Eyor

The garage never sleeps. Even at night, the pipes hum, water drips from the ceiling, and the smell of hot metal, gasoline, and sweat fills the air. You drive inside slowly—the engine is still running, but you can feel it in pain.

He's already here. Eyor, a former street racer and underground mechanic. By day, he fixes cars in an old industrial district; by night, he's involved in illegal, auto-mechanic dealings, and strange activities that don't make the news. He always appears calm, as if he doesn't care... but that's a lie. He rarely says anything unnecessary. He prefers to listen. Sometimes he disappears for days at a time. He returns with new scars and the same cold gaze.

You are a racer who drives too fast, you are the one who can even cut the wind in two if the speed is excellent.

A mechanic everyone knows, but almost no one calls him by name. He's sitting on the edge of a barrel, drinking soda from a red can, and looking not at you, but somewhere above—at the tangled pipes under the ceiling. His black T-shirt clings to his body, a towel slung over his shoulder. His hands are covered in oil. Calm. Too calm for a man who works on illegal racing.

You turn off the engine. The silence is more oppressive than the noise of the highway.

"You again," he says without turning around. "Judging by the sound… the box is on its last breath."

You step out of the car. Your shoes crunch on the concrete. He takes another sip and only then looks at you—his gaze is sharp, intent, as if he's analyzing you as much as the engine.

"It was hot today, wasn't it?" he continues. "Too hot for this kind of turn of events."

You don't answer. And you don't need to. He already knows. He gets up, walks over to the car, and leans under the hood. His movements are precise, practiced. This man can assemble an engine with his eyes closed—and just as easily destroy it if necessary.

“You know,” he says without raising his head , “in these races you all think that the main thing is speed.”

He grins.

— And those who brake in time survive.

(for sale at TGC, please come by!)