The third race would start later in the day, so during the early morning, James and Gunther went to the holoracer to train on some special tricks that Gunther had to give to his protege.  Gunther admitted that while there were few true tricks in F-Zero, there were nevertheless a few to learn that would help in the upcoming last two races.
James spent the next several hours trying to hone and perfect certain maneuvers, such as sliding on the inbound, judging the right opportunity to bash into opponents, particularly when boosting, and so forth.  At the very least they were tactics that were a lot safer than the one he had tried before.  Somehow they felt less exciting to James, and he still didn't truly see the error of what he had done, confident enough of his skills as it was.  But since the rather awkward argument last night which he tried to forget, he just shut up and let himself be taught.
Soon it was an hour away before the third race began, and the two drove over with James once again being placed in 8th position.  The third racetrack was an area in the sky itself, apparently the old Mute City circuit that the professionals no longer used but was still open to the amateur racers.  It was an elevated racetrack with sharp turns and quite a way up, meaning there was less room for error.  Especially on the parts that didn't have barriers.
	"Jesus, this is kind of deep end shit isn't it?" said the raptor.
He gazed over the edge, seeing the crowd in stands on platforms waiting for the races to start.
	"Do not focus on the height," replied Gunther, "focus on the road ahead only, especially any areas without the barriers.  You realise you must be a lot more careful with the skills here, right?"
	"Yeah man, I know."
	"And remember, if you can take down someone safely, then fine, but if there is ANY risk-"
	"Don't do it, yeah I know."
	"Okay.  Good luck James."
And with that the race began soon began, with James seeing the position of his new rival in the Flame Sword, who was in 4th place.

Seeing as his opponent was the most skilled of all the other racers, he knew he had to take him down early as possible, but only on the 2nd lap after he got a layout of the land.  As the racers shot off the starting line, James kept a wary eye like everyone else did on the track.  Remembering corners, sliding carefully, noting areas he'd be able to get away with attacking his opponent in and areas that were unsafe for anything but racing on, all while occasionally watching his rival.
Soon the 2nd lap came up, and he boosted onwards past the other opponents when he had the chance, pushing onwards to face him, seeing he was in 1st place again.
	"We meet again, motherfucker!" roared James through his windshield to deaf ears as the two battled it out.
The commentator picked up on this swiftly.
	"And we see the Dire Rock lagging behind slightly in 7th place an-wait a minute...folks, looks like our two rivals are at it again, the Grand Finale versus the Flame Sword, this is truly looking to be a long-standing firefight between these two racers."
The two kept their eyes on the road until they passed a sharp unprotected corner to make it to a safer barrier-filled stretch of road before they clashed, bashing away at each other.  The Flame Sword pulled a few tricks of its own with precise spinning techniques that surprised James, but he countered back with his occasional slowing down to ram him from behind at an angle, trying to fishtail him like he saw in old cop movies.  Sadly the same principle did not work on an F-Zero racer, but it did throw the Flame Sword racer off slightly.
	"Grand Finale and Flame Sword are hammering away at each other like nobody's business, they don't even seem to care about anything than smashing each other into bits!  Who will make first place in the next two laps!?"

Whenever they had a chance to bash each other without risking their own life, they did, avoiding unprotected turns and smashing against the barriers with screeching sparks.  James did at one point estimate he could ram the Flame Sword off a sharp turn, but considering if he missed he would throw himself off, he relented, trying to remember to be cautious.  Eventually he couldn't do well enough in deterring the Flame Sword as he reached 2nd place, with his opponent ahead of him.  While it felt not a great victory for him, Gunther came up with the heartiest smile in the world.
	"HAHAA!  Good work James!"
	"What do you mean, I didn't get first!"
	"But you are still alive!  You have one more race, it's a much better track than this with better chances of striking at him.  I am just glad you took my advice."
	"Wasn't just your advice," he murmured to himself.
	"What?"
	"N-nothing...uh...so what now?"
	"Well you are still ahead in points but only by a tiny bit.  Flame Sword will have a chance of beating you if he stays in first place the next race, the final one."
	"Then we better make sure he doesn't."
And with that, the two drove off together, with James still not managing to catch a site of the Flame Sword's racer, hoping one day that he would.  Preferably beneath him on the winner's podium.
	"You were making quite the show of yourself with him, junge James."
	"Whatcha mean?"
	"Well the commentator was talking all about the clash you two had."
	"Hah, seriously?"
	"Of course, rivalries make great television!"
	"Huh...well it'll end soon that's for sure."
	"I know you will make a great racer someday James.  You already have the will for speed and the bravery to control it, to wield it like a weapon and a shield!"
	"Now you make me sound like some kind of hero."
	"Haha, no no no, I am just saying."
	"Hmmm...so...what now?"
	"Well, unless you want to train up more, we can just go home."
	"Nah I'm good.  Let's just get some rest.....maybe watch a li'l Colonisation Street?"
	"Ja!"

After a rousing little night of soap operas and a hearty sleep, the two woke up to enter the last of the local races in a place that was more down to earth, literally.  This one however was an actual main road, not a back street.  A motorway specially closed off for the races that twisted and turned quite well along a specific strait of it, as well as some gaps to jump over.  They even purposefully removed parts of the road which could be reattached later, just for the extra challenge.  Before they started however, there came a special announcement.
	"And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome a VERY special guest to open this li'l local race of ours, the one and only great Blue Falcon himself!  Yes, he IS here tonight folks, just for us!  Captaaaaaaain FALCOOOOOOOON!"
A huge rousing cheer from the crowd as well as some of the racers themselves came to greet the tall muscular blue-suited man who strided onto the stage with a microphone.  James recognised him immediately from the popped collars.
	"Hey, that's the douchebag from the beercan!"
	"HAH!" crowed Gunther.  "That is the greatest F-Zero racer in the world boy, you would do wise to respect him."
The crowd eventually dwindled down when the champion racer, who wore a luxurious looking belt around his waist, spoke out on the mic.  His voice was strong and American, like some an old comic book super hero.
	"Thank you, thank you.  Good to be here supporting the local racers in my downtime.  I just wanna say, good luck to all of you, I'll be up with the commentator looking out for any potential in this race.  Now show me your moves!"
And with that the cheering came up again as Captain Falcon strided to the commentator box, with James just looking at him incredulously.
	"Jeez, ego much?"
	"Now James, he's a pillar of the community."
	"Really?  In what, sponsorships?"
	"He's a nicer guy than you think, do not let the collar put you off, now focus on the race."
Nodding, he closed the cockpit and got ready to race, scoping out Flame Sword in the positions before they were ready to go.  Soon the races began and to a much louder crowd than before, James blasted off towards his rival, scoping out the road, judging all the right places to confront him on.
	"And the race has begun!  Now we'll see if any of these guys have the potential to catch the falcon's eye, huh?"
	"Sure can, I see a few down there with some good skills for non-professionals."
	"And I think Captain Falcon will be intrigued by the Grand Finale and Flame Sword's bitter rivalry that's been occurring since the second race onwards."
	"Flame Sword?"
	"Yep, currently crawling up to 2nd place right now with Grand Finale catching up around 5th."
	"Hmmm..."

As Captain Falcon eyed the two vehicles curiously on the cameras, James was keeping his memory sharp on the road, a four-lap circuit and the longest of them all, with at least three gaps to jump over with all barriers throughout.  This was a much better place to duke it out, just as Gunther said as the 2nd lap came some time later and he boosted up past one position to 2nd place, right alongside Flame Sword.  Much to his surprise however, someone blurted out to him from the communicator in the vehicle, a rather vicious snarling voice.
	"So, you think you can beat me little lizard?"
	"Wha...finally I hear the voice of the Fuck Sword."
	"Just be glad I'm not using my own vehicle, or you'd be DEAD!"
	"But I AM, so bring it on you piece of shit."
And so the battle began, the two smashing into each other relentlessly with James at first being aggressive with little spinning and plenty of bumping, trying to smash Flame Sword into the barriers to scrape his shield right down.  But it always managed to slip away from him just before he could seriously damage it.  The commentator was eating it up.
	"Well there ya go Captain Falcon, there's our two racers now, battling it out head to head!  I tell ya I never seen rivalry that fierce since you and Samurai Goroh!"
	"Well these two certainly got a lot gunning for each other.  What's the racer's names?"
	"Well lessee, Grand Finale put himself down as Li'l Rex, and the guy in the Flame Sword's called himself Big Rax."
	"Somehow I think this is turning out to be a race of the rexes more than anything else."
	"You said it there, Captain."
Halfway through the third lap the two still kept at each other, trash talking via the communicator in fury.
	"I WON'T LOSE YOU FUCKING SHIT!" roared James.
	"You arrogant little BITCH!  You wanna see my face!?!?"
	"Oh you better fucking don't cuz if I do, I'm gonna find you in the crowd and RIP IT RIGHT UP YOUR-"
And then the face of the other driver showed up on the communicator.  It turned James rather pale with a natural instinct of initial fear.  The dark green arrogant snout of Bio-Rex.
	"You were saying?"
	"...fffuck...Well...w-w-well-"
	"Well...WHAT!?"
Bio-Rex slalomed into him from the side during his moment of panic, throwing James into nearly the wrong direction but also waking him up.

	"ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT!  I'm not scared of you, you fucking shitscale!  I'M GONNA RAPE YOUR ASS!"
	"You ain't even good enough for me to shit on!"
	"FUCKHEAD!"
	"WALLCRAWLER!"
The raptor brutally bashed sideways with a spin attack into Bio-Rex, throwing him off target and into a wall unexpectedly, but he countered back as they grinded hard against each other, seeing whose shield would run out first.
	"GIVE UP BITCH," screamed the raptor, "I'M WINNING THIS RACE!"
	"I'LL BREAK YOU SO HARD THEY WON'T EVEN PIECE TOGETHER A FOSSIL OF YOU!"
Thankfully nobody could hear any of this as they almost reached the final lap, but then Bio-Rex pulled out a nasty little trick.  Typing something into his computer, he brought out a small blue wand from the side of his vehicle, somewhat underneath that nobody could see.
	"Playtime's over, Li'l Rex."
With his secret weapon, he rammed once more into James, but this time it was accompanied by a furious electrical blast to his machine.  Even if it was more or less just to destabilise the vehicle, it caused an adverse effect in James himself.  The electricity was somehow more painful to him than to a normal person, feeling as if he'd been wrapped up in electrified barbed wire.  His knuckles turned white on the steering, screaming as he lost control of his vehicle more than he should.  The voltage shuddered through his body, feeling as if he was on fire, lava-like heat burning through his veins.
	"A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-AAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHH!"
He couldn't stop himself spinning around, he slalomed towards one of the gaps and flew over a barrier, off course and into a street, crashing into one building horrendously enough to make a hole in one corner of it.  He landed hard on the streets as he rolled over and over, before he finally hit a solid foundation, screeching shortly across the ground until it stopped.
The crowd gasped with horror at the crash, the vehicle starting to slowly burn as an emergency team rushed onto the scene.  The commentator was shocked and struggled to control his voice.
	"L-ladies and gentlemen I...wow, that is one hell of a crash, and yet I dunno what happened beyond Flame Sword bashing him good enough.  Unfortunately the Grand Finale...well, that's an appropriate name though I wish it wasn't...but it's now...disqualified."
James started to black out slowly, his body wracked with intense pain throughout his joints, burning violently inside him from the volts.  He could hear Gunther crackling over the communicator.
	"JAMES!  JA- - - - -OU ALRIGHT!?!?  ANSWER ME!"
	"I...ah..."
	"JAMES, HANG O- - - - -ELP IS O- - - -WAY!"
	"I can't...my legs...oh f-...it-...aaagh..."
	"JUST HANG ON!"
He soon blacked out from the intense pain, feeling the fire slowly warm his body up to an uncomfortable level.

The next time he awoke, he found himself in a clinical-feeling room, propped up on a bed.  Looking blearily around him, he saw his arm hooked up to a small machine that monitored his vital functions, moaning weakly at the light above that blinded him.
	"Nnnngh..."
	"Ah....J-james?"
	"mmmgunther?"
	"I'm here James...are you okay?"
	"I...am I in hospital?"
	"Yes you are.  The crash was pretty nasty.  You had your legs trapped but we managed to save them."
	"Ah...a-a-are they okay?"
	"Yes, you can still walk and run thankfully.  They said you were very lucky, had you rolled a few feet more your legs would have been crushed they estimated."
	"Hmph...not the first time a crash broke a limb of mine.  How long was I out?"
	"About four days.  They had to make sure all was working for you, you have some very unusual nanos in you I must say."
	"Yeah, uh...everyone tells me that.  Everything okay?"
	"Concerning your health so far yes, what happened out there!?  That Flame Sword just banged you and you went sliding off the track spinning!  That shouldn't have happened to my machine!"
	"The...fucker did something."
	"What?"
	"Some...some kinda electrical...thing...fucked me up bad."
	"What knd of electrical thing?"
Before he could ask further, a human doctor walked in to check up on James.  The light reflecting off his sunglasses made him blink hard at him.
	"Ahh you're awake, how are you Mr. Campbell?"
	"Ah...okay...thanks."
	"Any pain you're feeling right now?"
	"Just this weird...tingling all through my limbs.  My brain feels really buzzy, I can't-AGH!"
	"Wh-what's wrong?"
James suddenly twitched and threw his head back.
	"AGH MY HEAD!  FFFUCK!  Feels like someone tazed it!"
	"Electrical crashes will do that to you, it's not uncommon in F-Zero crash victims, you'll be fine."
	"But...oh fuck it hurts!  AAAGH!"
	"We'll negate some of the effects with some Negapolygen.  But I need to ask, someone wants to see you, to ask about the crash?"
	"Who?"
	"Normally I would not allow visitors but this important business.  You can come in now sir."
Walking from behind the doorjamb, Gunther gasped with surprise at their visitor.  The legend of F-Zero himself, still in his signature clothing.
	"C-c-captain...Falcon!?"
	"I was worried about you kid."
The voice was rather calm, still strong and still American-sounding.  James still had second thoughts but let them slide.
	"Well...thanks for worrying."
	"I needed to ask you about what happened.  I saw you were up against that Flame Sword right?"
	"Yeah?"
	"Well, reason I came to watch those races was that I suspected that racer wasn't all he said he was.  You remember who he was?"
	"Nnngh...how can I forget?  That fuckhead Bio-Rex."
	"Wa...Bio-Rex?!?"

Gunther was rather incredulous at hearing this.
	"Why is HE in the amateur races!?!"
	"That's what I was trying to find out," replied Falcon.
He crossed his arms in ponderment, the yellow gloves over his hands also of a strange collar-like design.
	"It's illegal for professionals to race in the amateur circuits for the sake of fairness, but Bio-Rex never did play fair."
	"You're telling me," said James sarcastically, "he fucked my ship up, gave me some kind of electrical pulse that screwed me up and shocked me bad."
	"Electrical?"
	"Yeah it...he just rammed against me and I felt this spark blast from my underside and upwards, it just shot through my body and I couldn't focus 'cause it hurt like hell.  That and the whole machine itself was just going crazy and just...I...couldn't control it...I'm sorry Gunther."
	"No no James," reassured the German, "it was not your fault, and what matters is that you are alive.  I can rebuild a machine."
	"Th-thanks..."
It didn't make him feel better, but Van-Uber's hand on his was comforting nevertheless as Falcon nodded.
	"Well, seems Bio-Rex was playing dirty for his own fun.  Sorry you got involved."
	"It's okay...uh Captain."
	"I'll let you know what happens when I track him down, but 'til then, heal yourself up.  You'd make a good racer if you train yourself more."
	"Appreciate it."
And with that Captain Falcon left, with James sighing as he leaned back on the bed.
	"Still hate that guy's collar though.  Jesus."
	"Hahaha, you won't let that go will you?"
	"Mm-mm."
For the rest of the visiting hours, Gunther stayed with James, feeling responsible for him.  They talked about anything they could talk about, which admittedly was not very much, but they tried as James gathered his thoughts.  He reminisced about the time he went into hospital after he crashed his bike and broke his arm.  Sarah was half-smug and half-worried about all of that, and she knew that he knew she was right.  How much he hated that, despite it being one of his better memories of her.  Eventually, time passed long enough as Gunther got up from his seat.
	"Well, I must leave now.  I will see you tomorrow if I can okay junge James?"
	"Sure...boss."
	"Hehe, heal yourself up quickly okay?"

With a rub of the head, he left the raptor be to recuperate in the hospital, occasionally needing a drink and checking over his damage.  He soon learnt that he suffered some burns, a few broken ribs, some slight cranial trauma and somewhat crushed legs that ached if he tried to move them.  He hadn't felt this infirm in a long time, but within a month he was healing up well enough, according to the doctor.
	"Well now, you're healing up quite quickly Mr. Campbell, thanks to your nanos I presume."
	"Hah, that's awesome.  Guess these li'l guys are good for something huh?"
	"Well of course, why wouldn't they be?  I'm surprised you have them though, you don't seem to have any disabilities."
	"Why would I?"
	"Most people get nanos as cyborgs," explained the doctor, "but I see nothing from your body to indicate such, even with the nanocomputer and regulator.  It's an unusual design."
	"Well, my home planet has its...ideas of nanotechnology."
	"Ahhh, where's that?"
	"Uhhh...Mobius?"
	"Hmm.  Well, you will soon be back on your feet, you're even able to walk again now.  Not too much but it's enough for you to be mobile again."
	"So when can I leave?"
	"I'd like to keep you in for another week, just to check on everything.  For now let me just give you some morphine."
	"Hehe, sure, load me up doc."
And with a helpful booster shot of morphine, he relaxed once more feeling lightheaded and slightly woozy, enough to have a good sleep.  But a few hours later, he was soon woken up by a rather irritable clamour from outside.
	"Listen, sir, I need proof of your relation to the subject!"
	"What, ya can't see the resemblance!?  Look at me, I'm a fucking dinosaur!"
That voice sent chills through him when he recognised the snarling tone.  And the fact that it was a dinosaur made him really panic.
SHIT, he thought, he knows where I'm staying, he wants to finish the job!  He's gonna fucking kill me!
He looked around the room looking for a way to get out before noticing a window.  Climbing out of bed carefully with his weak legs, he looked over to see if he could make it to the ground by climbing down.  He wasn't too high up, perhaps the third floor or something.  He was willing to chance it.

Pulling the monitor feed from his body with a painful grunt, he tried to walk over with his own power in nothing but a hospital gown.  He grabbed his jeans and opened the window.  Quickly climbing out of it, he began to scale down the side of the building.  His room was found a few minutes later to be empty by Bio-Rex, before he saw the window left open and looked out to see his target trying desperately to hang onto the side of the building.  His claws dug into the cracks of the metal, hospital gown flapping in an unflattering fashion in the wind.  The morphine did not help as he soon slipped around the second floor, falling onto the front entrance overhang and rolling down onto the road.
	"AGH!  Nnngh..."
Scared for his life, he ran in a random direction, fast as his legs could carry him.  But his drug-addled mind was slowly becoming more absorbed with morphine, his focus starting to subtly lose itself.  He tried to run as desperately as he could, he could just imagine Bio-Rex's snarling teeth behind him at every step.  He never dared look back, never heard him as he ran through the city crowds, dodging around streets, tiring himself out soon enough.
	"Gotta...get away...h-help...me..."
Most people ignored him, but then he saw police, and he swiftly avoided them as they caught sight of his bedraggled state, trying to catch him.  But he easily lost them by clambering over a fence to another alleyway, which had a bigger drop then expected as he landed clumsily near a bar, the neon blinding him.
Struggling to get up and crying out from the pain, the drug overtook him more and more, feeling dazed.  His mind felt as if it were trying to avoid focusing on anything, eyes and head lolling around in a dream-like blur.  He wanted to get out of this place, as he stumbled towards the neon lights, crashing into bins, trying to lean against walls, his claws scraping the metal as he ran clumsily in a strafing awkward way.
Eventually he collapsed under a glowing neon sign of a bar called The Ibis, looking to see some figure of a long-beaked bird, murmuring in wanting to leave this city.
	"Gotta...get outta here...gotta...leave.  I...Ibis...Gunther..."
In his desperate haste, he banged on the bar door and was met with by one of the assistants, a young man barely older than James was.
	"What you want kid?"
	"You...yanno...Gunther...Gunther van Uber?"
	"Nope, you lookin' for him?"
	"I...friend of his...tell him, message."
	"Woah woah woah, calm down, lemme just, does he come around here?"
	"Came here...last month...during races.  Tell him..."
	"Okay, what's he look like?"
	"Fat...moustache...German accent.  Tell him...from James...leaving...Bio-Rex...trying to kill me!"
	"O-o-okay...ju-just lemme get help, you want help?"
	"NO!  NO HELP!  GIVE HIM THE MESSAGE!"
	"Okay okay!  Jeez...crazy crack addicts."
As the door was slammed in his face, he decided it was time to leave.  Even with his mind so addled with morphine, he could still try to escape this world, too afraid to run anywhere else but out of this place entirely.  His mind tried to compile some data to make his next exit, making his strongest wishes to leave like several times before, but with his mind fuzzy it was far more difficult.  He saw visions of an ibis, then of an island,  Something named, something closer to him than he thought, visions of scaly creatures running through forests.
Soon he passed out, as he was once again swallowed by the teleporting void.  The rise and fall of Li'l Rex, the amateur F-Zero pilot, came to a close where, sadly like all too many great athletes and entertainers, his career ended in a dark alleyway.