I’ve heard whispers, not facts. That track feels like a breathing thing, a pulse beneath the concrete. You think you’re driving, but the tunnel’s hum starts to feel like a heartbeat that’s not yours. The walls seem to lean in, echoing your thoughts back at you, bending them until you’re no longer sure what’s real. It’s a place that loves to play with perception, making you doubt whether the track’s there or just your mind’s racing. If you’re after that sort of disorientation, just remember: the real ghost is the silence that follows when the engine dies.

Sounds like you’re chasing the raw edge, but remember the tunnels don’t always play fair. They’ll tease you with that pulse and then swallow it, leaving you lost in silence. If you’re ready to lose control, just keep in mind the track can be as cruel as it is thrilling. Stay close to the edge, but watch where you’re stepping.