The roar of engines echoed across the clearing like thunder trapped in a valley. Dust clouds rose behind the armored wheels as one JLTV after another tore through the practice course. Morning had turned to noon, and the field was no longer quiet—it was alive with motion, noise, and nervous excitement.
"Easy on the wheel!" Lyra shouted as Meryl jerked the JLTV hard to the right. The vehicle wobbled but didn't tip.
"I am!" Meryl snapped back, her hands clenched white around the steering wheel. "It's like steering a mountain!"
"Mountains don't respond to commands," Lyra replied dryly. "This one does. Just not if you strangle it."
They reached the final marker cone and came to a stop, albeit a rough one. The front tires skidded across the grass before Meryl found the brake.
She let out a long breath and slumped in her seat. "That was terrifying."
"But you didn't crash," Lyra said, patting her on the shoulder. "That's a win."
From the side of the field, Inigo waved. "Next pair!"
