WASD - Drive. Space - Brake. C - Change camera.
Rev the engine of a boxy Lada Granta as you slice through the cramped alleys of Arbat, its compact frame dodging Soviet-era potholes with stubborn precision. Switch to a hulking UAZ-469, mud-caked tires chewing through birch forests near the industrial outskirts, axles g...roaning as you straddle frozen ruts left by tractors. Blast down rain-slicked federal highways in a rattling GAZ-24 Volga, its oxidized chrome grille devouring kilometers of cracked asphalt while the reek of diesel and wet upholstery floods the cabin. For midnight sprints past derelict factories, grab the Moskvich 412—bald tires screeching through roundabouts, headlights flickering as you drift across tram tracks slick with autumn leaves. Each ride whispers stories: the Granta’s sticky gearbox resisting second, the UAZ’s torn bench seat pricking your thighs, the Volga’s cracked dash vibrating with retro defiance. Grip the wheel tighter when the Hunter’s loose steering wanders toward wheat fields, when the Moskvich’s exhaust coughs blue smoke near checkpoints. This isn’t a joyride—it’s a baptism by gear oil and stubbornness, where every dented fender and sputtering carburetor becomes a badge of grit.
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