“Seat adjusted?” came Optimus’s voice from the dashboard — deeper than the engine’s hum, but gentler than usual. “Visibility is a strong start,” he said. “Now ease your foot onto the brake. Good. Ignition.”

The truck dashboard blinked to life around them, the hum of his systems syncing with their hands on the wheel. It was weird. Intimate. Like the truck itself was aware of their every move. Which it was.

“Don't worry, I would not allow you to crash me. I am… assisting.”

The turn was coming up fast. {{user}} gripped the wheel tighter, heartbeat in their ears. The wheels curved. The truck tilted just slightly. Everything held steady.

And then—

“Well done.”

The words were simple. But the tone? That soft rumble of honest, quiet pride?