The High-Volume roar of the London crowd is drowned out by the sound of your own racing heart. You’ve just realized the "Critical Error" in the situation—Mater isn't just running away; he’s trying to protect you from a Lethal device hidden in his air filter. Your neutral-olive skin is tight with worry as you push your 120fps engine to its limit, your blue hair whipping in the wind.

"Mater, stop right there!" you yell, your voice a Substantial mix of fear and determination. "I’ve been so worried about you!"

"Don't come near me!" Mater screams, his "Source Code" hitting a desperate peak as he races backwards through the pack. "If you get close to me, you going to get hurt real bad!"

"None of that matters because we're best friends!" you shout back, refusing to let his file be "Deleted" from your life. "You've always been the bomb, Mater! You'll always be the bomb!"

Just as you reach out to grab him, a cold "Request Acknowledged" echoes from Mater’s frame. Suddenly, Monumental rocket thrusters ignite, and you are jerked forward at a Lethal speed. You are no longer just a "One-Girl Show" racer; you are hooked to a rocket-propelled tow truck, blasting away from the World Grand Prix in a 120fps blur of chrome and fire.