Snippet #2454553

Speed.
Speed is the key.

Once this had been figured out, it was merely a matter of busting down some doors and running fast and free into the whole wide world; down busy roads and through narrow streets, across flat plains and open prairies, going under and over all manner of obstacles, refusing to turn, refusing to move around, to take the easy way, to take the slow-and-steady ride -- a straight line is the fastest route, and the only thing that will ever do.
Breaking down barriers, leaping above limits -- to focus solely on challenges and goals with no ends, to beat the unbeatable and then race far beyond it all...exploring without seeing, for all that's really needed is a sense of movement, and for that movement to be the fastest of all.

This is the key -- /his/ key, to the lock on /his/ life.
That lock has been gone for such a very long time, and the key to it has long been lost, left behind in the face of lacking necessity.
But it hasn't been forgotten -- what it all stands for, what it all /means/, is floods the very pores of his muscle memory.
And now he can finally take some time to forever run the width of worlds, with nary a pit stop in sight.

He's confident, extremely confident, that no one could ever beat him.
No one is faster than him, he's sure of that -- but that doesn't stop him from issuing challenges, to anyone who dares to cross the path of his one-lane street of speed.
It would be inevitably boring, to have nothing more to strive for; despite his love for the act of running, for the feel of motion, that alone would not be enough to provide him with an ideal life.
He needs the presence of others, specifically those who are up to the challenge of beating he who is the fastest of all.
Thus, he must continue to raise the bar, to force every last slice of difficulty to go higher and higher, harder and harder.
Daring danger, he'll run the risks, all of them, and never once miss a beat, never once lose his footing.

There's no room for mistakes, no time for missteps...all there is to do, is go!

Hopping down the highway at a leisurely one hundred kilometers per hour, the tall structures and bright lights of a city are at last coming into view.
Grinning widely, ecstatic with the thought that he will finally be seeing some strange sights of civilization, he rushes to pick up the pace, becoming but a small streak of vivid red zooming over a broad line of dull gray, heading swift and careless on his hasty way, neither heeding nor warning whatever or whomever may already be on the road.