Dr. Zlo hopped into his Zlomobile, but not before checking out the other racers. There were ten racers in all, the perfect number for a race. Out of the corner of his eye, Dr. Zlo spied Valiant. The hero waited next to a futuristic car, the edges a metallic chrome that reflected the arena's white LED light. He sat in the final position behind a coffin-shaped wagon driven by a wizened old man in robes. A pitch coat of paint covered the coffin, purple magics shaped like skulls swirling around it. Periodically, the ghoulish heads would dive into the coffin and re-emerge, wailing with open jaws.

In front of the coffin sat a clown car, the inside filled to the brim with clowns. Dr. Zlo raised an eyebrow at that, the sight of its polka dot paint job clashing with the dark coffin. Dylan guessed they were someone in Menagerie invited by Dextra; it didn't seem likely that a faction leader dressed as a clown. Of course, there were stranger things in this world, so who could say. The clown car honked as Dr. Zlo looked over it, the players inside waving at the villain as he watched the competition. Dr. Zlo smirked and threw back his head haughtily. Clowns were no match for Dr. Zlo!

The next racer in line was a man standing on a motorized skateboard. Dr. Zlo scoffed. As if a measly skateboard would win this race, even if the board had flames painted on the wheels. That didn't stop the paranoid Dr. Zlo from giving the man a once over. The villain wasn't about to lose because of unknown information. The man holding the board dressed like a skater punk, tattoo sleeves of skulls running under the man's graphic shirt. A flaming eye helmet rested on the man's head, staring at the sky above.

Booming bass pounded across the arena, bringing everyone's attention to the arches leading outside. Dr. Zlo turned to see a modified truck, the bed replaced with various speakers that pounded out tunes. It made its way through the stone arches and into the arena proper, bass shaking the ground. The man driving nodded his head to the beat, ignoring the outside world as he pulled into his spot in front. Dr. Zlo plugged his ears as the truck moved past, a scowl on his face. The sound dimmed a moment later, the racer stepping out of the vehicle to wave at the crowd.

"Showoff," Dr. Zlo scoffed.

The villain stepped over to the driver's seat and opened the door, gesturing for Cass to move back over.

"Gee boss, that guy sure knows how to make an entrance," Cass commented as he awkwardly shuffled over.

"He dares to stand out more than I," Dr. Zlo growled. "We'll have to teach him a lesson."

"Are you sure, boss?" Cass asked. "He looks dangerous."

Cass eyed the racer driving the stereo system on wheels, taking note of the man's thick muscles and the integrated speaker system on his jacket. Someone like that was bound to be difficult.

"Don't think for a second that these pitiful racers can hold a candle to me!" Dr. Zlo growled.

"Of course not, boss!" Cass agreed hastily. "I was only trying to look out for you."

"Cass, as much as I appreciate your help in physical matters. Leave the thinking to me," Dr. Zlo berated.

Cass looked away with a sad frown, "Right."

Dylan couldn't help but smile as Cass looked away. He and Cass were the perfect villainous duo for this race. The overconfident and devious leader with the more level-headed but obedient follower. Now all Dr. Zlo had to do was explain an overly complicated plan to Cass for the "audience" to hear and ultimately fail.

His smile spreading ear to ear, Dr. Zlo sat down in the Zlomobile and revved the engine. "Get ready for a systems check, Cass," the villain ordered.

Cass sat a bit straighter, "Ready, boss!"

Dr. Zlo moved a hand over the various buttons and switches attached to the steering wheel, each a weapon or trick added over the past few days. Dylan had brainstormed with his minions over the period, using the full capability of the extra modification space designed in the Zlomobile. He'd started with simple additions, like a gun that fired his adhesive, but moved on to more exotic additions as time went on.

Quartet brought up the idea of adding sound weapons, while Brunhilde suggested a more grounded series of explosives. Dr. Zlo went with Brunhilde's suggestion. He had to snub Quartet to keep the minion's ambition at the forefront, so the minion kept wanting to usurp him.

Cass and Mabel suggested weapons that were more closely aligned to Dr. Zlo's image, most likely because they had been around for longer. Cass figured Dr. Zlo should add laser headlights that resembled his monocle. Mabel first made a rather crass suggestion but switched it up a moment later by stating Dr. Zlo should find a way to launch minions at enemies.

The idea was ridiculous enough that Dylan had to go with it, and thus the Jacques-a-pult was born. The new device fired shrunken Jacques at targets, the minions enlarging once they reached the apex of their journey. Later on, Dylan realized the whole thing was one big raining men joke, but it wasn't like Dr. Zlo could remove the weapon. At least not until he used it.

"How are we looking on adhesive?" Dr. Zlo asked.

"The tank is one-hundred percent full!" Cass replied.

"And the laser batteries?"

"Main batteries at full, and the spares are ready to charge."

"And the Jacques-a-pult?"

"Twenty shrunken minions are waiting in the compartment for firing."

Dr. Zlo steepled his fingers, "Excellent. With these weapons and my ingenious traps, nothing will stop us from winning this race!"

"I hope so," Cass whispered. "I'm not ready to be roadkill."

"Racers, are you ready?" Dextra asked.

Dylan looked up at the booth where his friend stood. He'd ignored most of what Dextra said after announcing the prize, Dr. Zlo uninterested in Dextra's vendetta against the gods. Mostly, it was Thomas trying to convince the invited factions to join up in asking for player-voted balance positions.

Admittedly, Dylan had started to lose some interest in the war against Vert. His initial reason for joining was because the company took away the freedom they'd advertised. But now that time passed, Dylan realized Vert might have been right in stopping him. At least, they were right to stop him to make sure they didn't break the game.

Of course, they wouldn't have had to stop Dr. Zlo if they didn't make the story so scripted. If the mothership was like his Zloppelin, Dr. Zlo could take it, use it for a bit, and then curse the heroes as they destroyed it. And really, that was what Dextra was fighting against.

Of course, Dylan didn't mind the odd hiccups in his game, as long as he got enjoyment out of it. Still, he understood where someone like Dextra was coming from. Players wanted the company to deliver on their promises. When they didn't, it caused more complaints than anything Dylan had seen outside of politics. Dextra was one of those few that actually tried to do something instead of complaining.

Dr. Zlo looked out the windshield of his Zlomobile, revving the car's engine as he listened to Dextra finish up. He took note of the various racers around him, each one prepping in their own way. He checked his mirror to see Valiant at the back, eyes scanning the competition much like Dr. Zlo did. The villain wondered what the hero had under the hood and if it could compete with his invention.

Shizuka walked out onto the racetrack, dressed in a ninja outfit straight out of a bad anime. Dylan remembered the player had volunteered for the position, the woman mentioning something about "racing flag girls."

"What a crass outfit," Dr. Zlo commented. "That ninja has no appreciation for style."

"I dunno, boss," Cass said, staring intently at the player as she strutted between the cars. "She's getting everyone's attention."

Dr. Zlo slapped Cass on the arm, "Don't get distracted!"

"Sorry, boss."

Dr. Zlo kept his eyes on the flag in Shizuka's hand, the woman holding it steady as she made her way to the front. He saw Jack gag as Shizuka walked past, the ninja rolling her eyes at the antic. She winked at Oro as she continued, the golden man flexing in response.

"Look at all of them," Dr. Zlo sneered.

"Oh, I'm making sure to keep an eye on them, boss," Cass answered. The butler pulled out a pair of binoculars, using them to stare at the lead racers. Dr. Zlo snorted.

Shizuka turned as she reached the front, whipping the start flag high into the air.

"Racers!" She yelled. "Start! Your! Engines!"

The flag shot downward, and the race was on.

Dr. Zlo slammed his foot on the gas pedal, a manic grin spreading over his face. The Zlomobile rocketed forward, kicking up dirt as it launched itself at the arches. The other racers matched the start, their engines a cacophony of echoing sound. Cheers erupted, drowning out the roaring engines.

"Mabel, I hope you're ready!" Dr. Zlo shouted into his communicator.

The cars shot forward, each one unique. The lead car, the bass-pounding truck, boomed ahead, sound vibrations shaking the ground around it as a deafening techno song reached Dr. Zlo's ears. Sweet Dream followed. Her candy contraption spewing a sugary cloud of cotton candy as it worked overtime. Licor-Icks rushed around, smacking chocolate on joints as soon as it melted. Oro and Dr. Zlo were next, the two racers neck and neck as they shot out of the arena and into the streets of Skyline.

Dr. Zlo looked out of his rearview mirror as he left the arena, catching racers behind him as they zoomed after the lead car.