The chaotic atmosphere of the car cabin felt like a cage of cold steel while Naomi pushed the engine to its limit, tires screaming against the rain-slicked asphalt. Ethan, haunted by the phantom pain of a loop where he had spat blood against brick walls, was a mess of raw nerves. He turned sharply toward the receding shadow of Edith Lysander, his face a mask of pure fury.

"Who is Nathan?!" Ethan screamed at Edith, his voice tearing. "Why am I supposed to be Nathan? Why should I bear the consequence if I am not?!". His eyes were bloodshot. "And what sister?! Don’t fucking joke with me, you freak! I have no one!", his voice cracking. Adrenaline surged through him, a violent, desperate heat that burned against the freezing chill of his soaked clothes. He roared a moan, a long, agonizing sound—"Ahhhhhh!".

Outside, the city blurred into a landscape of discarded fantasies, eventually bleeding into a total, ink-like blackness that trailed inches behind their bumper. The night seemed like a living entity trying to swallow them whole. As the wiper moved down, the transition revealed Edith standing motionless against their 267 km/h momentum. Naomi slammed on the brakes, the car fishtailing as she started to lose balance, but Ethan’s shock curdled into killing intent. With a menacing, manic laugh, Ethan lunged across the center console. He shoved Naomi aside. "Down you go, bitch!" Ethan roared, with eyes locked onto Edith, his heavy boots finding the accelerator and pinning it to the floor. The engine roared in a mechanical scream. The car was no longer a vehicle; it was a projectile of screaming metal, tearing through a world that had forgotten the laws of physics. The digital speedometer on the dashboard flickered frantically—176, 235, 267 km/h—the numbers blurring into a jagged red line of pure speed. The G-force hit them like a physical blow, pinning Ethan and Naomi into their seats until the air in their lungs felt thin and metallic. Every rattle of the frame felt like the car was on the verge of disintegrating. Outside, the rain didn't fall; it shattered against the windshield like glass, each drop exploding with the force of a gunshot as the wind ripped past the chassis with a high-pitched, mourning wail. It matched the killing intent vibrating in Ethan's bones.

Edith stood perfectly still, his posture radiating a chilling calm as if the prey were walking directly into the predator’s maw. He watched the roaring car hurtle toward him with the certainty of a man who knew that nothing could truly touch him. As the car closed the distance at a lethal level, Edith leaned slightly forward and smirked at Ethan. Through the glass and the roar of the engine, his voice seemed to vibrate directly into Ethan's mind.

"That look on your face seems familiar, Ethan..." Edith laughed menacingly, the sound echoing with a low, chilling chuckle.

Suddenly, BOOM! Someone else came in a flash before the car could reach Edith and punched him, cutting him off mid-laugh, the impact sending Edith Lysander flying backward like a broken doll through the black night. The car drifted violently as Ethan's heavy boots finally found the brakes, tires screeching in a deafening, metallic wail that ripped through the silence of the void. The chassis lifted dangerously onto its side, hanging for a heartbeat between life and death before slamming back down on all four wheels with a bone-jarring BAM.

The figure in the white suit stood motionless, the crimson stains caused by Edith’s blood on his lapels catching the harsh glare of the headlights like scattered rubies. His side profile was razor-sharp; his gaze fixed coldly on the spot where Edith had been hurled into the dark. Standing unmoved by the nearly 270 km/h momentum he had just intercepted, he turned his head slowly.

"Hello, Father," the man said with terrifying clarity through the rain.

"Shambles?" Ethan murmured.