The world seemed way smaller inside the starting gate.
Only moments ago the roar of the crowd had filled the entire racecourse, a living ocean of excitement and expectation. Now that noise felt distant, filtered through layers and layers of steel. What remained was a low, restless thrum—a dull vibration of thousands of voices blending together beyond the metal frame surrounding each runner.
Every filly in the gates knew that the next few seconds would determine everything.
Then—CLANG!
The gates burst open.
"And we're off!" The commentator's voice exploded across the stadium at the exact moment the runners launched forward.
The muffled noise instantly transformed into a thunderous roar as the crowd leapt to life, cheering as the young fillies surged out onto the track.
The start was explosive across the entire field, but one runner stood out immediately.
"And the favorite Lunar Light breaks sharply from the gate!"
Lunar shot forward with a near-perfect start. Her stride found its rhythm almost instantly, each step falling into place with natural precision as she accelerated down the track. Within seconds she had already begun to separate herself from the pack.
"A brilliant start from Lunar Light as she quickly establishes the early lead!"
Her pace looked effortless, her body gliding across the turf with the smooth confidence of someone completely in control of their rhythm.
"And just like that she's already two lengths clear!"
Behind her, the rest of the field scrambled to organize themselves.
Currently running in second was the confident green-and-white-haired Uma Musume.
Enthaar maintained a strong early pace,It was slightly outside her usual comfort zone—she was far more accustomed to setting the pace from the front, but the girl was clearly determined not to let the favorite escape too far ahead.
Right beside her, another filly matched that tempo stride for stride.
The ginger-haired girl in the black-and-yellow beanie, Mallory.
Her headphones somehow remained firmly in place as she ran, her expression hidden beneath the brim of her beanie. Yet her form spoke clearly enough. Each step was balanced and controlled, her breathing stable as she held her position alongside Enthaar without giving an inch.
Then, the commentator's tone shifted slightly, a note of confusion crept into her voice. "Wait… what's this?"
There was a brief pause as the camera angle widened, showing the entire field spreading across the track. "Currently trailing at the back of the field is…"
A moment of disbelief hung in the air. "Anonym Caviar."
At the very rear of the field, several lengths behind the rest of the runners, was the second favorite.
The camera lingered on her position at the back of the pack, and the second announcer sounded openly puzzled by what he was seeing.
"Could Anonym perhaps be attempting an end-closing strategy here?"
His uncertainty was understandable. The ATC Gimcrack Stakes was a 1000 meter sprint race, and strategies that involved sitting at the very back of the field were notoriously risky over such short distances. In races like this, the pace was often too fast and the distance too short for a runner to make up that much ground in the final stretch.
Grandma Judy frowned slightly as she watched the screen. "An end closer?" she murmured thoughtfully, tilting her head as she studied Anonym's position.
She lifted her teacup and took a small sip before continuing. "That's a rather strange choice. This is a sprint race, and that kind of style usually finds far more success over longer distances."
Her hazel eyes narrowed slightly as she observed the unfolding race below.
Meanwhile, far ahead on the track, Lunar was completely unaware of the discussion taking place above the grandstand.
Her lead had grown large enough that the pounding footsteps behind her sounded distant, almost swallowed by the wind rushing past her ears. The clean start she had achieved allowed her to settle into her rhythm quickly, and for a moment the race around her felt strangely quiet despite the cheering crowds.
Curious, she glanced briefly over her shoulder.
From her vantage point at the front, she could already see the middle pack beginning to form. The runners behind her were spreading into their positions as they fought for control of the race.
Mallory and Enthaar were locked in a fierce battle for second place, their strides nearly synchronized as they pushed forward side by side. Neither of them seemed willing to surrender even a fraction of ground while chasing the leader ahead.
Lunar's pale yellow eyes drifted further back, she searched for someone else. Where's Anonym?
She couldn't see her, not even a glimpse.
That was unusual.
Normally when they raced during training, Anonym always used a stalking strategy, hovering just behind her like a quiet shadow while waiting for the right moment to strike. Lunar had grown so used to feeling that presence behind her that she had fully expected it again today.
But instead, there was nothing. The absence felt strangely noticeable and unsettling. Her rhythm faltered slightly as the thought crossed her mind. Did something happen?
For a brief moment, her focus drifted away from the race. But then she exhaled slowly, steadying herself.
No… focus.
Her gaze returned forward. Whatever Anonym was doing behind her wasn't something she could control right now. So she pushed the thought aside and focused on her own race.
Namawa leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed on the ongoing race. "…Isn't this the first time Lunar has ever raced as a front runner?" she asked curiously.
Beside her, Saiya nodded. "Yeah," she replied calmly.
Her silver eyes remained locked on Lunar's figure as her dearest friend continued to lead the race. For a moment Saiya said nothing more, simply observing the subtle details of Lunar's movement as she surged down the track. "At first she looked a little unsure…"
Saiya's gaze narrowed slightly as she studied the motion of Lunar's stride. Her special eyes caught details most people would never notice. "She wasn't completely comfortable with the placement," Saiya continued. "You could see the hesitation early on."
For a brief moment after the start, Lunar's rhythm had been imperfect. There had been the faintest unevenness in her steps, small twitches in her calves, and a slight stiffness in the way her stride carried forward.
Saiya's expression softened slightly. "…But it's gone now."
The uncertainty had gradually faded away as Lunar settled into the race. Her stride smoothed out with every passing step until the awkwardness vanished entirely, replaced by something far more familiar.
Confidence.
Her rhythm stabilized naturally as she pushed through the end of the first straight, her form becoming fluid and relaxed once again as though she had finally slipped into the pace her body preferred.
Saiya smiled faintly. "Looks like she found her cadence again."
The field surged onward as the runners approached the first corner, their pounding footsteps drumming across the turf in a rhythmic manner, the pack beginning to stretch as the race found its shape.
Lunar reached the turn first.
She leaned smoothly into the curve, her body tilting with practiced precision as she adjusted her stride. The movement looked effortless, almost instinctive, a kind of natural control that very few runners could truly replicate.
Her pace didn't falter. If anything, it grew stronger.
The momentum carried her cleanly through the corner, her silver hair streaming behind her like a banner as the distance between her and the others quietly widened.
Two lengths.
Three.
Soon approaching four.
Behind her, Enthaar saw it happening in real time. The proud filly narrowed her emerald eyes as she watched Lunar glide through the turn with frightening ease.
She's accelerating… through the corner?
The realization sent a flicker of pressure through her chest. That gap was growing, way too quickly. Her teeth clenched slightly as she pushed harder against the turf.
I can't let her get away like that.
Without hesitation, Enthaar attempted to match the maneuver.
Seeing Lunar accelerate through the corner had sparked an immediate response within her, and she pushed harder into the turn, trying to replicate the same burst of speed the leader had displayed only moments earlier.
But the result was far less graceful.
Her footing wavered.
The balance of her stride broke for a split second, and the corner punished the mistake instantly. Enthaar was forced to ease her pace just slightly in order to regain her stability, the brief stumble costing her a critical amount of momentum.
And that single mistake was all someone else needed.
Calmly and without wasting even a single step, another runner slipped past her.
Mallory moved forward with quiet efficiency, overtaking Enthaar as though she had been waiting patiently for that exact opening. She slid neatly into second place while they continued through the bend, claiming the opportunity with perfect timing.
Enthaar clicked her tongue in frustration.
But she didn't dwell on it.
Focus.
She composed herself and pushed forward again, forcing her stride back into rhythm as they approached the latter half of the turn. By the time she fully recovered, another competitor had already drawn alongside her.
It was Authentic Jewel.
The two runners emerged shoulder to shoulder as they exited the corner, their strides matching as they battled to maintain their positions behind the runaway leader.
Up in the commentary booth, the shift in the race did not go unnoticed. "And Lunar Light continues to extend her lead through the turn!" the announcer exclaimed. "What an incredibly smooth corner maneuver from the favorite!"
The replay screen flashed the moment again.
"And there it is once more! Enthaar attempts to follow that acceleration but loses her balance slightly in the process! That mistake allows Mallory to move cleanly into second place!"
Back in the VIP section, Sebring watched the moment unfold with open amusement.
She rested her chin lightly against her hand, her lilac eyes following the race with a faint, entertained smirk.
"How arrogant," she mused lazily.
Her gaze lingered on Enthaar's position as the green-haired runner struggled to recover. "Trying to imitate something you clearly can't handle."
Despite the criticism, there was a subtle note of satisfaction in her voice.
"But I'm not complaining," she added with a small smile. "That little mistake gave sweet Mallory a very convenient opportunity to slip into second~"
She leaned back comfortably in her seat as the race continued below, though her expression soon dulled slightly. "…Though honestly, this race is starting to look rather boring."
Lunar was now nearly four lengths ahead, running freely with no immediate pressure from behind and no challengers close enough to threaten her lead.
Sebring sighed quietly.
"It's unfortunate for sweet Mallory," she continued with casual indifference, "but her talents simply aren't enough to even touch a strand of that cursed silver hair..."
Her tone wasn't cruel, it was simply factual. With the outcome seemingly obvious, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.
Now then… She opened a few tabs absently. Where should I take Mallory after the race?
A consolation outing seemed appropriate, maybe dinner somewhere nice… or perhaps a shopping trip for new gaming headsets..?
As she scrolled, considering her options, a hand gently touched her shoulder, prompting Sebring to glance sideways.
Prince stood beside her, her expression unusually serious. "Mother."
Sebring raised an eyebrow. "What is it, dear?"
Prince didn't answer immediately.Instead, she simply lifted her hand and pointed toward the track."…Look."
Sebring followed the direction of her daughter's gaze.
And the moment her eyes landed on the screen—they widened.
At the back of the field, something strange was happening. A dark mass seemed to swallow the rear of the race. From a distance it almost resembled a storm cloud rolling across the turf, a swirling wave of shadow that engulfed the trailing runners as it surged forward.
And within that storm, a single figure emerged.
Anonym.
Her sprint was merciless.
Wind roared around her as she accelerated, her body cutting through the pack like a blade slicing through water. Dead leaves lifted violently from the turf in the turbulent gusts created by her speed, spiraling wildly in the air and creating the eerie illusion that the storm itself was chasing the runners ahead.
In the span of a few heartbeats—
She passed one runner.
Then another.
Then two more.
Four runners overtaken in an instant.
Sebring slowly lowered her phone. "…Well," she murmured quietly.
The boredom in her voice had vanished completely. "…That's new."
The commentators barely had time to process what they were seeing before the situation on the track changed completely. "WAIT—WHAT IS HAPPENING AT THE BACK OF THE FIELD?!"
The camera struggled to follow the sudden movement as Anonym burst out of the corner with terrifying speed.
"ANONYM CAVIAR IS FLYING THROUGH THE PACK!"
She erupted from the rear of the field like a predator finally unleashed. Her stride was powerful and relentless, each step hammering into the turf with explosive force as her momentum carried her forward through the cluster of runners ahead.
"She's overtaking them all in one swoop!"
One.
Three.
Six.
Eight runners swallowed in seconds.
The midfield collapsed behind her so quickly it almost looked as though it had never existed in the first place.
"And just like that she has blasted past the entire midfield!"
The commentators were nearly shouting now, their voices rising higher and higher with every passing second as the astonishing scene unfolded before them.
"And she's still accelerating!"
Instead of slowing down after that incredible surge through the midfield, Anonym's speed seemed to grow even more violent as she burst out of the corner.
Her body leaned forward with predatory intensity, every muscle in her frame driving her forward with relentless force. The wind tore past her as she ran, the storm of dark clouds surrounding her churning wildly like it was struggling to keep up with the pace she was setting.
Her eyes were locked straight ahead, four runners remained in front of her.
Authentic Jewel.
Mallory.
Enthaar.
And far ahead—
Lunar.
"And now she's charging down the leaders!" the commentator cried out, her voice brimming with disbelief. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is unbelievable!"
Only moments ago, Black Caviar had been watching the race with calm confidence. Now her eyes were wide in pure shock.
Her gaze remained fixed on the storm raging around her daughter, studying every detail of the phenomenon with growing unease. "…That doesn't look right."
She leaned slightly forward in her seat, her expression sharpening as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. "When did her [Zone] become that intense?" She turned toward Autumn Sun, who sat beside her.
Autumn Sun looked just as confused. "I… don't know," she admitted honestly.
Anonym's [Zone] had manifested before during training and races, but it had never looked like this, because it had always been unstable.
It just manifested as a chaotic storm of clouds that spilled outward in every direction, overwhelming everything around her without any real structure or control.
But this time, something about it was different. The storm surrounding Anonym was far larger than before. Yet strangely, it also looked tighter.
More compressed.
The swirling clouds of darkness were no longer spreading aimlessly across the track. Instead, they had condensed into a dense, violent mass that wrapped tightly around her body like a raging cyclone drawn inward by an unseen force.
Gales howled through the vortex, dead leaves spun endlessly in the turbulent winds.
The sheer density of the storm made it difficult to even see Anonym clearly within it, as though the darkness itself was swallowing her silhouette while she continued charging forward through the race.
Then Saiya suddenly spoke up. "…Wait." Her voice wasn't loud, but the focus in it immediately drew everyone's attention.
Saiya's silver eyes were glowing faintly as she stared down at the track with intense concentration, her gaze fixed completely on the violent storm swirling around Anonym. "The clouds… Anonym's [Zone], it's different than usual.."
Black Caviar frowned slightly as she followed Saiya's line of sight. "What do you mean?"
Saiya didn't answer right away, she couldn't take her eyes off Anonym.
Where most people could only read emotions through expressions or body language, Saiya's eyes could perceive them directly, as if feelings themselves left physical traces in the world around their owners.
To Saiya, emotions were never truly invisible, it wasn't a concept. And right now, as she stared at Anonym racing across the track, she was seeing exactly that.
She slowly raised her hand and pointed toward the swirling storm surrounding the girl. "That entire storm of clouds isn't just a simple [Zone] manifestation." Her voice lowered. "It's… a cluster of emotions..."
"What kind of emotion?" Black Caviar asked.
Saiya's expression darkened slightly as she listened to something none of them could hear. "…Negative ones." She swallowed. "A lot of them."
Her gaze remained fixed on the raging storm wrapped around Anonym's body as the girl continued sprinting down the track. "It's incredibly loud," Saiya continued quietly. "Even from here."
Without realizing it, she lifted both hands to her ears, pressing them down slightly as if trying to block something out. "All the doubts… the frustration… the anger… the fear…" Her voice softened even further. "They're all screaming."
The words hung in the air like a warning, heavy and chilling, before suddenly, Autumn Sun's eyes widened. A thought struck her with terrifying clarity. "…Wait."
She glanced back toward the storm, her mind racing to connect the pieces. "If my [Zone] amplifies my abilities using positive emotions…" she murmured aloud, thinking as much to herself as to anyone who might hear.
Love, joy, excitement! Those feelings were her fuel, what allowed her to transcend her limits, to push her body and mind beyond their normal capacity.
Her voice dropped even lower. "…Then if that principle is universal…" Her gaze remained locked on the shadowy storm that clawed its way forward. "…then Anonym is gaining all that power—" A shiver ran down her spine as the realization struck. "…by feeding on negative emotions?"
From within the storm, the world looked completely different.
The cheers of the crowd had faded into distant noise, swallowed beneath the violent winds that howled around her. Gales rushed past her ears in deafening torrents, the storm surrounding her raging so fiercely that it drowned out even the sound of her own heartbeat.
Still, Anonym kept running. Her gaze remained fixed ahead.
Through the swirling darkness, she could see the runners in front of her now. The distance between them had already shrunk to only a few lengths.
Three uma musumes, just within reach.
Her eyes caught the open back of Authentic Jewel as the girl pushed forward through the straight. She saw the flowing green-and-white hair of Enthaar blowing in the wind as she fought to maintain her pace. And beside them, the familiar yellow jacket of Mallory flashed in and out of view as the ginger-haired runner held her position.
But Anonym's eyes were not truly focused on them, they were looking further ahead, far past them. Locked onto a single figure racing down the track, onto the silver-haired girl running alone at the front.
A quiet thought formed inside Anonym's mind as she watched the distance between them.
She's so far away…
Her breathing deepened as Lunar's figure continued gliding across the turf ahead of her, smooth and beautiful, as though the course itself had simply opened a path for her to run on.
She's amazing.
The admiration came naturally. It slipped into her thoughts without resistance, a simple and honest acknowledgment of what she was seeing.
But the moment that thought formed, something inside her mind snapped back violently.
A voice.
No—
Voices.
Amazing?
"Amazing?" The word ricocheted through her skull like a concussion, jagged and accusing. Look at her. Look at how far ahead she is. The voice twisted cruelly, sharp with contempt. And look at you.
Another voice joined in, then another. Pathetic. So slow. So weak.
The storm around her roared louder, feeding on the venom of the words themselves, whipping the darkness into a violent frenzy.
How can someone like you even call herself her rival?
The accusation struck like a blade.
Anonym's vision flickered as a painful pressure surged through her head, sharp and overwhelming, the noise in her mind swelling into a chaotic chorus. "Shut up!"
The words tore out of her throat before she even realized she had spoken them. But her legs never slowed.
She kept running, her legs pumping, her stride eating up the turf beneath her, but the voices didn't stop. They only grew louder, rising in a twisted symphony of emotion that crashed against her mind like relentless waves. Laughter, high and cruel—rippled through her thoughts, mocking her, pushing at the edges of her focus. Anxiety slithered in behind it, coiling tightly around her chest. Anger followed, hot and biting. Despair seeped into the spaces left behind, heavy and suffocating. Doubt whispered relentlessly, questioning every step, every breath.
The chaotic storm of emotion battered her thoughts, threatening to overwhelm her entirely. Her breathing shook, her teeth clenched instinctively, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like she might drown in the noise, like the voices would consume her mind before her legs could carry her any further.
Then she forced herself to calm down. These emotions… aren't mine.
Her stride didn't falter. If anything, it became sharper, more violent, more precise. She reminded herself that they were borrowed—that was the nature of her [Zone], after all. Every runner she overtook left something behind—fear, frustration, desperation. Her storm devoured those feelings, stole them, and converted them into fuel, feeding her, propelling her forward. The stronger those emotions, the faster she became, and the more alive her strides felt.
She had discovered this strange, terrifying synergy after her second official race. That day, she'd had a poor start, had fallen behind, and felt the panic rising in her chest as the pack stretched ahead. And then it happened, her [Zone] manifested automatically. The flood of emotions left behind by those ahead of her surged into her awareness, and she felt herself growing faster and faster with every competitor she passed. The sensation was overwhelming, almost intoxicating, but also illuminating.
From that day on, she had made it her mission to understand it. She asked her mother endless questions about zones, pouring over every explanation she could get. She scoured the internet, reading old race logs, research papers, and anecdotal stories from others who had experienced similar phenomena. She tested theories during training, experimenting with pacing, positioning, and emotional input, always analyzing, always calculating. Each trial, each small success, slowly revealed the mechanics of her own power: what conditions allowed it to flourish, and what circumstances could suppress it.
And she had learned the key. The condition that allowed her [Zone] to reach its absolute peak, starting from the back. Feed off as many emotions as possible—frustration, fear, doubt, desperation, even anger, and stack them, one on top of the other, until her body, her mind, and her very soul became a relentlessly devouring storm. The more she absorbed, the faster she grew, the more she could push herself to the limits.
Her eyes lifted again, scanning the field ahead. The three runners in front of her were close now—close enough that she could almost feel the energy radiating off them, the raw, pulsing tension of their effort. Every ounce of desperation, every flicker of doubt. And one of them in particular drew her attention—Authentic Jewel. The girl's panic was nearly visible, leaking from every trembling muscle and strained breath. Anonym could almost taste it, a sharp tang of fear and frustration.
The storm swirling around her crackled violently in response, the winds whipping with a feral hunger. She moved like a predator, each stride feeding off the emotion around her, amplifying her own power. The surge inside her was insatiable. She didn't hesitate as she leaned slightly outward, sliding into the outside lane with deadly precision, eyes locked on her target.
Authentic Jewel noticed her, finally. Those diamond-like eyes widened as the approaching tempest came into focus, and panic ripped through her in a sudden, choking wave. No. Stop. Please—she could barely think. I can do it. I can still hold on. But the raging storm ignored her protests entirely.
Anonym's lips curled slowly upward into a smile—not warm, not inviting, but something much more unsettling. It was as though the storm itself had learned how to grin as she surged past, a force of nature devouring everything in her path. The moment she overtook Authentic Jewel, the storm swallowed the girl's desperation whole, feeding Anonym with it instantly. Power surged through her muscles. Her stride lengthened violently, the acceleration sharp and explosive, and suddenly the gap to the leaders began to shrink at an alarming rate.
Ahead of her now were only two fillies, Mallory and Enthaar. Anonym leaned further forward, her eyes narrowing with a predator's instinct. Every thought in her mind focused on them, every muscle coiled to strike. She launched herself forward with terrifying intent.
Mallory felt it before she could comprehend it. The air thickened around her as a chill prickled her spine, sending goosebumps racing down her arms. Instinctively, she glanced over her shoulder, and her breath caught instantly. Anonym was there.
Mallory snapped her eyes forward again, forcing herself to focus, but the image had already burned into her mind. She could still feel it behind her, the presence of something unstoppable closing in. The relentless pounding of Anonym's strides struck in perfect, terrifying rhythm, syncing with her own heartbeat. Thump. Step. Thump. Step.
The rhythm behind her pressed in with an unnatural precision, syncing so perfectly with Mallory's own heartbeat that it felt as though the figure trailing her was moving to the exact pulse driving her legs forward. Panic began to crawl into her chest, sharp and insistent. She instinctively tried to accelerate, pumping her legs harder, desperately attempting to widen the distance between herself and the presence rapidly gaining from behind.
But fear made her sloppy. Her stride faltered. One step landed unevenly, forcing her to adjust mid-motion before she could stabilize again. That single, minor wobble cost her precious seconds—seconds that someone else exploited immediately.
A green-and-white blur shot past her. Enthaar surged forward, reclaiming the position Mallory had only just held. She passed with a confident smile, carrying the silent message of I told you I wouldn't lose. But Enthaar's satisfaction barely lasted.
Because the instant she settled into her place, the world shifted violently around her senses. A presence slammed into her perception with the force of a storm. Her body jolted in shock.
"W–what—?!" she managed to gasp, turning her head instinctively.
And there she was, Anonym.
She had materialized beside her in the blink of an eye and for the briefest instant, Enthaar glimpsed those deep blue eyes—cold, unflinching, and utterly indifferent. They didn't look at her. They didn't acknowledge her existence. Enthaar felt a pang of invisibility, as though she had vanished entirely.
Then Anonym surged past her, completely. The gap formed instantly, leaving Enthaar staring at empty air while the cyclone ahead swallowed the track.
Back in the commentary booth, the announcers were frantically shouting over each other, none of their composure remained as it was shattered.
"THIS IS ABSOLUTELY UNBELIEVABLE!" one screamed, voice cracking under the strain of excitement. "Anonym Caviar has overtaken nearly the entire field in the span of just five hundred meters!"
The camera panned out, revealing the full track, the pack of runners now dwarfed by two lone figures blazing through them. "And they're approaching the final two hundred meters!" the other announcer bellowed, almost at a loss for words.
Up ahead, a single silver figure still commanded the lead. Lunar glided across the turf with a seemingly effortless rhythm, her long stride smooth, precise. She had established a commanding eight-length lead, a buffer that seemed almost untouchable.
Grandma Judy watched with quiet contemplation. Her sharp hazel eyes followed the chaos raging behind the leader, tracking the storm that was Anonym's [Zone].
"…A valiant effort," she murmured softly, almost to herself. Her gaze lingered on the violent storm chasing Lunar, swirling with energy that seemed both chaotic and methodical at once. "That girl's [Zone]… it's terrifying, almost as much as her mother's.."
She shook her head slowly, the corners of her mouth faintly turned down. "But at the end of the day…" Her voice softened slightly, carrying a weight of experience and wisdom. "…she's still too young to fully harness it. One day, perhaps, she'll master it completely—but not today."
Meanwhile, Autumn Sun watched with a very different expression, one filled with deep concern. Her eyes remained fixed on her daughter as it was becoming clear that Anonym's burst of speed had begun to falter. Her movements, once fluid and violent with momentum, were growing heavier. Each stride demanded more effort, each landing shook her legs with increasing strain. The monstrous power she had unleashed moments ago was beginning to exact a toll, and the gap between her and Lunar, while closer than ever, was no longer shrinking.
Autumn Sun's hands clenched instinctively. "…She's pushing herself too hard," she murmured, a quiet note of worry threading her voice.
Anonym felt it too. Every inhalation scorched her lungs, every stride dragged against a growing weight that threatened to crush her rhythm. Her eyes remained fixed on Lunar's back gliding ahead. Still so far ahead. The distance refused to narrow no matter how violently she drove herself forward. And slowly, painfully, the truth sank in, carving itself into her chest like a jagged stone: I don't have enough left. I can't catch her.
The storm around her, once wild and untamed, trembled with the shift. The borrowed emotions she had harvested from the runners she'd overtaken began to fade, one by one, evaporating like mist in the wind. The voices that had screamed, laughed, taunted, and berated inside her head gradually softened. Laughter vanished first, then the sharp anger, then the doubt. One by one, every borrowed thought dissolved into silence. Until finally, the tempest was gone. There was nothing left but emptiness and quiet.
For a moment, Anonym believed it was over. Her stride slowed. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion, and a fragile doubt slipped in. Maybe… maybe she really couldn't do it.
Then it happened.
A voice tore through the silence, sharp and violent, like glass shattering inside her skull. CHASE HER, YOU COWARD!
The sound was visceral, almost painful. CAN'T YOU SEE?! SHE'S RUNNING ALONE!
Anonym's eyes widened in recognition. That voice—too familiar, impossibly close, vibrating with a raw intensity—was hers. The scream surged again, vicious and relentless, a torrent of self-recrimination that cut through every ounce of fatigue. WORTHLESS SHIT! GIVING UP NOW?! EXPECTED THAT FROM SOMEONE AS TIMID AND QUIET AS YOU!
Her legs continued to move, almost against her will. Step after step, her body obeyed, driven by an unknown force. Her chest burned as her lungs screamed for air. Her limbs ached with every stride, heavy as if filled with molten lead. Her vision trembled, sweat stinging the edges of her eyes, and exhaustion clawed relentlessly at every fiber of her body.
Yet the voice inside her head did not relent. It shrieked, tormented and raw, WORTHLESS. COWARD. RUN.
Anonym forced out a ragged breath, each inhale a struggle as her body trembled under the weight of exhaustion. Her thoughts were scrambled, fragmented, like sparks flickering against a storm. Who… are you…? The question barely held together in her mind, twisting and breaking under the pressure of fatigue. What… do you want…?
For a brief, suspended moment, the voice fell silent. And then it laughed—not loudly, but with a mocking amusement that crawled along her spine, making every hair stand on end.
"Stupid as always, aren't you?" it said, cruel in the way it danced between amusement and scorn. "But that's exactly what I expected from you too." It hummed thoughtfully for a heartbeat, "So let me explain it to you."
And then, without warning, something inside Anonym changed. Her control began to slip like sand through her fingers. Her legs moved, yes, but they no longer felt like her own. Each step struck the ground, but the pounding impact against the turf no longer registered. The world itself seemed to vanish beneath her feet. And yet, impossibly, her speed increased.
Ahead of her, Lunar—once impossibly distant—grew nearer, larger, sharper. And the voice continued. "I'm you."
The words struck her like a revelation, the weight of them sinking deep. "The accumulation of every negative thought you've ever had."
Her breathing grew shallow, shallow enough to feel like smoke in her lungs. Another sense vanished. The smell of the track—the grass, the dirt, the faint scent of sweat carried by the wind, disappeared entirely. The world felt hollow, empty, stripped to its bones.
And yet, her vision focused. Lunar's figure became unnervingly clear, impossibly close. The distance between them contracted with every heartbeat.
"I'm your [Zone]," the voice said again, almost reverently. "The one that devoured every emotion from every runner you passed."
The storm—the fear, the despair, the desperation she had stolen from others—it had never truly belonged to them anymore. It had become something else, something alive. "And now…" the voice softened, "…it's your turn."
"To be overtaken."
Silence swallowed the world.
Anonym blinked, but there was nothing to see. "…By myself," she whispered, her voice a fragile thread against the void.
Lunar too had disappeared, vanished as if erased from existence, swallowed by nothingness. Darkness closed in like a tide, consuming everything she thought she knew.
Her vision faded, her hearing collapsed into silence, her sense of touch vanished. The track, the race, her body—all of it dissolved. There was no movement, no wind, no weight, no pulse of life. Only endless, perfect silence stretched infinitely in every direction.
Anonym drifted into the hollow space, a void with neither beginning nor end, where nothing existed—no track, no race, no body, no sound. Only her, and the whispering echo of the storm she had created.
But outside, the race pressed on relentlessly. The stadium thundered with sound as the crowd's excitement reached a fever pitch, and the commentators' voices suddenly erupted again, cracking with disbelief.
"WAIT—WHAT IS HAPPENING NOW?!" one shouted, barely able to contain his shock.
On the track, the storm that had swallowed the back of the field shifted violently. Anonym Caviar was moving again—faster than before, impossibly fast.
"And Anonym Caviar is accelerating—she's faster than before! Much faster!" the commentator yelled, his voice almost drowned by the roar of the crowd.
The gap that had once seemed insurmountable began collapsing at a terrifying rate.
"Eight lengths—!"
"Five lengths now!"
The field thundered down the final stretch, every runner straining with exhaustion, but the silver figure of Lunar Light remained ahead, her stride controlled, smooth, almost effortless.
"Three—!"
The dark-clad figure behind her was closing with frightening speed.
"Two lengths!" The crowd's roar surged again, echoing across the grandstand, a tidal wave of sound that pushed every heartbeat into overdrive.
"And they've entered the final two hundred meters!"
And now—finally—"Anonym" was right there, crushing the space between herself and Lunar. Right on her tail.
In the stands, Saiya's body tensed as if the air itself had turned electric. She stood abruptly, eyes widening in sheer disbelief. "…No," she murmured, her voice thin and barely audible, trembling with a mixture of shock and alarm. "…That's wrong."
What she saw made no sense, the violent storm that had enveloped Anonym moments ago hadn't disappeared. It hadn't weakened. Instead, it had transformed. The swirling darkness condensed, compacting into a perfect, humanoid shape that mirrored the Anonym herself.
Saiya's face went pale. Her hands gripped the railing with sudden urgency. "…That's not her," she whispered, her voice trembling as the realization sank in. The thing chasing Lunar wasn't just Anonym surrounded by her [Zone].
It was THE [Zone].
Saiya's voice broke finally into a panicked shout that carried over the cheering of the crowd. "THAT'S NOT ANONYM!"
Lunar still maintained her perfect, uncompromising rhythm. Her silver hair streamed behind her as the finish line was nearing. For a fleeting instant, everything seemed under control.
Then she felt a pressure that rolled across her back like a violent storm front, a force far heavier and more relentless than any wind she had ever heard, it sounded like… malice.
Lunar's instincts screamed, and she dared a glance over her shoulder and what she saw made her chest tighten with pure unease. Anonym was right behind her, but something was terribly, fundamentally wrong.
The girl's mouth stretched into a grin that looked unnatural, too wide, crooked, as if it had been carved to mock the world itself. But that was not the most terrifying part. Her eyes—the deep, piercing blue Lunar knew so well—were empty.
Despair had taken root in them, cold and heavy, and it radiated outward, tugging at Lunar's chest with a weight that felt physical. Something in her gut screamed the truth for her mind.
That wasn't Anonym.
At that exact moment, the girl behind her locked eyes with her, and the grin that stretched across her face widened even further. The voice that cut through the air was sharp and thunderous, cracking like lightning.
"WHAT'S WRONG, LUNAR?!" she shouted. "ARE YOU SCARED?!"
The distance between them disappeared almost instantly, closing in like two forces colliding. "AFRAID I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU?!"
Within seconds, the two of them were running almost side by side, strides perfectly aligned yet charged with entirely different energy. The stadium erupted. The screaming of the crowd at Randwick Racecourse hit a fever pitch, drowning out every sound of boots striking the turf as the final stretch transformed into a dramatic duel that no one had anticipated.
The commentators shouted over one another, barely able to keep up with the spectacle on screen. "INCREDIBLE! ANONYM CAVIAR HAS CAUGHT UP TO LUNAR LIGHT IN THE FINAL MOMENTS!"
"This is an unbelievable finish to the ATC Gimcrack Stakes!" one announcer gasped, leaning closer to the microphone.
"Anonym seems to be shouting something at Lunar, but the crowd is deafening—we can't hear a word!"
Lunar however, had heard every word. Every syllable burned into her consciousness, and the more she looked at the figure beside her, the more certain she became. Whatever this is, it is not Anonym.
Lunar's gaze hardened, a quiet fire igniting deep in her chest. A faint haze began rising around her body, a silver and red shimmer that pulsed with controlled intensity. Her own [Zone] awakened, rising up to the challenge.
She spoke, her voice clear and loud over everything. "Afraid?"
The words carried calm authority. "There's no need to be afraid."
Her now golden eyes locked on the hollow blue gaze beside her. "You won't ever beat me."
The moment her [Zone] expanded outward, it collided directly with the storm surrounding the false Anonym, causing the dark clouds of hatred, despair, and all the negative emotions began dissolving on contact, shredded by the silvery and red glow as if the very presence of her [Zone] rejected their existence.
"Because only my rival can do that."
And in the very next instant, she surged forward. Her stride exploded with renewed power, every muscle firing with precision as she pulled away from the collapsing storm behind her. The gap widened instantly.
Behind her, the figure that had been chasing her slowed. The storm that had been driving the body forward shattered completely, its malevolent energy evaporating into nothing. The false consciousness, the voice that had shouted and mocked, faltered, and for the first time, confusion touched it.
I am not… your… rival?
The thought echoed weakly, fading as the darkness dispersed. Then, just like that, it was gone.
At that exact moment, the real Anonym returned. Sensations rushed back all at once—-the deafening shouts of the crowd, the wind against her skin, the relentless rhythm of everything pounding in her ears. For a split second, she barely understood where she was, disoriented by the sudden return to reality.
And then—she crossed the finish line.
The commentator's voice boomed over the stadium, nearly drowned out by the cheers of thousands. "AND THERE IT IS!"
The crowd erupted, a wave of sound that shook the grandstand. "THE FAVORITE, LUNAR LIGHT, WINS THE ATC Gimcrack Stakes!"
Lunar runner slowed past the finish post, still lengths clear of the runner behind her.
"And finishing second is the second favorite, Anonym Caviar, trailing just three lengths behind!" the commentator continued, his excitement evident as the runners crossed one by one.
"And coming in third place is the third favorite, Enthaar!" He chuckled softly into the microphone, the amusement in his voice clear. "Well now, that's quite the amusing little coincidence!"
Beside him, the second announcer leaned forward, her grin wide. "Maybe the numbers line up nicely," she said, but her voice carried genuine awe. "But that race was anything but little… and it certainly wasn't a coincidence."
The first commentator nodded vigorously, almost shouting over the lingering cheers. "That was an absolutely fantastic race. A duel for the ages. Every step, every surge… incredible!"
For a long moment after crossing the finish line, Anonym simply stood there, as if the world itself had slowed to match the uneven rhythm of her breathing. Her legs trembled slightly, still struggling to support her body after the overusing her [Zone], while the adrenaline coursing through her veins began to ebb, leaving her muscles heavy and her chest tight.
She lifted her head slowly, letting her gaze drift toward the sky. The blue stretched wide above her, utterly indifferent to the chaos that had just consumed her from the inside out. For a fleeting second, it was almost impossible to reconcile that peaceful expanse with the violent turmoil she had just endured.
Then her gaze fell back to the grass beneath her feet, the familiar green of the track so ordinary and yet so grounding. The blades swayed gently in the breeze, and she flexed her fingers, noticing for the first time how much she had missed the simple sensations of the world. The air brushing against her skin, the faint earthy scent of the turf, the whisper of the wind—all of it came crashing back in a rush, overwhelming in its simplicity. After losing every sense in the chaos of her [Zone], the sudden return felt almost like a rebirth.
Anonym exhaled slowly, forcing herself to ground her scattered thoughts, to tether herself to the moment. Her mind wandered back to what had just happened. Her [Zone] hadn't been just a tool of speed, or instinct—it had a will of its own, an ego! And somehow… it had taken control of her.
The thought barely formed before a sudden weight pressed against her, The embrace came barreling onto her, and the world folded around her in that instant. She didn't even need to look to know who it was.
Without a second thought, Anonym returned the embrace with equal firmness, her arms wrapping around Lunar's back as she leaned into the steady, reassuring warmth. They were both drenched in sweat, chests heaving from exertion, every muscle trembling from the race, every nerve still singing from the strain—but none of that mattered now. Not the fatigue, not the exhaustion, not even the adrenaline still coursing through their bodies. None of it mattered.
Because Lunar was there.
Lunar's voice broke through softly, quiet but tinged with concern. "…Is this really you, Anonym?"
Anonym pressed her chin lightly against Lunar's shoulder, letting herself rest there for just a moment longer. "Mhm," she murmured, her voice tired but gentle. "It's me."
Lunar's shoulders visibly relaxed, the tension easing from her posture. They remained like that for a few seconds, simply holding each other amidst the fading roar of the stadium, letting the world settle around them.
Eventually, though, reality crept back in. Lunar shifted slightly, wrinkling her nose with a faint grimace. "…Okay."
Anonym lifted her head, blinking at her. "…Okay what?"
Lunar pulled back just a little, giving her a mildly troubled look. "We are both… extremely sweaty."
Anonym paused, glancing down at herself. "…Ah."
Lunar wiped at her forehead with the back of her hand, making a small face. "I feel like I just hugged a soaked towel."
Anonym tilted her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "…You hugged me first."
"That's because I was worried!" Lunar protested lightly.
"You could have been worried from a slightly farther distance," Anonym countered.
"…You're the one holding on so tight," Lunar shot back.
"You were squeezing me too," Anonym replied, a soft grin forming.
They stared at each other for a beat, the tension softening into something warmer. Then Lunar let out a small sigh. "…Fine."
Anonym nodded. "…Fine."
Almost simultaneously, they loosened their arms and stepped back, the space between them feeling a little awkward after the intensity of the embrace. Lunar quickly eased the moment by lifting a hand, extending it toward Anonym as a silent invitation.
Anonym's hand rose halfway, hesitating as her gaze lingered on Lunar's. "…Lunar," she said quietly.
Lunar tilted her head, her expression patient. "Yes?"
Anonym swallowed, the question rising naturally from somewhere deep inside her. "…Can I beat you one day?"
Lunar's response was immediate, her face lighting up with that warm, sincere smile she always wore when speaking from the heart. "Of course! You're my rival, after all."
The certainty in her voice struck Anonym like sunlight breaking through a cloudy sky. Something warm bloomed inside her chest, a fluttering she could neither stop nor deny. Her heart beat a little faster, and without thinking, she reached forward—but not for just a hand.
Instead, she grabbed Lunar's entire arm, slipping her own through it, linking them together comfortably. She leaned in slightly, drawing closer as if that simple gesture could anchor her to this moment.
Lunar blinked, surprised. "Ah—?"
Anonym met her gaze, and for the first time in a long while, a smile spread across her face—a wide, natural smile that seemed to light the world around her. It was rare and absolutely breathtaking. Lunar couldn't look away, completely captivated by the unexpectedness of it.
"Then in that case…" Anonym said softly, her voice carrying a genuine warmth. "…Since I'm your rival…" She tightened her hold on Lunar's arm. "…that means you're mine."