First Grip

Axles locked. Current surged into the motor. Suspension compressed, springs coiled tight, and all four treads bit into the dark wood grain. No remote signal—just internal drive. Ahead stood a slim black metal chair leg, rising straight from the planks. Steered forward. Rammed the steel post head-on with the front bumper. Solid strike. Rebounded half an inch, tires squealing against the varnish, springs flexing back to neutral. Total chassis integrity confirmed. Good surface traction.