Blood on the Asphalt biker
I looked at the endless road ahead, a road that wove through the stars and back down to the messy, beautiful earth.
"None," I said, revving the engine. "Gods don't get to feel the wind."
Dax laughed, and the sound was better than any celestial choir.
"Chapter Sixty-Seven?" he challenged, gunning the throttle.
"Let's go write it," I replied.
We launched our bikes down the Starlight Highway, leaving the Hall of Origins behind. We were the Guardians of the Threshold, the riders of the storm, the glitch in the heart of eternity.