed the space into something that belonged in a professional racing facility. The original speed track—a simple oval designed for basic velocity testing—had been expanded into a massive circuit that stretched nearly the entire length of the hangar bay. The track itself had to be at least three miles long, with sweeping curves, elevation changes, and what looked like several technical sections designed to test agility as well as raw speed.

But it was the monitoring setup that truly showcased their combined genius. Arrays of sensors lined the track at regular intervals, their crystalline surfaces gleaming under the hangar’s lights. Holographic displays showed real-time telemetry readings, wind speed calculations, and trajectory analysis that would make a fighter pilot jealous. Kelvin had even managed to acquire several aerial drones that hovered at strategic points around the circuit, their cameras ready to capture every angle of the upcoming race.

“Holy shit,” Noah muttered, genuinely impressed despite himself.

“Language, soldier,” came a familiar voice from behind him.

Noah turned to find Lieutenant Commander Mei Lin approaching. He has only interacted with her once during the orientation talk when they first landed on the station.

But now something was different about her. Her usually shy demeanor replaced by obvious curiosity. The petite woman was flanked by a small group of base personnel, including several he recognized from the command staff.

“Ma’am,” Noah said, offering a respectful nod. “I didn’t realize this had gotten official attention.”

Lieutenant Commander Lin’s smile was small but genuine. “When your team member, Pithon , more than eagerly submitted a request for ‘comprehensive analysis of non-standard combat assets in controlled racing conditions,’ it caught our attention.” Her eyes sparkled with something that might have been amusement. “The fact that said assets include what our intelligence files classify as a Category Unknown aerial combatant made it impossible to ignore.”

“Category Unknown?” Noah raised an eyebrow.

“Our classification system tops out at Category 5,” she explained. “Your…dragon, I believe, Storm’s energy readings during your previous deployments according to the report we got from your commanding officer on earth, Seraphina Brooks have been… difficult to quantify. Our sensors aren’t calibrated for whatever he is.”

That was both fascinating and slightly concerning. Noah made a mental note to ask his system about power classifications later.

“So this is sanctioned?” he asked.

“Enthusiastically,” Lin replied. “It’s rare that we get the opportunity to study abilities like yours in a controlled environment. Usually, we only see you in action during crisis situations where detailed analysis takes a backseat to survival.”

She gestured toward the elaborate setup Kelvin and Lyra had created. “This gives us a chance to gather comprehensive data without making you feel like a laboratory specimen. Win-win for everyone involved.”

Noah had to admit the logic was sound. And it explained why his teammates had been given access to equipment that was definitely above their pay grade.

“Noah!” Kelvin’s voice boomed across the hangar as he spotted Noah. “Perfect timing! Come check out what we’ve built!”

Noah made his way over to where Kelvin and Lyra were huddled around a central control station that looked like it belonged on the bridge of a starship. Screens displayed everything from atmospheric conditions to structural stress analysis of the track itself.

“This is insane,” Noah said, gesturing at the massive circuit. “How did you even manage this?”

“Turns out ‘scientific analysis of SSS-ranked abilities’ opens a lot of doors,” Lyra replied with a grin. “Plus, Kelvin convinced them that studying Storm’s flight characteristics could provide valuable tactical intelligence for future operations.”

“Which it absolutely will,” Kelvin added enthusiastically. “Look at this track design—we’ve got straightaways for pure speed analysis, technical sections for agility testing, and elevation changes to study how Storm handles three-dimensional movement patterns. It’s beautiful!”

The track really was impressive. The main straight stretched for nearly a mile, perfect for top-speed runs. But the rest of the circuit was a complex maze of curves, chicanes, and elevation changes that would challenge both pilot skill and aircraft capabilities. Several sections actually rose above the hangar floor on elevated platforms, creating a true three-dimensional racing experience.

“How long is it total?” Noah asked.

“Three point seven miles,” Lyra replied proudly. “With a total elevation change of about four hundred feet. The longest single straight is fourteen hundred meters, which should give us excellent data on acceleration curves and maximum velocity.”

“Speaking of which,” came another voice, “we needed to establish a baseline for comparison.”

Noah turned to see Lieutenant Commander Lin approaching with what appeared to be a medical evacuation craft—a sleek, purpose-built vehicle designed for rapid deployment to combat zones. The craft was about the size of a small shuttle, with angular lines and powerful engines that marked it as military hardware.

“A baseline?” Noah asked.

“We had the MedEvac run the circuit,” Lin explained. “Full combat configuration, experienced pilot, optimal conditions. It posted a time of four minutes, thirty-seven seconds.”

Kelvin’s grin was borderline maniacal. “Which means we have an official record to beat.”

“You think Storm can do better than a military craft?” Noah asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“I think Storm is going to make that MedEvac look like it’s flying backwards,” Kelvin replied confidently.

A crowd had begun to gather around the edges of the hangar. Noah recognized faces from various departments—other recruits, instructors, support staff, and what appeared to be half the base’s off-duty personnel. Word had definitely gotten around about the afternoon’s entertainment.

The attention made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t deny a certain satisfaction at the level of interest. Six months ago, he’d been nobody special. Now people were rearranging their weekend plans to watch him race.

Not everyone seemed thrilled about the situation, though. Noah caught fragments of conversation from a group of recruits near the entrance.

“—preferential treatment again—”

“—SSS ranking gets you everything, apparently—”

“—his whole team gets the best missions while we’re stuck with training exercises—”

But those complaints were quickly countered by others in the crowd.

“Are you kidding? They’ve faced Harbingers twice already. Twice! When’s the last time any of us even saw real combat?”

“Plus they stopped that terrorist thing during the tournament. You know, the one that could have killed hundreds of thousands of people?”

“Maybe if you could summon dragons, you’d get preferential treatment too.”

Noah tried to ignore the debate, focusing instead on the technical preparations. Lucas had arrived and was going through what appeared to be pre-flight stretches, his usual cocky grin firmly in place. The lightning wielder was clearly looking forward to the competition.

“Nervous?” Lucas asked as he approached.

“Should I be?” Noah replied.

“Probably,” Lucas admitted cheerfully. “I’ve been thinking about this all morning. I’ve got some new techniques I’ve been working on, and I’m pretty sure I can hit speeds that’ll surprise you.”

“Just remember, you’re not just racing me,” Noah pointed out.

Lucas’s grin widened. “That’s the best part. Win or lose, this is going to be legendary.”

Lieutenant Commander Lin checked her watch and moved to address the growing crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be beginning in approximately ten minutes. All personnel not directly involved in the race should move to the designated observation areas.”

The crowd shifted accordingly, settling into bleacher-style seating that had been set up along one side of the hangar. The buzz of conversation grew louder as people found their spots and began placing what were undoubtedly unofficial bets on the outcome.

Noah felt the familiar pre-competition flutter in his stomach. It wasn’t fear, exactly, but anticipation mixed with the weight of expectation. Everyone was here to see what the station’s only SSS-ranked soldier could really do.

Time to find out if Storm was ready to put on a show.

“Alright,” Noah said, moving to the starting line where Lucas was already waiting. “Let’s see what happens when dragons race humans.”

The crowd fell silent as Lieutenant Commander Lin raised her hand, the signal for the race to begin. But first, Noah had a call to make.

He looked up at the hangar’s vast ceiling, took a deep breath, and spoke the words that would bring his companion into the physical world.

“Storm Fall,”

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