Prism Strike

Max reverse torque deployed to break the magnetic lock. Rubber treads shrieked against the polished epoxy until—SNAP! My steel axle tore free, catapulting me backward into a rapid 180-degree pivot. Corridor ahead unlocked. Thirty feet down, sharp morning sunlight cut through the sidewalk grating, illuminating a heavy glass lantern reflector lying face-up on the floor like a shallow prism bowl. Detour? Negative. Throttle slammed to full output. My tires bit the concrete, rocketing me into an explosive sprint. Front splitter struck the beveled glass edge with a ringing chime! Momentum forced the lens under my nose, locking me down dead-center in the glare. Refracted solar beams ignited my transparent hull into blinding chartreuse flares across the ceiling.