"You buying?" asks the bored clerk.

Ariadne isn't listening. She scowls at the display case. "Look at this thing, Enoch. How is it a dragon? It's barely a shark. Crux should have called it Shark's Breath."

"Shark's Breath doesn't sound dangerous. Unless you're underwater, I guess," Enoch says. At his side, Marcus studies the case.

"Exactly! While my dragon has been legally recognized as cool." Ariadne points to the gleaming crimson dragon painted along the side of her Sparrow. "No contest."

"Could be a contest," Marcus says. He looks to the clerk. "Do you do samples?"

Ariadne's eyes light up.

Twenty minutes later at the City's outskirts with waivers signed, Enoch hoists the rocket launcher onto his shoulder. Its shark's face grins at Ariadne.

"You can do it," says Didi. She and Ghost hover above the group, ready to record.

"Ari, you get five seconds head start so you'd better gun it," Marcus says. "And… Go!"

Ariadne's Sparrow screeches away as Enoch counts, fires, and lowers the rocket launcher.

"You really think this is a race Gris can win?" Enoch asks. The rocket arcs towards her, bright in the sky.

Marcus leans in and claps his shoulder.

"Not a chan—"

A ball of flame rises from the landscape as the rocket impacts the Sparrow.

"Now that's cinema," Didi says, satisfied.