The heat in Rio was never just temperature. It was in the engine growls, the street echoes, the glint of suspicion in every passerby's eyes. And inside the safehouse garage, that heat pulsed like a coiled engine ready to blow.
It was the first time they were all together.
Dominic Toretto stood at the front, arms folded, watching Shepherd Fox like a hawk sizing up a wolf. To his right, Brian O'Conner leaned against a pillar, nodding slowly. The others were arranged in a loose circle.
"This," Dom said, motioning to the newest face, "is Shepherd. He's family."
The word hung in the air with weight.
"Cousin on my mother's side," Dom added, as if sealing the bond.
Roman Pierce raised an eyebrow. "Man's built like a damn race car, I'll give you that."
Shepherd gave a slight nod. "Aerodynamics are everything."
That earned a short laugh from Tej, who added, "You talk like a tuner, not a driver."
"I do both."
Han tilted his head, chewing thoughtfully. "He beat Brian. That says something."
Brian shrugged. "He got me. But he ain't seen Roman's crazy yet."
"Crazy's not always fast," Shepherd replied. "Sometimes it's just loud."
That earned a round of laughter, the ice breaking just enough.
Dom stepped forward and clapped a hand on Shepherd's shoulder. "We've got work to do. We're gonna need more wheels—real speed, the kind that won't get caught on any cameras."
"And I know just where to get them," Tej grinned.
The Car Lot – Downtown Rio
They rolled up in pairs—Dom and Brian leading the charge, Shepherd with Han and Roman in the second wave. The lot looked ordinary enough. High-end imports lined the display pads like showroom trophies, glittering under early evening light. But this wasn't your average dealership.
This was a place where the fast and corrupt kept their toys.
"Looks like Christmas," Roman said, eyeing a matte black GT-R.
"Stick to the plan," Dom warned.
Tej and Han split off to loop the perimeter while Dom, Brian, and Shepherd headed toward the office to claim what they'd come for.
But halfway through the lot, a wall of black SUVs came screeching around the corner. Federal-issue. Fast.
Dom didn't flinch. He knew that sound before the tires even stopped.
Doors flew open.
Luke Hobbs emerged, full stride, tactical gear gleaming, sweat already lining his brow. His eyes locked on Dom like a predator smelling blood.
"Dominic Toretto," he barked. "You're under arrest."
Behind him, a small army of heavily armed operatives took position, fanning out with rifles raised.
Dom looked at him like he was a passing annoyance.
"You're a long way from home, agent."
Hobbs motioned forward. "Don't test me."
Shepherd slowly stepped forward beside Dom, his jaw tight. He felt it again—the Rift Core in his chest pulsing like a storm warning. It hummed at the tension, feeding quietly off adrenaline and power. His hand drifted toward his hip. Not for a weapon, but out of reflex—like an old soldier feeling the pulse of something bigger.
Then came the shift.
Locals appeared—quiet at first. One from the left. Two from the right. Then dozens. Men with tattoos, women holding children, all holding firearms. They formed a perimeter, their faces unreadable but unwavering.
The feds were surrounded.
Shepherd glanced around. The symmetry. The efficiency. These weren't random thugs. They were the community. Dom's.
Dom stepped toward Hobbs, his tone like thunder wrapped in gravel.
"This is Brazil."
Silence.
Hobbs looked around, jaw clenching.
Roman whistled low. "Man, you really picked the wrong city."
Hobbs raised a hand to his team, signaling the stand down. One by one, their weapons lowered. The tension didn't disappear, but it shifted. The power was clear.
Dom turned his back on him and walked toward the nearest car.
The others followed.
Hobbs didn't move. He just watched. And Shepherd felt those cold eyes linger on him longer than anyone else.
He met the gaze, steady and unflinching.
Something in Hobbs' stare said, I'll be back for you.
Later That Night – The Safehouse
Back at the hideout, the cars sat in a clean row—engines purring, polished, prepped.
Dom leaned against the table, staring at the map Tej had laid out.
"We got the speed. But we still gotta figure out how to move through without tripping heat."
"We beat their tech once," Brian said. "We'll do it again."
Shepherd crouched by one of the new rides, already tweaking the intake valve.
"This one won't cut it."
Dom walked over.
"What do you see?"
"She's got beauty," Shepherd replied. "But the brains are stuck in 2009."
"You can fix that?"
Shepherd stood, brushing grease off his hands. "Give me a few hours."
Dom nodded once. "They're yours."
As the crew scattered to rest, refuel, or reload, Shepherd remained behind.
The garage fell into silence, save for the rhythmic ticking of cooling engines.
And the Core stirred.
"Energy uptake increased. Emotional stress... effective. Core stabilization at 31%."
The voice was clear now—Alix, the AI from his old lab. Rebuilt, reformed, now fused into the dimensional core.
Shepherd exhaled, staring at his reflection in the polished fender.
He hadn't just crossed dimensions. He'd crossed lines.
And he was still moving.