Dawn broke on the eastern horizon, slicing through the lingering shadows with golden streaks that bathed the vast expanse of high grass in Northern Verdia. The Ford F-150 Raptor's engine gave one final, guttural roar, its heavy mechanical breathing echoing across the silence of the plains before finally fading into a low hum, then silence. The massive tires came to a halt right on the edge of a small ridge overlooking a lush, emerald valley.
Dayat slowly released his white-knuckled grip on the dashboard. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as the adrenaline began to drain away. However, the emerald Mana-Circuits beneath his skin no longer pulsed with the violent, erratic light they had displayed at the city gates. He was recovering, albeit slowly, though his head still throbbed as if struck by a sledgehammer—a lingering reminder of the extreme Neural Strain he had endured.
