Swirls of smoke, over time, in moments short on time, began to pervade in the musty air. In a span of mere minutes the entire parking space had turned to a literal biohazard site unsuitable for any forms of life.

That's what a short practice run had done to the overall atmosphere.

The number of carcinogens swarming the air, the overpowering stench of burning rubber that even the air-conditioning couldn't filter out. Skid marks. Long, long blackened trails of tire patterns smeared against the concrete.

A complete disaster zone would be describing short the utter devastation we've afflicted upon the scene.

That's not even mentioning the many fissures and cracks forming along the walls with every substantial impact it sustained as a result of some poor last-second turning or perhaps forgetting to even turn at all, maybe throw in also a few instances of mishandling the brake pedal.

Add all those up and you got herself a miniaturized bulldozer with enough horsepower to potentially crumble the entire building itself to bits if given enough time.

Alas, time… there simply wasn't any more time to spare. That small margin of error Ash had had all but expended. Anymore… another bump, another missed turn… I couldn't take another mistake, I don't think.

Driving in reverse was one thing, driving the normal way… it was like trying to learn how to walk when all you've ever done in your life was jump. Meaning to say, how were you supposed to know you could put one foot over the other as opposed to just raising them both?

One more lap, four corner turns, brake, shift, and go… Ash battered the procedure in her mind with incessant rapid mutters. Every lap so far has always shown improvement over the last.

Small, minute improvements albeit, but improvements nonetheless. Sharper turns, more control, a foot lightly against the pedal... all she needed was just a bit more refinement.

First turn was approaching fast - she was approaching it too fast. Ash swerved, turned, the squealing of tires bouncing across the walls as it has so many times before - always as well ending with another roaring crash as we spiraled into another pillar.

That did not happen this time.

Second turn, second swerve, Ash's gaze remained focused and unblinking, her jaw clenching tight - too early, too tight this time. We scraped against the concrete, the car shook violently, a jarring grating screech of metal… in spite of it, it was only that, just a scrape.

Third turn. Third of the way there. Her hands remained firm on the wheel, my faint gasps of breath in time with her heavy breathing, the next turn always threw her off, always sent us spinning… I clutched the bottom of my seat, bracing for the worst.

The worst never came. I relaxed my grip.

The fourth turn. The last. The home stretch. In the grand scheme of things, one more turn didn't seem like much - but right then I wasn't thinking about the grandness of it all. To me, just one more successful turn would have made all the difference in the world.

On approach, ingrained into her memory already, Ash spun the wheel a hard right, a foot off the gas, and only brief taps on the brake. Turn after turn, it's been only that.

Mistakes happen sometimes, other times she executed the method flawlessly without a hitch. The second turn adhered to the former. First and third luckily went along with the latter.

Fourth… well, it was just one of those times, I suppose. Sometimes… you'll just end up getting the sometimes.

The cause for it, I didn't know. It could have been anything. Too hard of a brake maybe, too right of a turn… either way, the back wheels skidded, screeched and all momentum gained lost in the fleetest of moments.

Car came to a standstill only mere meters from making contact with another slab of concrete. The engine, humming, whirring, persevered with a rumble. Blinker lights carried on illuminating brightly the path ahead of us. Nothing impaired us from continuing forth, I still thought we were prepared for any and all happenings - but somewhere within a bright pair of emerald eyes, a resolve was flickering.

Breath. Deep Breath. Ash's frustrations were as clear to see as a cloudless, stormless sky. What was affirmed and solidified within her thoughts… she'd never admit to it, she'd never permit herself to let it show.

Regardless, it still showed.

'I'm unable'

Even through the pain and fatigue, I could still so easily hear what was never spoken. She was just easy like that. I wasn't worried about it. Because in the end, thoughts were only just that - thoughts. So brief and fleeting. Resolve, on the other hand, resolve was as firm and strong as the person that has it. So swaying it, swaying her, it was going to take a lot more than just a few bumps.

A flicker was just a flicker.

It was time. Whatever she has learned so far, it was time to show for it. Improvements, mistakes alike, it'll just have to do.

Ash slowly drove us into position, fronting the exit of the parking lot, a steep incline leading to the surface, where the blight continued to pour and splash in a tumultuous echo.

"Home," Ash muttered, setting her gaze on me. "We'll set a course for home. We can only hope that it is far from the vicinity of the Blightfall. Is that okay with you?"

I nodded.

"To accomplish this, we'll have to navigate through the storm," She continued, her voice growing tense. "There will be no walls, no thick layers to shield from the Blightfall. You will feel to the fullest extent the effects it'll have on you as we make haste for home. You understand this?"

Another nod.

"I cannot stress enough that you keep its sway on you to a minimum. You must not let it overwhelm your being. Before you were ill-prepared… now… now you have ample time to brace yourself. Keep your lips sealed, keep your mind clear, and resist the growing impulse to scream. Resist, Master - it is crucial you do this. Any more voices… I don't think you'll..."

She trailed away. She didn't need to finish it, I already knew. She was easy like that.

My lips were going to stay close no matter what, and I intend to keep it that way the best I could. But in the event - say… I wasn't able to do just that, if more screams, voices, came to replace my own… I just needed her to know.

"Whatever… it is... I'll say…" I whispered to her. "I don't… mean it."

But she already knew. I was easy like that.

"I know."