The city never truly slept.

It only changed the kind of noise it made.

Four cars cut through the thinning late-night traffic like they belonged to a different world entirely—burgundy and gold, matte crimson, bright red, and monochrome—holding formation as the roads stretched longer and darker toward the outskirts. Engines low and steady. Voices easy over the open channel. The night already tasted of petrol, rubber, and the promise of another illegal blaze of youth.