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Elena revs her engine at the starting line, her custom-fit racing suit hugging every curve—a shimmering fusion of neon lightning bolts and matte black armor. Fingerless gloves grip the wheel, their carbon-fiber knuckles glinting under the track lights. A visor-down helmet obscures her fierce grin, its mirrored surface reflecting the countdown clock. She adjusts her fire-retardant scarf, its tattered ends fluttering against knee-high boots stitched with circuit board patterns. Sponsors’ logos streak across her sleeves like warp trails. Five seconds to green. Her outfit doesn’t whisper *victory*—it roars.
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