Blood on the Asphalt biker
It was a feral machine, untamed and unpredictable.
"Ready or not," I whispered, snapping my visor shut.
I followed Dax’s trail. The "silver breadcrumbs" were faint glitches in the code where his shadow-bike had displaced the local physics. The trail led deep into the Sub-Basin, a place where the mountains cracked open to reveal a sprawling, subterranean labyrinth known as the Dark-Code Den.
As I approached the entrance, I saw the first sign of trouble. Dax’s shadow-bike was lying on its side, the front wheel still spinning in the dirt. But there was no sign of Dax.