The volcanic rock path fell away behind the truck at a rate that only rewarded stubborn pressure on the accelerator, and Proxy had been keeping that pressure steady ever since he entered the zone.

The road ahead was solid. The road behind was lava. That made the point without asking for commentary.

The truck in front of him had been sitting in the middle of the narrow path since the second curve after zone entry, and its method was simple enough to insult.

Stay centered, then slide into Proxy’s lane whenever the road bent, using the turn itself to force him into either braking or the lava.

The driver had done it twice already.

Proxy had answered both times by steering away, reading the drift in the shift of its weight before it became a problem.

The third bend was coming, and the other truck was already preparing the same move, its nose beginning to slide left with the confidence of something that had worked twice and mistaken that for wisdom.

A boulder broke loose from the volcano on his right and dropped into the lava beside the path.

The splash crossed the road and hit the truck ahead before anyone could do anything useful about it.

The heat kicked the truck left. The center of the path opened.

[ Overdrive ]

Proxy accelerated through the distance and past the other vehicle before the driver finished maneuvering the swerve.

He took the bend first and the Overdrive window ended with him two lengths ahead on open road.

He heard a lava burst somewhere behind him as the other truck was forced into the volcanic rock he had just passed, and by consequence was sinking.

He did not check whether it survived that event. Some questions are not improved by answers.

The smoke ahead thinned.

Visibility stretched from thirty meters to sixty, then farther.

He could see the length of the next straight and, beyond that, the point where the path curved around the base of a volcano.

Against the rock there, where the road ended, something had stopped.

He noticed the shape before the crash.

The round proportions, the pale bodywork damaged through the entire chassis, one headlight aimed in a direction that helped no one.

He recognized it the way he recognized everything about her, which is to say before he had finished deciding to look.

The hood was up.

He closed the distance at a steady speed, because the path sank at the same rate no matter what was waiting at the end of it, and slowing down here had consequences.

That part was not philosophical.

It was just mechanics.

At thirty meters the details came into focus.

Her jacket was off and tied at her waist.

Her shirt sleeves were rolled to her forearms. The shirt itself was transformed into a crop top, revealing the midriff.

She was bent over the engine with both hands inside it, and the lava zone’s heat made sure her skin glittered in sweat, and the work she was doing added to that, and the virtual environment rendered all of it with obnoxious fidelity and no regard for his concentration.

There was a warmth at the back of his ears that the lava on either side of the path could not plausibly claim credit for.

He looked at the stone ahead and kept his speed even.

Then he found a rock that urgently needed his attention and gave it exactly that.

Her truck was stopped.

The volcanic path behind her position was already lava, meaning the route she had taken through the zone was gone, submerged for the full stretch she had covered in first place.

She could not go backward.

Forward was the only direction that led to finishing the course, and her engine was not working.

Not finishing meant roulette.

The roulette’s survival rate depended on live audience donations in real time, which was not a variable he was prepared to accept.

He looked at the road ahead, then at her truck, then back at the lava.

It had begun to touch near the rear where his truck was now bearing down on it at a speed slightly lower than it had been a moment before, because he had reduced speed without fully deciding to.

He started to wonder if they would be disqualified if two contestants were in the same truck.

There were no rules about it, so possibly not. However, he did not put above the corporation to make a rule on the spot for fun. The risk was real and neglected, because he already had made his decision.

Then, she looked up from the engine and saw him.

She raised a hand and waved.

With engine grease on her forearms and heat in her face and that beamy warmth she aimed at him and naturally nobody else, unadorned, from fifteen meters away in the middle of a volcano zone, as though this were a sensible place to wave at someone.

He lifted his hand off the wheel briefly.

She turned back to the engine. 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

She reached in, adjusted something, and then kicked the underside of the hood with the flat of her foot, one decisive kick, the sort that tells whatever is being kicked that cooperation is no longer optional.

She closed the hood.

She got back in.

The engine started.

Roughly.

It started the way things start when they have been persuaded rather than properly handled, with a rough catch, a pause, and then a roar that could be interpreted as good enough.

The dashboard that had gone flat came back.

The numbers were not quite right.

They were enough.

The truck reversed away from the volcano base.

It turned.

The right panel made a sound during the turn that it had not been making before, carrying all of its complaints into the new motion, but the truck moved and the engine kept working. The volcanic rock held the truck long enough for her to get moving properly and build speed.

He was already past and continuing down the lane ahead.

He checked the mirror.

Her truck was behind him, moving, the high speed and very high acceleration doing exactly what those numbers promised now that the engine was running again.

The crumpled right side, the one working headlight, the body panels that had documented every decision from the kraken mess through the volcano base. All of it was there in the mirror and closing the distance at a speed that matched the way she seemed to approach everything else.

He looked back at the road.

The bet counted at the finish line. That was their promise.