—Natasha's POV—
The moment hung in the air, thick and silent as a held breath. The world seemed to pause, every eye locked on the tattered checkered flag in the marshal's hand. Then, it fell.
The silence did not break; it was annihilated.
A sound like the end of the world erupted from the starting line. It was a physical force, a wall of pure, concussive noise that slammed into the crowd, making chests vibrate and hearts stutter.
It wasn't just the roar of engines; it was a symphony of mechanical fury—the scream of tortured rubber clawing for purchase, the metallic shriek of components pushed to their limits, and beneath it all, the deep, guttural bellow of raw, unleashed horsepower.
A great, choking cloud of dust, gravel, and blue exhaust smoke erupted, swallowing the riders whole
