October 6, Paris, France.
Heavy clouds hung low over the city as a fine drizzle drifted through the air, casting a faint pall of gloom over everyone below.
In stark contrast, ParisLongchamp Racecourse, the hallowed ground hailed as the holy land of European Umamusume racing, had transformed into a seething volcano.
A hundred thousand spectators packed the enormous circular grandstands, leaving not a single seat empty.
At that moment, the romance and passion of the French audience had been ignited to their absolute peak.
Deafening cheers and whistles mingled with the stirring opening music.
Like an overwhelming tsunami, the sound surged toward the heavens in wave after wave.
"Ladies and gentlemen, and all those who have traveled here from around the world!"
The announcer's impassioned voice rang clearly throughout the stadium over the speakers.
"Welcome to the annual pinnacle of European racing, the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe!"
"After a long wait, the strongest Umamusume in the world are about to compete on this 2,400-meter turf course and determine who truly stands at the summit!"
"OOOOOOOOH!"
The tremendous roar of the crowd surged into the sky, instantly engulfing the entire racecourse.
And it was not only the spectators in attendance.
Fans all across the world, no matter where they were or what they had been doing, had opened the livestream at the same time and were now quietly awaiting the start of the race.
...
The Far East, Mejiro Tracen.
Although it was already late at night, lights still shone from every home.
Everyone was waiting.
They were waiting for the moment when the champion who had emerged from their tiny corner of the world would ascend the throne!
Inside the main hall of the Mejiro training center, six figures, one large and five small, sat wrapped in blankets around a kotatsu.
On the enormous screen before them, footage from ParisLongchamp Racecourse was being broadcast live.
"The Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe..."
Brian pursed her lips as she gazed at that stage, which seemed to gather limitless brilliance upon itself. Something deep within her heart was suddenly stirred.
Dober and Bright huddled together for warmth as they quietly offered their encouragement.
"McQueen-onee-sama, you're the strongest!"
Sitting between them, Aoi held Suzuka in one arm and Meek in the other, using both girls as makeshift pillows.
Yet there was a hint of worry on her face.
No matter how much faith she had in Kuroha, the tremendous pressure of facing the greatest stage in the world still made tension well up uncontrollably within her heart.
"Do your best... Sensei, McQueen..."
That heartfelt wish rose from the void and merged with the countless hopes drifting above Central Tracen.
They were the expectations of everyone throughout the Far East.
"You have to win!"
"McQueen..."
"Mejiro McQueen!"
"I believe in you!"
Her classmates, the Mejiro family and friends, her racing fans, and even ordinary people who had only met her once...
The prayers of tens of millions circled overhead before finally converging into a radiant golden thread that streaked toward the distant horizon.
On a rooftop somewhere in Tokyo, two goddesses, one clad in red and the other in yellow, watched the golden thread depart. A soft, sacred radiance surrounded them, and faint smiles appeared on their faces.
"Faith, expectations, and dreams..."
The Yellow Goddess folded her arms and gazed up at the night sky as she spoke softly.
"Every last one of them weaves the hopes overflowing within their hearts into a single strand... then delivers those golden, blossoming feelings into that child's hands."
The Red Goddess completed her thought with a soft laugh before lowering her gaze toward her companion.
"Isn't that the meaning behind everything we've done over the past three hundred years?"
"..."
Byerley offered no reply and continued staring silently at the night sky.
But the slight upward curve of her lips had already revealed the wish in her heart.
...
ParisLongchamp Racecourse, competitors' tunnel.
"Trainer..."
After quietly savoring her trainer's gentle head pats, McQueen slowly opened her eyes.
"Then... shall I be going?"
The lavender-haired girl dressed in white focused her gaze. The instant she opened her eyes, an invisible aura began gathering around her.
Seeing his Umamusume brimming with fighting spirit, Kuroha chuckled and warmly opened his arms.
"McQueen."
McQueen froze for a moment. Then a radiant smile blossomed across her face, and she stepped forward into Kuroha's embrace.
A soft hum echoed through the air.
At that very moment, the golden thread that had crossed the ocean descended from the void and quietly circled above the Mejiro girl's head.
It seemed to weave an invisible floral crown for her before slowly fading away.
The instant she threw herself into Kuroha's arms and felt the warmth of her trainer's body, McQueen was filled with an incomparable sense of peace.
At that moment, the praise of her classmates, the encouragement of her companions, and the cheers of everyone at Central Tracen seemed to echo beside her ears, only to gradually fall silent once more.
The girl tightened her arms around him.
As those voices faded away, ripples spread through the deepest reaches of her heart, and a scene quietly surfaced in her mind.
At the very beginning, she had merely accompanied a friend on an outing.
There had merely been an unexpected "traffic accident."
There had merely been a regional Tracen Academy located in Tokyo.
Then that spirited young man had entered her life.
With a warm smile on his face, he had slowly extended his hand toward her.
She would remember his words for the rest of her life.
"McQueen, become my Umamusume!"
(End of Chapter)
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