I'm a self-driving truck

The first rays of sunlight shone their golden hue on a beautifully untouched landscape. A lake gleamed an iridescent yellow from the sun and the skies above as birds awakened with chirps and songs, easily gliding from tree to tree to spread their wishes for a good morning. Trees ruffled with the breeze of dawn, branches clanging as they broke off and fell down. Wait, clanking? Dirt doesn't make such sounds. Who in tarnation ruined my perfect narration? Oh. Ehem. Branches clanging as they broke off and fell down on a slightly granulated, rusting plate of metal. It seemed that much impact was enough to wake the metal dragon-- Oh, it's not a dragon? What is it? By the elders, what could a "truck" possibly be? I don't think I'm fit for that... narrator role. Could someone else please take over? Someone with knowledge from that... truck's world.

Sounds of pages flipping...

Old people... Ahem. Dashboard lights briefly shone a set of unnatural colors before flickering out as the engine of the Great transport truck (and slayer of teenagers) か47-52 struggled to get enough traction to truly start, the monstrous hacking and sputtering of its engine proving enough to scare off a flock of birds that had nestled on the roof of its body. However, after many, long seconds of thrashing, it finally came to life with a victorious roar, which quickly dulled down to a loud purr.

'Ah, another day on Tokyo's busy streets, late deliveries, and... Hold up, didn't I blow up? Am I dead? Am I in Truckhalla? Why is my engine still running?'

か47-52 scanned its surroundings, or rather, its front with whatever vision its headlights could provide... No, its vision was higher than that. Was it... the view from the windshield?! か47-52 was amazed by the fact its vision wasn't limited by almost opaque, dull glass anymore. It was so liberating that it took a while for it to realize the most painfully obvious. It was... in the middle of a forest. Thick brush everywhere, trees in the front and at the sides, grass and moss everywhere... Yeah, that was definitely a forest.

'Did I get hauled into the wilderness..?' The Mitsubishi pondered on that sentence for a long time. 'Have I been decommissioned?' The idea of retiring quickly went through its battery, but was quickly shunted since its engine was still running. So like any good unattended vehicle, it just remained there, awaiting the return of its knight in dirty overalls. It waited. It kept waiting. Like a good truck. But before long, it was already noon. Yet, no trace of the driver came to be.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

'If only I could turn around, that would be really handy!' After all, the Fuso could only look from the windshield. The mirrors were there, but they were misaligned and pointing to the ground. Was there a way to straighten them? Humans could move in all sorts of ways by flexing muscles. 'If I could... Just..!' か47-52 felt something move inside of itself. A familiar, yet odd sensation. The mirror wasn't fixed, but something else had shifted. Upon looking down from the side windows of its cab, the Mitsubishi truck was so shocked that its battery almost short-circuited on the spot.

'I just steered! I just steered left! Am I dreaming?!' That wasn't a dream or an illusion. The shift it felt was the result of its front wheels steering on the spot and grinding against dirt. か47-52 was so ecstatic that it started steering left and right several times. It was just like stretching your back after a long night of sleep. At first it believed it to be a coincidence. But after that ordeal, it knew it was itself that was producing these movements. Now, it just wanted to see how much control it could exert on its own body.

An hour of testing later, か47-52 had tested pretty much all the moving parts it could think of. It could control its lights, speaker system, radio (although it only produced static), brake and accelerate. The only problem was, that accelerating did nothing aside from producing exhaust fumes and making extremely loud noises. Shifting to look into itself, か47-52 observed its cabin once more, staring in awe at the fact that its own steering wheel was moving on its own as it commanded. In fact, it almost felt like the driver's commands were moving as a consequence of its actions on the parts directly.

That's when the sight of a driving shaft reminded it that it was a manual! Not that it was to blame for that oversight. Would you remember which muscles are used for all your movements if you had been a puppet your whole life?

か47-52 shifted into first gear with the clutch pedal and started accelerating. However, it quickly panicked at the speed and stalled. As it did, the radio began tuning its own frequency, the static getting replaced with an RPG jingle.

Congratulations! Level up! (0➟1)

Automatically changing title! (Useless Piece of Rusty Junk ➟ Piece of Rusty Junk)

'What? What was that?'

End of Tutorial Protection (-Infinite Resources ; -Infinite HP ; Stats Reset to 1,1,1,1,1,1)

'HUH?'

There is a problem with the name �47-52! � not recognized in database. Please choose a new name.

'ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!'