He reached for his thermos, the steam from the coffee curling in the cool cab air. Tomorrow would be 1990 in the simulation of his memory—the Wall would be gone, the routes would change, and the yellow buses would cross into territory they hadn't seen in decades. But for today, he was content in 1986, mastering the gears and the grit of a city divided.
This morning was different. He wasn't just driving a route; he was navigating history. The Berlin Wall stood as a silent, concrete shadow just blocks away, a constant reminder of the divided world he navigated daily. As he pulled out of the depot, the yellow double-decker bus felt like a massive, lumbering beast, yet it responded to his touch with surprising precision.
The simulation of his life felt hyper-realistic today. He could feel the resistance in the pedals and the way the chassis swayed when he took a corner too sharply. On his dashboard, the IBIS system flickered with the next stop: Galenstraße. OMSI 2: Steam Edition Free Download (2.3.004)
His first stop was at the edge of the Falkensee district. A handful of commuters huddled in the cold, their breath blooming like white ghosts in the air. Among them was Frau Schmidt, a regular who always sat directly behind the driver’s seat.
By the time he reached the end of the line, the sun was fully up, casting a pale light over the Spandau suburbs. He parked the bus, the air brakes letting out a long, satisfied sigh. Elias leaned back, his muscles aching but his mind sharp. He looked out at the quiet street, the Berlin Wall a distant line on the horizon. He reached for his thermos, the steam from
Near the Nervenklinik stop, a group of students piled on, their laughter filling the lower deck. Elias checked his mirrors, ensuring everyone was clear of the folding doors before pulling away. He glanced at the schedule pinned to his dash. He was thirty seconds behind. He’d have to make up time on the straight stretch toward the Freudstraße terminus.
"Morning, Elias. Right on time, as always," she chirped, dropping her coins into the fare box. This morning was different
Elias gave a quick nod, his hands busy navigating the heavy steering wheel. The manual transmission required a delicate touch—too much force and the gears would grind in protest; too little, and the bus would stall, much to the annoyance of the passengers. He eased into second gear, the bus groaning as it climbed the slight incline toward the Rathaus.