Building Zoids in a World of Titans

Alex wiped grease from the Arosaurer’s damaged ankle joint. The pitted metal was real, the smell of hydraulic fluid sharp in his nose. But his mind was still in the forest, fixed on the shadow under the canopy.

The Liger.

It wasn’t just its size. It was the texture of its presence—a low-grade hum of threat that had resonated through the Arosaurer’s frame even from a distance. A Rank C, maybe higher. He was honest with himself: the Arosaurer, as it was, couldn’t win that fight. Not with autocannons designed to shred boar hide.

But the temptation was a physical ache.

In the original series, the iconic Zoids were always Liger-types. Blade Liger, Shield Liger. Names that meant power. A blueprint from a real Liger Titan wouldn’t just be another Zoid. It would be a statement. And it was out there now, gorging itself on boar carcasses. He might never cross its path again.

He could delay the Lanstag. That was just a matter of credits and time. This was an opportunity. A dangerous, likely stupid opportunity. He wanted it anyway.

Finishing the last weld on the actuator housing, Alex slid off the repair scaffold. The workshop lights cast long shadows across his cluttered drafting table. He pulled a fresh sheet of reinforced drafting film from a drawer.

The autocannons weren’t enough. He needed something with more punch at a distance, something to slow it down or crack its armor before it closed the gap. A weapon the System’s blueprints hadn’t shown him yet.

His pencil moved in quick, sure strokes. He’d studied enough Titan-derived energy conduits and Terraxian flux-metal theory. He understood the principles. A directed-energy rifle, shoulder-mounted. It would drain the Core’s reserves fast, but a single, focused blast was better than a hundred rounds that bounced off.

He sketched the housing, the barrel length for optimal charge, the heat-sink array. The Arosaurer’s left shoulder had the structural integrity. He could integrate it.

Hours bled away, measured in scratched-out calculations and stacks of discarded schematics. The single overhead lamp hummed. His eyes burned. His head finally dropped forward, resting on a drawing of a cooling vent, the pencil slipping from his fingers as sleep pulled him under.

* * *

Alex jolted awake, his neck stiff from where it had been bent over the drafting table. Someone was shaking his shoulder. He blinked, the world resolving into Rhian’s worried face.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” she said, her voice tight. “Alex, you’re in trouble.”

He rubbed his eyes, his brain still half-trapped in flux-metal conductivity calculations. “Who’s in trouble?”

“You!”

He stared at her, waiting for the punchline. “What’d I do? Forget to eat again?”

“No!” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a frantic whisper. “The guild masters! They had a big meeting. They think your Arosaurer is a rogue Titan construct that’s going to start a stampede right into the city walls. They put a kill contract on it. A hunt.”

Alex processed this. The guild. The official, stamp-wielding, rule-enforcing guild. Was offering money to have his five-year project, his life’s work, his Arosaurer, turned into scrap.

He looked from Rhian’s panicked expression to the half-finished schematics for a giant energy rifle. The tonal whiplash was so sharp he almost laughed.

“Huh,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep. “So they want to hunt my Zoid. That’s… new.”

Rhian stared at him, her anxiety curdling into disbelief. “That’s all you have to say? ‘That’s new’? Alex, they’re going to try and kill it!”

“Yeah,” Alex said, finally pushing back from the table. He stretched, his back popping. “I heard you. But think about it, Rhian. Who are they going to send? Kaelen and his boys? They ran from two boars. The local wardens here are good for perimeter patrols and culling contracts, not hunting a mobile, armed, reactive machine they’ve never seen before. Their entire tactical doctrine is based on predictable Titan behavior.”

He walked over to the Arosaurer, patting its armored flank. “If a Rank 2 or 3 warden squad was in town, I’d be worried. But right now? The worst they can do is spot me. And if they spot me…” He shrugged, a slow, confident grin spreading across his face. “I’ll just run. The Arosaurer’s top speed is classified, but let’s just say it’s faster than anything in their garage. It’s a matter of engineering.”

The grin faded. Rhian looked up at him, her eyes wide. “What if they figure out you made it?”

“Then I skip town,” Alex said, the words coming out before he’d considered their weight. “Go further out on the frontier. Maybe one of the bigger settlements where a new face isn’t a big deal. I’ll just move.”

The words hung in the air. He didn’t see the hurt on her face at first, not until her eyes got too shiny and her chin started to wobble.

He froze. His mind, so adept with hydraulic circuits and power curves, offered no solutions for a crying girl. “Rhian…”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered, the words thick.

The ache in his chest was a foreign system, one he couldn’t diagnose. “I’m sorry.”

She took a shaky breath, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Then promise me. You won’t just… vanish. If you have to go, you tell me first.”

“I promise,” he said, and meant it.

Rhian nodded, fumbling at the collar of her tunic. She pulled out a simple leather cord. A polished, deep blue stone, shot through with flecks of silver, hung from it. It was smooth, decorated with careful, tiny etchings of swirling patterns.

“You remember I like to collect rocks, right?” she mumbled, her voice still watery. “This one was the prettiest. I made this for you. So you remember the promise.”

Alex took it. The stone was warm from her skin. He looped the cord over his head, tucking it under his work shirt. The weight settled against his chest, an unfamiliar but solid anchor.

“I’ll remember,” he said.

He held her tight, feeling the small tremors of her fear finally calm. Rhian was his anchor, his little sister and his only friend in this unforgiving world. The thought of leaving her was the one variable his system couldn’t optimize.

She sniffed, wiping her nose. “So what are you going to do now?”

Alex stepped back, his hand instinctively checking the pendant under his shirt. “I’m going to submit the boar salvage to Borin today. Clear the debt for the new materials.” He looked at her. “Want to come along?”

Rhian’s smile was quick and genuine, relief washing away the panic. “Yes.”

They gathered the salvaged boar plating and tusks, loading them into a worn canvas sack.