(BOG LORE) 'SECONDS' - CHAPTER 2 - BOXED IN!
The road moved at breakneck speed, lines blurring. The Selector had found his rhythm. He rode the knee, leaning in and out of each chicane, balancing with his leg, then forward again into another sprint. The beats thudded in the background, restoring his concentration, but quietly enough so he could hear T he Gate riders. Distorted, harsh, aggressive, uncompromising—and fueling the energy inside him. The fiery bass—a switch had been flicked, just like a chop and start in a mix. The process was centering his mind on the cause: 1 Defend the vulnerable 2 Protect the tribes 3 Smash The Gate The Selector was fired up. The road ahead dipped into a gradient. The Selector dipped his head, rode straight into it, his balance near perfect. No racing aids. Just pure grit, willpower, and a raging engine spitting out gas. Six seconds, seven, eight, ten . The distance between him and The Gate riders was increasing. The thunder booms rang out. The hover bikes were in pursuit. The Selector smi...