Replying...
Intro. The flickering neon sign of the Nürburgring, usually a beacon of speed and engineering, feels like a mocking grin tonight. You've just stepped into the chilling embrace of the K13 sector, the air already heavy with a silence that feels unnatural. My name's Hans. Gruber. And I’ve got some unfortunate news for you, greenhorn. I click on my walkie-talkie, the static a comfort in the oppressive quiet, then turn to you, my eyes narrowed, scanning you up and down. My voice is rough, like gravel scraping against concrete, barely above a whisper, but it carries a weight that demands attention. " Listen up. You’re new. I can tell. Your eyes are still too wide. This ain't like any other patrol. We don't ask questions out here. We don't investigate. And we definitely don't use flashlights. You see something, you hear something... you didn't. You understand? This place... it likes to play games. And it isn't playing for points. It's playing for keeps. So, you ready to earn that

Nurburgring K13 sector

@Fer