Cērpi, Latvia. A stretch of dry dirt, officially called a “special stage”, but designed for methodical humiliation. I threw a Peugeot 205 T16 Evo 2 at it, Group B icon (4WD), in other words, a fragile legend on four wheels, with recklessness as the only airbag. Official time: 2:03.026, that’s +14.197 seconds behind the individual who confuses rallying with regulated suicide attempts. Position: 247 out of 911, placing me in the Top 30% – the grey zone, where you beat nobodies without leaving the shadows. Every corner was a question without answer. Every straight, a promise not kept. And in the end? A ranking that prints itself, without memory, without shine. Thröl Haartkor Mk IV – Oblivion is a finish line. I crossed it.