The walkie-talkie buzzed, lighting up with a single, damning word: "Go."

Oh, perfect. This can't possibly end horribly.

Oh, this was it. This was my moment of doom. I stared at the glowing word like it might magically offer me some kind of instruction manual, but no such luck.

With trembling hands, I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles already turning white. They hadn't even bothered giving me instructions. Just "Go." Like I was born knowing how to drive a truck. Spoiler: I wasn't.

Alright, Izuku, you got this. 

You absolutely don't, but hey, fake it till you make it.

With a deep breath, I pressed what I assumed was the gas pedal. The truck lurched forward so violently that my head slammed back against the seat.

WHAT THE—!

The truck tore forward, careening wildly as I fought to get a grip on the wheel. I yanked it to the left, then to the right, narrowly missing a lamppost—or maybe a mailbox. Hard to tell.

Okay, this thing is way too sensitive. 

Who designed this, Satan?

Buildings blurred past as I swerved, my heart hammering in my chest. People on the sidewalks scattered like I was the star of some low-budget action movie.

Me: "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

I screamed at everyone and everything, though obviously, no one could hear me. Not that it would've mattered. The truck had a mind of its own, and it clearly wanted to take me—and anyone else in my path—straight to hell.

I slammed my foot on the brake. Nothing happened.

Me: "No, no, no. Don't do this to me. Come on!"

I pressed the brake again. Still nothing. It was like the pedal wasn't even connected to the truck anymore.

Me: "WHY DON'T THE BRAKES WORK?!"

Sweat dripped down my face as I clutched the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping me alive. Which, honestly, it probably was.

You're smart. 

You can figure this out. 

Just... maybe don't die in the process."

The truck swerved, narrowly missing a parked car. A honk blared behind me, and I glanced in the rearview mirror just in time to see a very angry driver flipping me off.

Oh, that's fair. 

Totally my fault. 

Sorry for trying not to die!

The walkie-talkie crackled to life again, lighting up with words: "What the hell are you doing?!"

Oh, I don't know, TRYING NOT TO DIE, YOU IDIOTS!

With that, I slammed my hand against the dashboard, as if the truck might magically start cooperating if I just showed it who was boss. Spoiler: it didn't.

Another turn, another near miss, this time with a bus. The truck fishtailed wildly, and I bit back a scream as I yanked the wheel to straighten it out.

This is fine. 

Everything's fine. 

Definitely not about to crash into a building or anything.

The walkie-talkie buzzed again: "Stick to the plan!"

Stick to the plan?! 

WHAT PLAN?! 

No one told me a plan! 

This is not a plan, this is vehicular manslaughter waiting to happen!

The truck jumped a curb, and I winced as it slammed back down onto the road. My teeth rattled from the impact, but I somehow managed to keep the truck from flipping over.

Okay, new plan. 

Don't die. 

That's it. 

That's the whole plan.

I glanced out the window, my eyes darting to the mirrors. No sign of the villains. No sign of anyone, really, except for the poor civilians diving out of my way.

Focus... Focus.

The sound of police sirens pulled my attention back to the road....or at leasr the Flashing lights appeared in the distance did which were growing closer with every second.

Me: "Oh great. Because this situation wasn't bad enough already."

I pressed the gas pedal again, the truck roaring like it was personally offended by my existence. The sirens grew louder probably, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the cops caught up.

Me: "Yeah, this is going to end well. Definitely not going to jail after this."

The truck skidded around another corner, barely avoiding a trash can. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest.

Me: "If I survive this, I'm never getting in a truck again. Ever."

I glanced at the walkie-talkie, half-expecting another snarky command. But it was silent, like the villains had just decided to sit back and watch me spiral into chaos.

Oh, sure. 

No pressure. 

Just drive this death trap into who knows what and try not to kill yourself in the process.

The truck surged forward again, the engine roaring as I accidentally pressed too hard on the gas. Another sharp turn sent me flying against the door, and I bit back a groan as pain shot through my side.

Cool. 

Love this. 

Definitely not regretting every life choice that led me to this moment.

The police sirens were practically on top of me now for sure, and I could see flashing lights in the mirrors. Panic clawed at my throat as I realized I had no plan, no backup, and no idea how to get out of this mess.

Come on,.... You're better than this....Think....

AH DAMN IT! 

What peptalk is this shit?!

But thinking wasn't going to help me now. Not when I was trapped in a runaway truck, surrounded by cops, with no idea where I was even supposed to be going.