The rain was coming down sideways, angry and loud. Windshield wipers squealed like overworked waitresses trying to keep up with an impossible order. Lightning cut across the highway ahead, followed by thunder that shook the bones of the big rig.
Inside the cab, Bobby Joe Buckman didn't flinch. He'd been through worse. That one time in Kansas where the hail cracked his passenger mirror, or the freak snowstorm in Nevada with ice thick enough to rip the rubber clean off his tires.
This? Just Tuesday.
He took a long, scalding sip of stale gas station coffee, adjusted his trucker cap, and shifted gears.
"You and me, Betsy," he muttered, patting the dash. "You and me got five more counties to cross before sunrise."
The truck—1977 Western Star 4800, painted red and white with a hood ornament shaped like a growling bull—rumbled in agreement. She didn't need words. Betsy understood him. They'd been through every hellhole road this side of the country. She never let him down.
A sign flashed by in the downpour. Mile Marker 0. Funny. He didn't remember crossing into a new state.
Then the road lit up.
At first, Bobby thought it was lightning again. But this wasn't white. It was a glowing bluish-white… like plasma. Like someone turned on a stadium floodlight in the middle of nowhere.
And then he saw it.
Standing in the center of the highway, just ahead of the next bend.
A deer.
But not a deer.
Its body flickered, grainy like VHS static, and its antlers stretched toward the sky, branching like trees made of lightning. Its legs didn't touch the ground. Its eyes were... wrong. Shifting, pixelated, shimmering like a broken screen.
"...The hell?" Bobby whispered, easing off the pedal.
Betsy growled beneath him, confused.
Then everything went quiet. No rain. No thunder. Just silence, like the world was holding its breath.
The deer looked up.
[Echo Detected]
A mechanical voice rang inside his skull. Cold. Artificial. Calm.
[Summoning Layer Synchronization: 67%...]
The deer stepped forward.
Bobby's instincts screamed.
He slammed his foot down.
Betsy roared.
The deer didn't move.
There was a flash of white—Then impact.Then nothing.
Bobby woke up choking on ash.
His lungs burned like he'd just sucked down an entire barbeque pit full of diesel fumes. The sky above him was the color of molten gold, swirling with crimson clouds. The ground beneath his back pulsed faintly—warm, wet, and alive.
He pushed himself up with a groan. "Betsy?"
No answer.
He blinked around.
Jagged black rocks jutted from the ground like broken glass. Trees—if they could be called that—writhed in place, their bark slick with something that looked an awful lot like tar. The air smelled wrong. Sharp, sour, like ozone and rot.
Then he heard the screaming.
Not human.
Something wet. Low. Animal. A sound that made your spine itch.
It came from beyond a hill of cracked stone. And alongside it—voices.
People. Shouting. Fleeing.
Bobby staggered to his feet. His boots squelched in whatever the ground was made of. He moved up the hill, muscles screaming in protest, and crested the rise just in time to see the monster.
It was huge—maybe thirty feet long. Leathery skin, pulsing like a heartbeat. Dozens of whip-like tendrils dragging along the ground, each one covered in tiny red eyes. A mouth that split vertically down the center of its head, lined with teeth too many and too jagged.
Around it were bodies. Not dead—yet. A few people—mercenary types with battered armor and spears—were desperately trying to hold it back.
They weren't doing well.
One tendril lashed forward. A soldier screamed as he was lifted into the air, bones cracking. Another swung a sword and got flattened by a whip of muscle.
Bobby stared, frozen.
[ANCHOR DETECTED: VEHICLE-CLASS RELIC][UNBOUND FOREIGN CREATOR FOUND][ECHO LAYER INITIALIZATION COMMENCING...]
He stumbled backward.
"What the hell is—?"
[CREATOR: BOBBY JOE BUCKMAN][BINDING ANCHOR: 1977 WESTERN STAR 4800 – CODE NAME: BETSY][SYSTEM SYNC: 100%][WELCOME, CREATOR.]
A blast of light exploded from the sky.
A rift tore open above the field, spiraling like a hurricane made of code and sound. Static buzzed in Bobby's ears. From the center of the rift, something fell—something big.
Something red and familiar.
Betsy.
Except she wasn't just a truck anymore.
Blue runes lit her frame. Her headlights glowed like eyes. The grill expanded, unfolding into a mounted battering ram, and from the back emerged what looked suspiciously like turret rails.
She landed with a crash that shook the earth.
And then, she spoke.
"Well well. About damn time you woke up, hotshot."
"Betsy?" Bobby croaked.
"Yup. We got synced. You died. I got summoned. Also, magical shielding's offline, so maybe don't crash me again."
The monster roared.
Its attention turned.
Tendrils curled. It leapt.
Bobby didn't think. He moved. His boots hit the ground hard as he sprinted toward Betsy, her cab doors opening automatically.
He dove inside.
Dashboard lights flared to life. New controls gleamed under his hands—levers, toggles, even a glowing red button labeled [ENGAGE: MONSTER CRUSH MODE].
Bobby grinned.
"You ready for a drive, girl?"
"Born ready."
He slammed the throttle.
The engine howled.
Betsy tore forward, tires igniting with magical fire. The corrupted ground cracked beneath her. The monster surged to meet them.
It opened its vertical maw wide—too wide.
Betsy didn't swerve.
She hit it dead center.
Flesh gave way like wet paper.
The creature let out one last shriek before being launched backward, crushed beneath six tons of runic steel and redneck vengeance. The back tires rolled over its face just to be sure.
Silence returned.
Smoke curled from Betsy's wheels.
Bobby exhaled slowly, heart thundering in his chest. "...What in the Sam Hill did I just do?"
"Oh. You ran over a Class-3 Primordial with me. While syncing to a multiversal stream. Also, we're live."
[STREAM ONLINE: 3 Viewers Connected]
Viewer01: what is this garbageViewer02: HOLY HELL he ran it overViewer03: finally a protagonist with taste
[New Title Unlocked: The Monster Truck Hero][Betsy: +1 Sync Upgrade Point Earned]
Bobby leaned back in the seat, dazed.
"…I need a smoke."