Hiiragi--39-s Practice Diary -final- -k-drive-- -

Silence.

She didn’t stop.

The AI, which she’d programmed years ago with a voice chip from a broken toy, responded in its childish, crackling tone: “You got this, Hiiragi. Let’s fly.” Hiiragi--39-s Practice Diary -Final- -K-DRIVE--

“One last ride,” she whispered.

She burst out of the shaft’s exit at an angle that should have been impossible, the K-DRIVE skidding sideways across the polished marble floor of the abandoned lobby. Sparks flew. The smell of burnt rubber and ozone filled the air. Then, with a final, gentle shudder, the bike came to a stop exactly on the painted X. Silence

Hiiragi sat there for a long moment, breathing hard. Then she dismounted, legs trembling, and looked back at the shaft. Nine hundred meters of impossible turns. And she’d conquered every one. Let’s fly