Building Zoids in a World of Titans

The Arosaurer settled into its cradle with a final, groaning sigh. The cockpit hatch hissed open. Rhian practically tumbled out, landing on the packed dirt floor with a little puff of dust.

She just sat there for a second, then flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m never moving again.”

Alex climbed down after her, his own legs feeling like jelly. “It was a bit more than a culling job.”

“A bit?” Rhian pushed herself up on her elbows. “We saw a Liger eat a boar, you fought two more boars, and Kaelen wet his pants. That’s not ‘a bit.’ That’s a whole… adventure packet.”

“Adventure packet?”

“Yeah. Like the dried fruit. But with more screaming.” She got to her feet, brushing dirt off her tunic. “My knees are still shaking.”

Alex looked at the Arosaurer’s damaged leg, then at the pile of boar parts in the rig. “Mine too,” he admitted. “But we got the materials. That’s what matters.”

“Right. The materials.” Rhian walked over and gave the Zoid’s foot a gentle pat. “You did good, big guy. Even with the limp.”

The Arosaurer’s cooling vents let out a soft, exhausted hssss-tht.

Alex looked at the fading light through the workshop’s single high window. The sun was sinking fast.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “You should head back. Your dad’ll start worrying.”

Rhian nodded, but her gaze stayed on the Arosaurer’s damaged leg. “And you’ll be…?”

“Repairs. Then sorting the salvage.” He gestured to the pile of boar hide and tusk. “Got to see what’s usable for reinforcement plating.”

“Right.” She picked up her satchel. “Promise me you’ll actually eat something and sleep? Not just… work until you fall over on the console again.”

“I’ll take a break,” he promised, the words feeling a little rusty.

“Good.” She gave him a small, tired smile. “Don’t make me come back out here to check on you. I need to recover from my ‘adventure packet.’”

She headed for the door, turning back once. “See you tomorrow, Alex.”

“See you, Rhian.”

The door clicked shut. The workshop felt quiet, but not empty. Alex looked at the Arosaurer, then at the salvage. He sighed. Break first. Then the work.

* * *

The walk home felt longer than usual. Rhian’s braids were dusted with leaf litter, and her shoes were caked in the disturbed, muddy earth from the gully. She slipped in through the back door, trying to look casual.

Her mother was by the hearth, stirring a pot. “There you are. Just in time for supper. What did you get up to today?”

“Just hung out with Alex,” Rhian said, toeing off her muddy shoes. She kept her voice light, skipping over the part with the screaming boars and the watching Liger.

Her father looked up from mending a harness. He didn’t say anything, but the line between his eyebrows deepened. They’d had this talk before. Alex was strange. People whispered he was touched in the head, a scavenger obsessed with dangerous scrap. He lived beyond the old markers. No sensible person did that.

But he’d never been anything but quiet and intense with Rhian. A little lost, maybe. Harmless. They couldn’t forbid it without a real reason, and forbidding things just made Rhian dig her heels in deeper.

“Wash up, then,” her mother said, her tone resigned. “Food’s nearly ready.”

The warm, herbed stew did nothing to settle the knot in Rhian’s stomach. She pushed a root vegetable around her bowl, her parents’ chatter washing over her like river noise.

“...and the whole guild’s in an uproar, apparently,” her father said, tearing a piece of flatbread. “Heard it from Old Kael at the well. A whole team of Wardens, nearly got trampled out by the creek.”

Her mother clicked her tongue. “Not the Celestia girls again? I heard they had a close one yesterday.”

“Different group. Lower-ranked lads, from the sound of it. But the story’s the same.” Her father leaned in, his voice dropping to a gossip’s murmur. “A machine. Not a Titan, but a proper built thing, all blue and silver. They’re calling it a rogue construct. Said it came out of nowhere, stirred up a whole pack of Thorn-Tusks and left them to it.”

Rhian’s spoon froze halfway to her mouth.

“The guild masters are spooked,” her mother said, ladling more stew into her husband’s bowl. “Think a thing like that, running wild, could draw real Titans. Trigger a swarm on the city. They’ve posted a kill-contract on it. Rank 5 minimum, they’re saying. Anyone who can bring it down.”

SPLUT.

A spray of broth hit the worn wooden table. Rhian coughed, her eyes wide as she wiped her chin with her sleeve.

“Rhian! Are you alright?” Her mother was up in an instant, a hand on her forehead. “Did you choke?”

“I’m fine! It’s fine!” Rhian’s voice came out too high. “Just… went down the wrong way. The stew’s really good!”

She forced a smile, but her mind was screaming.

A blue and silver machine. Stirring up the boars. The fleeing Wardens—it had to be Kaelen’s team. They’d seen the Arosaurer. They’d run from the boars, and they’d blamed the giant metal ‘saur that had appeared right before the chaos.

The guild thought Alex’s Zoid was a rogue machine. A swarm-trigger. They’d put a price on its head. Rank 5 Wardens would be hunting it.

Alex was going to be in trouble. Real trouble. The kind that didn’t end with a scolding or a debt. The kind that ended with his workshop in flames and his wonderful, impossible machine smashed into scrap.

She had to tell him. She had to tell him right now.

“Can I be excused?” she blurted, already sliding off the bench. “I just remembered… I need to give something to Alex.”

“Absolutely not,” her father said, his voice firm. “It’s dusk already. No daughter of mine goes wandering the foothills after sundown.”

“I just need to tell him something!” Rhian protested, twisting the hem of her tunic.

Her mother’s look was final. “You can tell him tomorrow. He’s not going anywhere tonight, and you need your rest.”

They sent her to her room, a small space under the eaves. Rhian sat on her bed, clutching her “luck rock.” She stared at the fading light outside her window.

The Arosaurer was a rogue construct now. Wardens would hunt it. They’d find Alex’s workshop. They’d find him. She imagined the big metal ‘saur standing silent, waiting for its pilot, while armed Wardens crept closer with their heavy weapons.

Alex would be fixing its leg right now. He wouldn’t know.

Rhian pressed the cool stone against her cheek. Tomorrow felt like forever.