He drove.

Alex looked at his phone. The mod’s config file was open. One slider: “Uninstall – YES / NO.”

The police chatter grew distorted. Dispatchers spoke in reverse. The map icons flickered—rhombuses, then jagged symbols Alex didn’t recognize. At heat level 10, the sky turned blood orange, and the radio switched to a single, looping message: “You are not supposed to be here.”

He blasted through roadblocks like they were cardboard. Spike strips? Tires didn’t pop. Helicopters? A tap of the horn sent them spiraling into billboards. Within an hour, he’d climbed from Blacklist #5 to #2. Only Razor remained.

“Heat Level: REAL. Objective: Survive.”