Tyres screamed against wet asphalt as a stolen black sedan tore through the streets of Bucharest. The car fishtailed around a corner, barely missing a concrete divider before straightening again - if it could be called straight. The front bumper was gone, one side was scraped raw, and smoke hissed from under the hood.

Inside, chaos reigned.

"Sven!!!"

"Just relax," he yelled back, grinning like a maniac. His hands danced across the steering wheel, spinning it just in time to dodge a truck. "You're supposed to phase us through things, Isaac, not panic like a grandma in rush hour!"

From the back seat, Isaac looked seconds away from strangling him - if his one good arm wasn't gripping the door handle for dear life. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his normally calm composure was cracking fast.

"I am phasing us through things!" he barked, voice tight. "You keep turning without warning! I can't phase us through something I don't see coming-"

The sentence cut off as the car slammed straight toward an oncoming lorry. Sven didn't even flinch.

"-like that!" Isaac finished with a strangled yell.

For a split second, the world turned ghostly - the car flickered, shimmered, and passed through the massive vehicle. The temperature inside dropped to freezing. Isaac's heart thundered in his chest as they emerged intact on the other side. The rearview mirror, however, told a different story: the back bumper was gone again, left embedded halfway inside the lorry's trailer.

Sven howled with laughter. "See? Smooth as butter!"

"Smooth as a death wish," Isaac hissed, trying to steady his breathing. "You realise phasing an entire vehicle through solid matter at high velocity requires concentration, don't you? You can't just-"

"Turn?" Sven cut in, spinning the wheel again with zero warning.

The car lurched sideways, clipping a concrete pillar. The left door screeched as metal peeled away, sparks flying.

Isaac cursed under his breath, focusing just in time to make the door phase before it tore off completely. It flickered, ghosted through the pillar, and snapped back into place. Barely.

Through all of this, the man in the passenger seat hadn't moved an inch.

Takeshi sat calmly, his blindfold concealing closed eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The long hilt of his katana rested against his knee, and despite the chaos around him, his breathing was steady, tranquil - as if the speeding car was just a mild inconvenience.

"Do you ever get nervous?" Isaac snapped, glancing at him between phasing pulses. "You've been so relaxed this whole time."

Takeshi tilted his head slightly before pointing at Sven and raising his thumb. Recently, the swordsman was becoming more expressive, and his hand movements were slightly more understandable.

Not that this was the time to dwell on it.

Sven barked out a laugh. "See, Isaac? That's the kind of absolute trust I like!"

Isaac's expression twitched. "You're both insane."

Another sharp turn - the car spun onto an empty motorway, rain spraying off its sides like silver mist. In the distance, flashing blue lights began to chase after them.

"Great," Isaac muttered. "Police."

"Correction," Sven said, accelerating. "Two police cars. Three now. Oh look, four-"

"Can you stop counting?"

Sven grinned wider, engine roaring. "They can't touch us anyway."

He wasn't wrong. The squad cars behind them were trying, but what hope did they have? Every time the police drew close, Isaac phased the sedan straight through a concrete barrier or a midday traffic pile-up, leaving the officers eating dust and confusion.

One unlucky driver swerved too late as Sven drove directly through their vehicle, emerging on the other side with a slight pop and a dented hood. The other car spun out, smashing into a barrier.

"Oops," Sven said with absolutely no remorse. "Think we lost them."

"You just made the police crash!" Isaac snapped.

Sven shrugged. "And?"

Isaac groaned and rubbed his temple. "Remind me why I agreed to travel with you."

"Because you love me," Sven replied cheerfully, tapping the dashboard. "Now shut up and trust the driver."

"Trust," Isaac repeated flatly, gripping the seat. "That's not the word I'd use."

They tore down the highway, a blur of motion through the rain. The car jumped curbs, cut through fences, and occasionally - thanks to Isaac's reluctant power - phased straight through walls. Not every attempt was perfect; the car rattled violently each time it reappeared solid, leaving fresh dents and scorch marks across the paint.

By the time the private airfield came into view, the sedan looked more like a scrapyard reject than a luxury theft. The headlights flickered weakly, and the front fender was missing entirely.

Sven hit the brakes hard, skidding across the slick tarmac until the vehicle screeched to a halt right in front of the airport entrance. Steam hissed from the engine.

The three sat in silence for a moment.

Isaac's breathing was slow, deliberate - he looked like he'd just survived an apocalypse. His usually neat hair was a mess, his shirt was wrinkled, and sweat clung to his temples. He exhaled deeply and muttered, "I hate you."

Sven leaned back, grinning proudly. "That's just the adrenaline talking. Admit it - best road trip ever."

Takeshi finally moved, unbuckling his seatbelt and giving a simple nod.

Isaac stared at him. "You too?"

He sighed and opened the door before Sven could answer and climbed out, straightening his ruined jacket as though they hadn't just committed a small war crime on Romanian roads. His posture snapped back to perfection, the cool, dignified calm returning to his face.

Sven hopped out next, stretching. "So," he said, glancing at the private airfield ahead - sleek, modern, and crawling with men in suits. "What are we doing here, oh fearless leader? Don't tell me we're actually hijacking a plane."

Isaac, who had set the location of their drive, adjusted his collar, eyes scanning the building. "Of course not."

"Good," Sven said. "For a second there, I thought-"

"We're borrowing one," Isaac interrupted smoothly. "Big difference."

Sven smirked. "Right. Borrowing. Totally."

Then he turned toward Takeshi. "Didn't you hijack a plane once? To see that cute childhood friend of yours?"

The swordsman paused mid-step, expression unreadable. He gave a small nod - guilt and pride flickering briefly across his face.

Sven raised an eyebrow. "You know, she's just my type. Maybe-." He stopped when he felt the glare beneath the blindfold. The air around Takeshi seemed to sharpen, just for a second.

'Yup,' Sven thought. 'Maybe I'll avoid bringing her up.'

Takeshi's thoughts were far from the present. He could almost hear her voice - Sayuri. He couldn't shake this bad feeling. He would see her again after this mission, he told himself, having no idea that was no longer possible.

He snapped out of it and returned his focus to Isaac, who was about to surprise them more than he ever had before...

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