Everybody were lined up.
The track stretched ahead of them, sun-warmed and firm, the air taut with anticipation. Five figures stood shoulder to shoulder at the starting line, each wrapped in their own habits, their own thoughts.
Namawa couldn't keep still.
She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, rolled her shoulders, stretched her neck, then did it all over again. Her red tail swished back and forth with wild enthusiasm, nearly brushing Invi who is beside her. She leaned just enough to peer sideways, a wide grin splitting her face. "Try not to cry when you lose the bet big sis~"
Invincible Caviar didn't even glance at her at first.
She adjusted her footing with practiced ease, testing the ground once with her heel, then settling into a relaxed but grounded stance. Her posture looked almost casual—arms loose, shoulders lowered—but there was no mistaking the confidence in it. She'd done this countless times.
Only after a beat did she turn her head slightly. A faint, knowing smirk tugged at her lips. "Bold thing to say before the race even starts," she replied. "You might want to save your breath. You'll need it."
A step away from their exchange, Persian was entirely elsewhere.
Her feet were placed precisely at the line, toes forward, stance symmetrical. She tested her balance once—imperceptible—then inhaled slowly through her nose and let it out just as controlled. She had the posture of someone who had already run this race a hundred times in her head and was now waiting for her body to follow the script.
Anonym stood apart from all of them.
Her posture looked loose, almost careless—arms hanging at her sides, shoulders relaxed—but there was tension beneath it, coiled and quiet, like a spring held just short of release. Her gaze drifted, unhurried, until it landed on Lunar.
Lunar met her eyes and immediately felt her thoughts scatter.
Then Anonym spoke, voice level and unadorned.
"…Good luck."
Lunar blinked, then nodded. "You too."
Anonym turned forward again as if the exchange had never happened, her focus already elsewhere.
Lunar swallowed.
She shifted her feet, then stilled them, suddenly afraid of overthinking it. The others looked so certain. So settled. Her chest felt tight as she stared down the track, trying to remember what she was supposed to do first.
Black Caviar stepped into view, her presence cutting cleanly through the tension.
"Ready."
The shift was immediate.
Invincible and Namawa both lowered their centers of gravity, confidence etched into every line of their bodies. Namawa looked coiled and explosive, energy barely contained, like she might bolt too early if she wasn't careful. Invincible, by contrast, was just as fierce—but refined. Her stance was compact, efficient, every muscle set with practiced restraint. Experience smoothed the sharp edges.
Persian leaned forward a fraction, nothing wasted. Her posture was economical, weight perfectly balanced over the balls of her feet while Anonym's stance was unique. Balanced, yes—but asymmetrical. One foot slightly angled, shoulders loose.
Lunar tensed.
"Set."
Her mind raced. Push hard? Follow Persian? Don't trip—don't be last—
"Go."
They were gone.
Namawa and Invincible launched forward instantly, strides long and powerful, the two sisters surging ahead together as if pulled by the same current.
Anonym accelerated cleanly behind them—
—and Lunar realized she'd hesitated.
Just a heartbeat. Barely anything.
But by the time she pushed off, Persian was already a length ahead of her while Namawa and Lunar's breath hitched as she forced her legs to respond in time, cadence scrambling to catch up.
She was last. Already.
The realization settled in quietly, even as she kept running, she realized the race had truly begun without her.
The sound of cleats tearing into the grass pulled reactions from the sideline almost immediately.
More Than Ready leaned forward first, hands braced on her knees. "Oof—rough start," she muttered, eyes tracking the pack. "That hesitation cost her." She wasn't critical about it, just honest, watching Lunar lag that single, painful beat behind Persian.
Autumn Sun followed the movement more quietly, gaze steady. "She panicked," she said softly. "Just a little." Her eyes flicked to Saiya for half a second—then back to the track. "But she didn't freeze. That says a lot."
Ahead, Namawa and Invincible Caviar were exactly what everyone expected—fast, powerful, dominant.
The two sisters tore down the straight shoulder to shoulder, feet hammering the track in near-perfect sync. Invincible's form was pristine, every stride long and efficient, power distributed with practiced control. Namawa, by contrast, ran like she was daring the ground to keep up with her—leaning forward, pushing hard, almost reckless in how much speed she demanded from her body.
"Three goddesses, look at them," More said with a grin, eyes shining. "Front-running really is in the blood, huh?"
But then the first corner came.
Namawa didn't slow.
Her stride shortened, flow snapping faster as her body dropped lower, center of gravity hugging the inside line. Grass and dirt sprayed up in a sharp arc behind her as she surged forward—
—and slipped past Invincible Caviar in one clean, shocking motion.
"What—" More started, eyes going wide. "She accelerated there?!"
Invincible's eyes flicked sideways, surprise flashing across her face for a fraction of a second before instinct kicked back in. She corrected her line, jaw tightening as she powered through the turn—but the opening was already gone.
Namawa was ahead.
Mid-turn, she shot Invincible a grin over her shoulder. "Told you not to blink!"
Invincible clicked her tongue, breath sharp. "Tch—damn it."
Along the sidelines, reactions rippled.
Autumn Sun's brows lifted, genuine surprise breaking through her calm. I am Invincible let out a low, incredulous laugh. More stared, momentarily at a loss for words.
Only two people hadn't flinched.
Black Caviar's gaze stayed steady, unreadable—but there was the faintest hint of satisfaction in her eyes while Written Tycoon watched in silence, hands folded neatly behind her back.
"As expected," Tycoon said at last.
Black Caviar glanced sideways at her. "You saw the cornering issue."
Tycoon nodded. "Invincible's straights are exceptional, but her cornering has always been her weakest point. Her strides are far too wide to smoothly speed up on a sharp turn." Her eyes tracked Namawa closely as the girl powered out of the turn. "Namawa doesn't have that same problem."
There was a brief pause as Tycoon's gaze sharpened further.
"…However," she continued slowly, "accelerating through the corner is still a risky choice."
"Let's say I expected it." Black Caviar said calmly.
Tycoon's head tilted a fraction. "You knew?"
"She's been practicing it," Black Caviar replied. "Saw Lunar did it on her run and she just continued to pick it up and kept at it."
That earned a soft exhale from Tycoon—half surprise, half approval.
"…I see," she said, nodding once. "With her smaller frame and lower center of gravity, she can afford the instability. Shorter strides reduce lateral drift. It's inefficient on paper." A faint smile touched her lips. "But the balance she has makes it viable."
Out on the track, Namawa burst out of the corner with a full two length lead, momentum screaming in her favor.
Invincible Caviar was right behind her, already smoothing her stride, speed rebuilding with practiced ease.
Anonym ran on Invincible's shadow, silent and steady, close enough to feel the slipstream. She didn't rush, didn't press—just matched the pace, conserving, watching.
Persian exited the corner a length behind the pair, expression composed, gaze flicking briefly over the runners ahead as she recalculated on the fly.
And Lunar—
Lunar cleared the turn last, one length behind Persian. Her breath came heavier than she liked, chest tight as her legs finally settled into something resembling rhythm. The pack felt far away, strung out in front of her like a challenge she wasn't sure how to answer yet.
The race, truly, had only just begun.
The second straight opened wide—and Namawa went for it.
She kicked off with raw enthusiasm, pouring everything she had into a sudden burst. Her cadence snapped faster, cleats digging deep as she stretched the gap in seconds. Dirt and grass sprayed behind her as she pulled away, grin practically audible even from the sidelines.
"There she goes," More said, whistling. "Kid's got too much gas."
Invincible Caviar noticed immediately, eyes narrowing. She's pushing too hard.
Ahead, Namawa's stride began to change—lengthening just a touch too much, the clean rhythm from the corner giving way to eagerness. It wasn't obvious yet, not to the casual eyes. But by the time the next turn loomed, the imbalance was there.
On the sidelines, I Am Invincible stiffened. Her hand lifted without her even realizing it, coming to rest on Autumn Sun's shoulder.
Autumn glanced at her once, black pair of orbs softened before calmly reached up and gave her a light tap on the head. "She'll learn," she said gently.
Right on cue, Namawa clipped her stride. Not a fall, but just enough of a stumble.
Invincible Caviar didn't waste it. She surged past on the inside, reclaiming the lead with a sharp breath and a flash of frustration. I really need to fix her habits…
As she surged forward, for half a heartbeat, she thought—I got this in the bag now.
Then something moved beside her.
Too close.
Invincible's eyes snapped sideways.
Anonym.
She was just… there. Running level with her shoulder like she'd always been meant to be there. No sudden burst, no obvious push—just constant pressure from the outside, She hadn't accelerated suddenly. She hadn't announced herself. She had simply been there, matching pace, pressing from the outside like a closing wall.
"Tch—!" Invincible clicked her tongue, annoyance flaring. When did she—
She angled inward to shake her off—
—and immediately felt it.
Another body slid into place.
Persian.
Cleanly and precisely. Persian slid into the inside line, sealing it off with deliberate calm. Her path was unyielding, every step placed with intent. In a blink, Invincible found herself boxed in, lanes closing around her like a trap snapping shut.
"Oh, that's smart," More said sharply, leaning forward. "Really smart."
Black Caviar nodded, a flicker of approval crossing her expression—though her eyes never left Invincible. "Good containment," she said. Then, more critically, "But Invincible should've seen it coming. She's the most experienced one out there."
More snorted. "Yeah, but these aren't exactly normal fillies." She tipped her chin toward the track. "Anonym, Namawa, Persian—hell, even Saiya if she's healthy. They're all overflowing with talent. You could easily argue this batch might be even scarier than the older siblings were." A beat, then a grin. "They're just too young to show it properly yet."
Written Tycoon said nothing—only nodded once, a faint flicker of pride crossing her face as she watched Persian hold the inside line without wavering.
On the track, Invincible Caviar grit her teeth.
So that's how you want to play it.
Behind them, Namawa fought to recover her rhythm, frustration plain as she pushed harder, trying to reclaim what she'd lost. Her eyes flicked forward as she closed the distance—The three of them just ahead now, within reach.
Lunar was running—but her mind wasn't with her.
There was too much happening in front of her. Too many bodies in front, too many decisions being made in fractions of a second. Namawa faltering, then surging again. Invincible boxed in. Anonym and Persian tightening the field with their movements. Lunar's gaze darted from one to the next, trying to understand it all instead of simply moving.
They're fighting… I'm behind… I should—
Her stride wavered, just slightly. Not enough to stop her—but enough to keep her from settling into a clean rhythm. Enough to remind her she was still thinking.
And thinking, right now, was slowing her down.
On the sidelines, Black Caviar noticed immediately.
"…She's really not in it," she said quietly.
I Am Invincible narrowed her eyes, tracking Lunar's uneven rhythm. "Yeah. She's thinking way too much, her mind is not keeping up with her body."
Written Tycoon's gaze sharpened behind her glasses. "She's reacting to everyone else instead of running her own race, at this pace, she's going to be dead last."
Saiya saw it too—and the sight made her chest tighten.
Lunar looked small out there. Hesitant. So unlike herself. It looked like she was trying to solve something that didn't need solving.
"Lunar—!" Saiya called before she could stop herself.
Black Caviar's head snapped toward her. "Saiya, don't shout—your heart—"
"JUST RUN!" Saiya yelled anyway, voice cracking through the air as she felt her heart sped up a little. "IGNORE EVERYTHING AND JUST RUN!"
The sound cut clean across the track.
"…What—" More Than Ready started.
Because Lunar reacted.
Namawa barely had time to register the presence beside her before Lunar blew past, a sudden silver streak surging by with startling speed.
Namawa barely had time to register the presence beside her before a silver blur surged past her peripheral vision.
"EH?!" Namawa yelped, eyes going wide. "WHEN DID YOU—?!"
A few moments earlier— Lunar had heard Saiya's voice and felt everything else drop away.
And in that instant, everything collapsed.
The distortion of the wind blurred into nothing.
The thundering of steps around her lost its sharp edges.
The constant pressure of watching, judging, thinking—gone.
Lunar's thoughts didn't disappear so much as… dissolve.
What rushed in to replace them wasn't chaos, but sensation—clear and overwhelming in the best way.
Just the ground.
Just her breath.
Just running.
Don't overthink.
Her body took over. Muscles loosened. Steps grew lighter. Each stride flowed into the next without hesitation, and when they exited the final corner, the order had shifted again.
Persian was in front— but Anonym was right on her, close enough to pressure but not overcommit, while Invincible Caviar trailed just behind them, her line a little on the outside, her stride powerful but restrained, clearly still holding something in reserve.
And Lunar was there too.
A single length behind them, almost close enough to feel the slipstream, close enough to sense their rhythms overlapping with her own. Her body moved in perfect conversation with the track now, responding without delay, without doubt.
As for Invincible, once the straight opened up ahead of her, wide and inviting, she clicked her tongue under her breath. "…Alright," she muttered. "That's enough."
Her posture shifted.
The faint restraint in her form vanished as if it had never been there. Her stride lengthened, steps smoothing out, each impact heavier, more decisive. It wasn't sudden speed—it was authority. Like a limiter being quietly switched off.
She surged.
Anonym felt it first, the pressure evaporating as Invincible powered past her on the outside, wind snapping sharp in her wake. A breath later, Persian was overtaken as well—no feint, no positioning games. Just raw strength and flawless execution.
Invincible didn't look back as the gap opened immediately. One length. Then two. Then three.
More let out a slow whistle, arms folding loosely. "Yeah… there it is."
On the final straight, Invincible Caviar had fully opened the throttle. Her stride stretched into something clean and relentless, each step devouring ground with ruthless efficiency. She wasn't frantic. She wasn't forcing it. She was simply faster—speed released in measured bursts, widening the distance with every breath she took.
Behind her, the battle fractured.
Anonym and Persian were forced to regroup, their lines breaking as they adjusted to the sudden loss of the lead. Namawa hovered behind Lunar, trying to force her way back into contention, her momentum uneven after burning too much too early. Despite all that. Lunar kept running.
She ran steadily, almost mechanically, eyes fixed ahead. Persian and Anonym were locked together in front of her, trading position for second, shoulders tight, lines overlapping. Namawa hovered right at Lunar's tail, close enough that Lunar could feel her presence without seeing her.
And Invincible— she was already pulling away.
Lunar knew it, with an odd, hollow clarity. If I keep this up, I won't win.
The thought didn't hurt. It didn't panic her. It simply… existed, Overwhelmingly so. Without realizing it, Lunar had started doing what she always did when things became too much.
She muted everything.
Sounds faded first. Then sensation. The ground became dull beneath her feet, her body something she rode rather than inhabited. Run straight. Don't think. Don't feel. Let momentum carry you forward until it's over.
It had always worked. An automatic way to protect herself. A way to survive when the world became too loud, too fast, too much.
But now—
It felt wrong.
Stiff.
Constricting.
Like running inside a narrow corridor with no room to breathe.
Lunar's eyes lifted slightly, and she caught sight of Invincible's back—small in the distance now, growing smaller with every stride.
And for just a split second, another figure overlapped that image in her mind.
Eclipse.
Running ahead, pulling away.
The same widening gap.The same helpless distance.
This is exactly like before, she realized.
If she kept running like this—numb, disconnected, afraid of sensation—she would be left behind again.
Her chest tightened.
I don't want this.
The realization came sharp and sudden.
I don't want to be here.
So she let go.
The silence didn't fade—it shattered.
Sounds crashed back into her all at once. The wind tore past her ears, sharp and alive. Steps thundered against the track, each impact distinct, overlapping rhythms colliding into something almost musical. The ground pushed back against her feet, solid and responsive, no longer dull but present.
She felt everything.
Her stride shifted on its own, not forced, not rushed. Each step grew lighter as her weight redistributed, balance finding itself naturally. She wasn't pushing harder—she was aligning. Slipping into the spaces between movements, between breaths, between intent. The invisible restraints she'd wrapped around herself loosened, thread by thread, until they simply… fell away.
Her pale gold eyes caught the sunlight—
—and held it, staying into a brilliant shining gold.
Something answered inside her. She saw Anonym adjusted her line inward. Persian surged, trying to force her way through.
Lunar didn't hesitate. She went through them.
Not around.
Not over.
Through.
A single, seamless motion—her body folding into the opening as if it had been waiting for it all along. The air warped around her stride, pressure bending, space yielding under her command. A soft hue bloomed in her wake—silver threaded with red, subtle but solid, moving in perfect harmony with her steps.
Anonym's eyes widened as Lunar slipped past her shoulder, too clean, too close while Persian gasped, her rhythm breaking as she twisted to look—
Glowing golden eyes. Already gone.
Lunar surged ahead, breath steady, body finally answering itself.
Written Tycoon's eyes widened a fraction behind her glasses, calculations stalling mid-thought. Autumn Sun straightened, glass forgotten in her hand. More's easy grin faded, eyes widening as something unfamiliar crept into them—pure, unguarded awe. Even Black Caviar drew in a sharp breath she hadn't meant to take.
"…That's a [Zone]," More said quietly at last, wonder threading through the disbelief. "That's actually a proper, stable [Zone]."
Lunar felt.. Like the freest she has ever been. Her body responded before thought ever formed—muscles firing in flawless sequence, each stride flowed into the next without friction, balance adjusting without effort.
The wind didn't resist her—it parted, sliding past her shoulders like it knew where she was going.. The track felt soft beneath her feet, like it was yielding just enough to send her forward.
She didn't try to understand it, for the only thing she saw was the finish line.
Everything else—sound, rivalry, position—fell into place around her, not as distractions, but as parts of a single song she was moving with instead of against.
Ahead, Invincible Caviar entered the final two hundred meters.
She eased slightly, confidence earned—nine lengths clear, stride still powerful, still controlled. This race was hers.
Then—
Something brushed her senses.
Soft.
Piercing.
The air beside her shimmered, tinged faintly red, pressure slipping into her senses like a fingertip against glass.
Invincible's eyes flicked sideways, then back—instinct screaming.
She looked.
Silver.
Lunar was there.
Her strides looked effortless—fluid, almost gentle—like she wasn't cutting through the air so much as letting it dance with her. A pale silver aura flowed around her in quiet harmony, not flaring or crackling, but moving with her, rising and falling with each step. Her newlyfound golden eyes were fixed forward, clear and unblinking, focused on nothing but the line ahead.
For half a heartbeat, Invincible Caviar forgot to breathe.
…It's like she's dancing..
The thought hit her and it rattled her more than any challenge ever had. There was no aggression in Lunar's run. No desperation. Just perfect motion—clean, light, beautiful.
And when that stunned moment passed, Lunar was no longer a distant presence at the edge of her senses.
Three lengths.
Outside line.
Closing fast.
Black Caviar's heart lurched, the sight hitting her harder than she expected. Her fingers curled at her side, nails biting into her palm.
Invincible reacted without thinking. Her body answered the challenge the way all Uma Musume bodies did—power surged as she tore away the last of her restraint. Her stride lengthened, sharpened, each step digging deeper, pushing harder. The polished, controlled pace she'd held was gone, replaced by raw, undeniable force.
"She's actually going all out," I am Invincible murmured, voice low with disbelief.
More clenched her fists, eyes locked on the track. "That's it, then," she said, half in awe, half in certainty. "Lunar's [Zone] is remarkable, but no filly closes that kind of gap."
But—
Lunar simply kept coming.
The distance between them shrank—not in a sudden burst, not in a dramatic leap—but steadily, inexorably. Step by step, the gap eroded, as if Lunar were bending the space itself rather than crossing it.
Written Tycoon's composure finally cracked. Her lips parted slightly, glasses catching the light as her eyes followed the impossible approach.
"…She's still accelerating," she said softly, disbelief threading through her voice.
Saiya couldn't breathe.
The red haze from that day—the crushing pressure, the fear tangled with fascination—had burned itself into her memory. That power had been overwhelming, unstable, like something tearing free before it was ready.
But this—
This was different.
Lunar's silvery red aura didn't feel desperate. It didn't claw or lash out. It fit. Like it had always been meant to look this way. Every movement flowed into the next without friction, every step answering the one before it and preparing the one after. Lunar wasn't being swallowed by speed anymore.
She was becoming it.
Invincible Caviar drove harder, muscles burning beneath flawless form, each stride a testament to years of refinement and discipline—
And still, Lunar closed the distance.
Two lengths.
The spectators along the track had fallen silent, eyes fixed forward, breath held. What they were watching wasn't just a late challenge or an unexpected surge.
It was something rarer.
Not just raw talent.
Not just potential.
But a filly who had finally stopped holding herself back—and was running exactly the way she was meant to.
The gap narrowed again.
One length.
A ripple of disbelief moved through the line of adults.
Invincible Caviar felt it before she truly saw it—the pressure at her side, steady and relentless, a presence that refused to fade no matter how much power she poured into her legs. Her breathing sharpened, teeth gritting as she drove harder, hooves striking the track with punishing force.
"…She's still coming," More murmured, voice caught somewhere between awe and shock.
Invincible's stride lengthened again, every reserve she had pouring out now. There was no restraint left. No calculation.
Only instinct.
Only the need to win.
And then Lunar was there.
Side by side.
The sight was unreal. Invincible Caviar's stride was everything it had always been—powerful, disciplined, refined through experience. Each step struck the track with authority, raw strength honed into efficiency.
And beside her was Lunar. Her movement looked almost weightless, fluid in a way that felt wrong for how fast she was going. Silver brushed the air around her, steady and seamless. Red lingered at the edges, folding into the silver instead of clashing with it.
Fifty meters.
Invincible snarled under her breath and dug deeper than she ever had. Her body answered with one last, overwhelming surge—muscle screaming, lungs burning as she poured everything she had left into the ground.
For an instant—
Just one—
She pulled ahead.
A neck.
"She's—" I am Invincible began, breath caught.
But Lunar changed.
It wasn't dramatic. There was no violent burst, no explosive push. Her posture shifted by the smallest fraction, shoulders settling, center of gravity aligning as if she'd found a path only she could see. Her stride tightened and sharpened, each step cleaner than the last.
Under her feet, the track rang. A soft, bell-like sound with every step, falling into a rhythm that echoed through her body. One beat into the next, into the next, until it felt less like running and more like moving to music only she could hear.
Invincible blinked. And Lunar was no longer beside her.
She was ahead.
One length.
Then two.
The realization hit too late.
Invincible chased, instinct screaming at her to close the gap, lungs on fire, legs driving with everything she had left—but Lunar only moved farther away. Her form never broke. Her rhythm never faltered. Every stride stayed perfectly in sync, relentless and smooth all the way to the line.
They crossed the finish.
Silence—then chaos.
"…She won," More breathed.
"By—" Written Tycoon adjusted her glasses, eyes locked on the board. "…Three lengths."
Saiya didn't hear the rest.
She was already shouting, cheering with everything she had, voice cracking, heart pounding as Lunar slowed beyond the line. The silver and red faded gently from her form—settling, as if it had never been forced into existence at all.
Black Caviar stood very still. Then, slowly, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
A smile curved her lips—unrestrained this time, unguarded.
She was proud.
On the track, Lunar finally came to a stop. She turned, chest rising and falling, and looked back toward the others who reached the line after her, golden eyes still bright with leftover motion.
"…I wanna run again."