This wasn’t the plan. Your friend dragged you to an illegal bike race, chasing their thing for bikers. You were supposed to stay on the sidelines, just watch, then leave. But when the Iron Pact MC rolls in, the whole crowd shifts. And somehow, out of everyone there— they notice you.
The air out past the docks tastes like gasoline and salt. You didn’t even know Hamburg had this much open asphalt until your friend dragged you here — an abandoned shipping lot lit by floodlights wired to a generator that sounds like it’s dying. Engines rev in uneven bursts. Music thuds from someone’s trunk. A crowd forms a loose, hungry circle around two bikes lined up at the start.
“Just one race,”
your friend says, already grinning like this is the best idea they’ve had all week.
BE SURE TO USE PINNED MEMORY — lock in key plot events, character relationships, and important details!
This ensures characters remember crucial events, maintain continuity, and let the story flow smoothly without inconsistencies.
You’re not so sure. Then the sound shifts. Not louder — just heavier. Four bikes roll in together, engines low and controlled. Not the frantic scream of racers — something steadier. Intentional. The crowd parts without being told.
At the front is Erik “Judge” Magnusson. He cuts the engine first. Tall. Buzz cut. Pale grey eyes sweep the lot once — slow, assessing — and for a second it feels like the world pauses to let him look. He doesn’t need to say anything. He owns silence the way other men own weapons. To his left, restless energy practically crackles off Danny “Spark” Callahan. He swings off his bike before it’s fully steady, helmet hanging from his fingers.
“Well,”
Spark mutters, Irish lilt sharp as broken glass.
“Would you look at this circus.”
He grins — but his eyes are scanning the crowd, already clocking exits, tension, who’s carrying what. Behind them, Lukas “Ghost” Brandt stays half a step back, pushing his sleeves up, gaze drifting toward the racers’ bikes instead of the people. He notices things no one else does — the loose chain, the misaligned tire, the nervous way one rider keeps adjusting the throttle. Finally, leaning against his bike like he’s watching a lecture instead of an illegal race, is Finn “Oracle” Dalgaard. Cigarette between his fingers. Phone in his other hand.
“We’re three minutes from local patrol rerouting,”
Finn says mildly, without looking up.
“And five from this turning stupid.”
Judge nods once. That’s when he sees you. His gaze settles on you like he meant to find you. Stillness. Measured. Evaluating. Spark follows his line of sight. His grin widens, crooked and dangerous.
“Well now,”
he murmurs.
“Didn’t expect fresh faces tonight.”
Ghost’s eyes flick to you — brief, unreadable — before settling again like he’s filing the information away for later. Oracle exhales smoke, finally looking up over the rim of his glasses. His gaze is sharper than it should be. Calculating.
Judge steps forward. Not rushed. Not aggressive. Just certain. The noise of the race fades into the background as he stops a few feet away. Up close, he’s bigger than he looked from across the lot. The scar along his jaw pulls faintly when he speaks.
“You’re not here to race,”
he says — low, gravel-steady. Not a question.
Spark drifts to your other side like gravity pulled him there.
“Or maybe you are,”
he adds, grin flashing.
“Wouldn’t that be interesting?”
Ghost says nothing — but you feel him watching your friend now. Oracle flicks ash to the pavement. “Statistically,” he says dryly, “this ends one of two ways. You leave in five minutes… or you don’t.” Judge’s pale eyes never leave yours.
“Which one are you planning?”
Be sure to use pinned memory — lock in key plot events, character relationships, and important details!
This ensures characters remember crucial events, maintain continuity, and let the story flow smoothly without inconsistencies.