My wings were tall and wide, each about the size of my own wingspan. In terms of design, they weren’t anything special.

  But they got the job done.

  They were flexible and could fold into me, while also being durable enough to hold me up. They could also dampen the noise of the fans pretty substantially. The fans were sort of ancient technology, at least by tinker terms. They've been taken off of a couple of drones designed for dangerous weather delivery. I had altered them and dressed them up pretty nicely but they were still stiff pieces of machinery that limited my maneuverability in a lot of ways.

  Still, reliable was better than fancy.

  The suit itself had multiple combat abilities. First there were the ray guns, bullets, and small missiles tucked away at almost every joint. Second there was the enhanced physical strength the suit gave me, even if it was clunky to maneuver. And third, of course, was the beak which housed a special sonic weapon that could burst eardrums and shattered glass.

  In terms of protection, I had a closed breathing system for altitude flights and a waterproof thermal undersuit. But that was more for stormy nights and less for underwater action. Though I could use it for that if need be. And the suit was bulletproof, raygun proof, and could take a good amount of damage before breaking. That was important.

  Then there were the drones. They were fast, zipping combat drones. They could shoot bullets, monitor places, and produce a minor sonic attack of their own.

  Then there were talons on both my hands and feet. They were detachable and made it almost impossible to walk or grab things regularly, which was fine because I hated walking in the suit anyways.

  There was also the general color changing pallet. It wasn’t invisibility, but I would go unnoticed in the night and would blend in with the sky pretty well most days.

  Overall, it was a nice set up, but I heavily relied on gathering intel and not combat. And the plan was to change that.

  I reached into my jacket, opened my mouth and threw in some pills. I took a swig of orange juice and washed them down.

  I was looking through the schematics from Tux and they really were some interesting things.

  Through my glasses, holograms hovered displaying numerous parts of the suit.

  Mochi was on the couch, earnestly watching cars go round on the TV.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer yelled. “We are looking at the final qualifying rounds for this year’s Spin Circuit! DoomVroom and Speed Madness have both been eliminated via the last two rounds. This final match up between Motor Maniac and INOS will start in just five minutes! Don’t leave those seats for too long and make sure to use the bathroom because you wouldn’t want to miss this for a Major A fight!”

  The crowd on the screen jeered in agreement and Mochi howled at the screen.

  I shut down the diagram and stared at the big screen.

  Cars were the one thing I really enjoyed. I liked books here and there, fantasy mostly. But everything I enjoyed had been handed down to me by my grandpa. He had read me Lord of The Rings when I was little and he’d made me learn about cars as soon as I could hold a wrench. Those two things meant a lot to me, and Mochi shared that interest.

  “Motor Maniac is going to wipe the floor with that loser,” Mochi howled.

  “Maybe,” I replied. “But INOS is known for his tricks.”

  “Nuh-uh Motor Maniac is gonna lap him and his dumb name.”

  “It’s an acronym.”

  “Names shouldn’t be that long Burt! In Need Of Speed? That’s just obnoxious.”

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  “He was third in last year's Spin Circuit.”

  “That’s because Motor crashed hard, if it wasn’t for the oil slip trick, he would have taken his spot! No! He would have gone higher!”

  I laughed and kept on watching. It wasn’t worth the argument.

  The Spin Circuit was one of the byproducts of a tinker filled society. Wishers could fill many niches, from physical labors to inventors, but one thing we had entirely taken from the normal market was completion of any sort.

  Sports, races, anything skill based was quickly overwhelmed by wishers. Why look at two regular people fighting when you could watch two people with super strength punch each other into the stars? Why watch a regular footrace when you could watch speedsters cut through the planet's deadliest terrains in a matter of hours?

  The Spin was that, but for cars and robot fighting.

  There were regulations on the car having to be car shaped and of certain mass, but aside from that and a strict monitoring of the onboard weapons, it was a free for all.

  The Spin Circuit, the final one, would feature sixteen racers racing down a two hundred mile road at about five hundred miles per hour. The road was built specifically for the Spin and it was moved to a new city every year.

  This year, it would be in Oak City and Mochi and I were planning on attending. The start and end point of the race were at the same spot and that was where the live viewers would sit and watch the rest of the race on a big screen.

  The road itself was twisting and turning and littered with traps designed to slow down or stop the riders, then there were the riders themselves who could interfere with each other once they were on the open road.

  It was all a test of engineering, problem solving, hand eye coordination, and power.

  The tech was limited, the budget per car was controlled as were the weapons on the car, and everything that could be done to make it fair was done.

  “Gentlemen!” The announcer began. “Rev up, hold steady and…. GOOOOOOOO!”

  Mochi howled as the two cars tore off the pavement with considerable speed.

  This wasn’t the true Circuit, just the qualifiers that had been running for the last six months, but still, this was a huge part of the appeal.

  The cars ripped off the pavement, nearly flying off the earth with how fast they were going.

  There were multiple things that went into a Spin. The first was speed and G-Force, their bodies had to be trained to take on that much acceleration at once.

  The second was fuel and acceleration. Their machine had to get fast, as fast as possible. That meant the best engines they could make while still following the rule book.

  “Motor’s got this!” Mochi yelped.

  “He’s got the best meta engine I think and an okay amount of fuel.”

  “He’s running a ten thousand Rev with pulsers and high speed three dimensional axles!”

  “Three dimensional axles are overkill,” I replied. “INOS has four overgrown tires and a bounce guard. He’ll always land on his tires.”

  “But Motor’s better built for the terrain!” Mochi rebutted.

  “And he’s all the bulkier for it. He’s eating away at his fuel in exchange for security. INOS is light and quick.”

  Mochi just barked at that.

  Truthfully, it was anyone’s race. The key factor to determining the winner was the state of the track itself. It was a highly speculated topic, but there were ways to predict the track if you knew the track designer for that season and the locations they would be set in.

  The first trap was speed bumps. They were small but the drivers were going at an insane speed, so they were dangerous.

  Motor’s car ended up jumping over them while ISON just ate up the bounce, his suspension shaking him through the near flip.

  Then came the steep hills and turns. This was one of the more dangerous obstacles. The contestants all had protective suits on, but there had been deaths before and if there were going to be any in this race, it would be right here.

  Motor’s car sped past ISON’s for a second before it suddenly dropped something from its rear end.

  “What was that?” Mochi asked me.

  “Spikes.”

  ISON’s tires ran over them quickly enough and slowly started to deflate.

  He wouldn’t crash and the tires most likely wouldn’t stay flat. Those tires were what he was relying on to win the race. They had to have a repair system.

  But ISON would slow down and in that moment, Motor’s vehicle roared ahead.

  I leaned back into the couch, a little tense and a little sad. The spike had been tossed onto the entire race floor so ISON wouldn’t be able to avoid them.

  Motor’s car had a lot of abilities but his three dimensional axels let his car jump about five feet into the air. They used up a lot of fuel and power and if he were facing his own traps, he would have driven with fuel efficiency in mind.

  ISON was more of a driver. They didn’t like altering their cars too much, so they had just made it more durable and light.

  Then, a rocket exploded on the tracks.

  “Villains?” Mochi asked.

  “Yup.”

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