Chapter 2
Alex’s smile widened, a genuine, unburdened thing that rarely surfaced. He ran a gloved hand over the Arosaurer's shoulder plating, the cool metal familiar beneath his touch.
"Yeah," Alex said, his voice still soft with wonder. "Finally."
Rhian gasped, her eyes wide as she took in the sheer scale of the machine. She’d seen his work in progress, of course, but seeing it fully assembled, ready to move, was something else entirely.
"It’s… it’s amazing, Alex! It’s really finished!"
He nodded, his gaze fixed on the Zoid. He’d wanted to fit it with beam cannons, the kind that could slice through anything, but the Flux Metal required was too rare, too expensive. Veridia wasn’t exactly a hub for high-grade energy components. He’d had to settle for the ballistic autocannons, solid, reliable, but lacking that extra spark.
"It uses ballistic autocannons," he muttered, almost to himself. "If I could've gotten to a larger city, maybe found some Flux Metal…"
Rhian tilted her head, her brow furrowing in concern. "If you went looking for that stuff, Alex," she said, her voice laced with a child’s earnest worry, "you wouldn't have any food to eat."
Alex laughed, a short, guilty burst of sound. He knew she was right. He’d be lucky to afford his next meal if he went chasing down rare metals.
"Yeah," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "Probably not."
Alex had arrived on Terrax five years ago.
It wasn't a journey he’d planned. One moment, he was on Earth. The next, he was here, under a sky of the wrong color, where the ground vibrated with footsteps larger than houses.
On Terrax, humanity wasn’t at the top of the food chain. That spot belonged to the Titans. These were colossal, ancient beings, ranging from house-sized herbivores to mountain-shattering predators that could level a settlement. Their biology was a blend of hyper-dense organic matter, mineral deposits, and raw, harnessed energy. They were less like animals and more like forces of nature.
The environment had shaped Terrax's people, making them tougher than anyone from Earth. They could leap to great heights, shatter rock with their fists, and move with the grace of Olympic athletes.
They had learned to survive the Titans. More than that, they learned to use them. Their technology processed Titan remains. Treated and alloyed bone became structural beams tougher than steel. Layered, mineralized hide formed armor plating. They cleaned and stabilized specialized organs to create power cores and energy conduits.
It was advanced salvage, turning a threat into a resource.
Alex’s anomalous interface, which he simply called the System, took that principle and refined it. It didn't process the materials for him. Instead, it analyzed whatever Titan components he could scavenge. Then, it provided him with optimal blueprints. It showed him, step by step, how to take those processed bones, hides, and energy tissues and assemble them into something cohesive. Something functional.
It showed him how to build a Zoid.
Alex stared at the Arosaurer’s chassis, but his mind drifted back five years.
He’d arrived in a crash of broken branches and sheer terror, dumped into a Xylosian forest that vibrated with footsteps the size of houses. He’d seen the silhouette of a Rank D Grazer moving through the canopy before he’d even stood up.
He’d have been paste if the Wardens hadn’t found him.
The Wardens.
They were the planet’s first and last line of defense. Not soldiers, exactly. More like specialized hunters, engineers, and trackers rolled into one. They trained to fight Titans not with armies, but with teams, using powered armor, heavy weapons, and a deep understanding of their prey’s biology. They were the ones who kept the settlements safe, who harvested the components that kept civilization running. Their ranks, from 9th to 1st, were a brutal measure of skill and survival.
That first day, a squad of Rank 6s had saved his life. He’d watched them move—a coordinated unit of iron and purpose—and a desperate, giddy hope had kindled in his chest.
Because when he’d woken up here, the System had already been waiting in his head. Schematics for impossible machines, component analysis, assembly protocols—all of it centered on one thing. Zoids.
Back on Earth, they’d been plastic model kits. Here, they were a blueprint for survival.
He’d joined the Wardens, driven by that hope. He’d get strong. He’d hunt. He’d build.
Reality was less kind.
He wasn’t suited for the work. At all. Maybe because he came from Earth, he never matched the strength of other Wardens or even regular people. He built himself up over the years, just enough to keep pace with the average person here. But he still lacked any natural aptitude for being a Warden.
While others climbed the ranks, he stayed at Rank 9, stuck on the bottom, handling perimeter patrols and basic salvage. The fighting, the gore of a fresh Titan kill… it never got easier, just familiar.
But the dream didn’t die. It just changed shape.
He learned to scavenge. He took the parts higher-ranked Wardens left behind. He worked any job that paid in scrap or credits. He spent years with his head down, his hands dirty, piecing together his real purpose from the leavings of others.
The Arosaurer wasn't built from glory. It was built from persistence.
The familiar text scrolled across Alex’s vision, visible only to him.
[CORE IDENTIFICATION]
- Name: Arosaurer
- Classification: Allosaurus-type
- Role: High-Mobility Infantry / Close-Quarter Combatant
- Length: 13.7 meters
- Height: 10.8 meters
- Weight: 62.0 tons
- Max Speed: 170.0 km/h
- Twin 105mm Kinetic Autocannons: Mounted on the dorsal hardpoints, these long-barreled ballistic weapons fire high-velocity physical shells to pierce through reinforced targets.
- Electron Bite Fangs: The powerful jaws utilize high-frequency induction to chew through heavy metal plating during close-range grapples.
- Electron Claws: Specialized energized talons on the hands allow the Zoid to slice through enemy hulls with ease.
- Flamethrowers: Arm-mounted thermal dispensers used to flush targets from cover or engage light infantry.
- Smash-up Tail: The massive, counter-weighted tail acts as a kinetic bludgeon, capable of delivering crushing blows to any unit attempting a flanking maneuver.
The System’s assessment was cool and efficient: Close-quarter specialist. Excels in high-speed maneuvers through cluttered terrain. Kinetic weaponry provides sustained engagement capability without core overheating.
His eyes lingered on the final line.
[AROSAURER CUSTOM PROGRESS: 100%]
One hundred percent. After five years of scavenging, of late nights in this oily-smelling workshop, of being the settlement's oddity, it was done.
Alex reached for the Z-Bracer on the workbench, a sleek glove designed to interface with the Arosaurer’s control systems. It fit his right hand perfectly, its metallic fibers conforming to his skin. He pressed a recessed stud on the forearm.
The massive Zoid, which had been standing sentinel, suddenly lowered itself, its powerful bipedal legs bending until its head rested on the workshop floor. The amber canopy, a wrap-around shield of reinforced polymer, hissed as it retracted, revealing the cockpit within.
The interior was functional, spartan. A single pilot’s seat, molded for optimal support during high-G maneuvers, was the centerpiece. Before it, a complex array of displays and control surfaces dominated the space. Joysticks for primary directional control and pedals for fine-tuning balance and thrust were positioned ergonomically. The dash was a mosaic of screens: vital system readouts, targeting arrays, and the System’s own interface, all glowing with a soft, internal light. It wasn't luxurious, but it was built for purpose.
A thrill shot through Alex, a surge of pure, unadulterated excitement. This was it. He didn’t hesitate, practically hopping into the pilot’s seat.
Rhian watched, her small hands clasped tightly in front of her. A frown creased her brow, her earlier awe tempered by a fresh wave of apprehension.
"Alex,"
"It's going to be fine, Rhian. Trust me."
She chewed on her lower lip, clearly unconvinced. Alex knew he should probably invite her into the cockpit, offer her a chance to see it up close, maybe even a ride. But the Zoid’s systems were still volatile. One wrong move, one unexpected surge…
"I've run every diagnostic a dozen times. The computer says everything's nominal. It's ready."
Rhian remained rooted to her spot, her worry palpable. Alex, however, was already lost in the hum of the Zoid’s internal systems, the promise of activation singing in his ears. He felt ready. He felt… complete.
"Hey, Rhian. You should probably step back. Just a bit."
Rhian nodded, her eyes still wide, and took a few steps toward the workshop’s entrance. She watched as Alex settled into the pilot's seat, the familiar worn leather a stark contrast to the gleaming Zoid’s sophisticated systems. He’d spent so many hours here, hunched over schematics, his fingers stained with grease and oil. Now, he was about to bring his creation to life.
He reached for the joysticks, his hands, usually so steady when working on components, now trembling slightly. A nervous excitement bubbled within him, a feeling he hadn't experienced since he was a kid building models. This was different. This was real.
"Alright, Arosaurer, it’s time to wake up." He ran a hand over the primary console. "It’s your birthday today."
A soft hum began to fill the workshop, a low thrumming that seemed to emanate from the very bones of the machine. Lights flickered to life across the Arosaurer’s chassis, cobalt blue sections glowing with an inner luminescence. The Zoid’s massive bipedal legs straightened, lifting its immense frame from the floor with a surprising grace. It stood tall, a silver and blue titan dwarfing Alex’s workshop. Then, with a sound that rattled the tools on the walls and sent dust motes dancing in the air, the Arosaurer let out its first roar.
“SKREEE-CHAK-CHAK-CHAK!”