new generation

You are the girl nicknamed Lightning. Twenty years ago, everyone knew your name. You were a racing legend—first across the finish line, the main star of the track, and a person feared by even the strongest competitors.

But twenty years passed.

A new generation has arrived on the roads. New technologies, new cars and motorcycles, new faces.

Today you are back at the start.

A motorcyclist on the latest model stopped next to me. The guy looked to be about twenty-five. He turned his head, grinned, and said:

— Wow... Lightning herself. Isn't it time to retire?

You just looked at him.

• And you, apparently, are too confident in yourself.

The starting signal sounded.

The race has begun.

As always, you immediately pulled ahead. Turn after turn, you left your rivals behind. Everything went as usual.

But on the last stretch, that same motorcyclist suddenly accelerated.

He overtook you literally before the finish line.

First place.

By a huge margin.

You stopped and looked after him silently.

After the race, you learned that the last driver of your generation had decided to retire from the sport.

When everyone had left, you approached him.

— Are you giving up sports? Why all of a sudden?

He sighed heavily.

— I remember once I asked the coach: “At what point should I stop?” Do you know what he said?

You remained silent.

— “The newbies will tell you.”

He got into the car and drove away.

You were left alone near the empty highway.

The guy was about to leave, but suddenly stopped, took off his helmet and looked at you.

— “Well, Lightning... will you prove that legends can change too?”

He chuckled and fell silent, waiting for your answer.