Building Zoids in a World of Titans

The bell over Stonehand’s door jangled. The familiar scent of oil, metal, and dust wrapped around Alex like a second skin.

“Alex! And the little shadow!” Borin’s voice boomed from behind a stack of alloy ingots. “Back so soon? Don’t tell me you changed your mind about the joint housings.”

“No,” Alex said, hefting the heavy canvas sack onto the counter with a solid thump. “I’m here to submit the salvage.”

The shop went quiet. Ziya, who had been meticulously cataloging a box of flux capacitors, looked up, her stylus freezing mid-tap. Borin’s jovial expression shifted to one of genuine surprise. He leaned over the counter, peering at the sack.

“You’re submitting… the Thorn-Tusk job? Already?”

“Yes.”

Borin untied the sack, pulling it open. He whistled, low and long. Inside, the segmented carapace plates were cleanly cut, the tusk roots intact, the valuable marrow glands carefully extracted and sealed. It was Grade-A work.

“By the forge,” Borin murmured, pulling out a plate to inspect it. “This is… pristine. One day, lad?”

Ziya was already at his side, her analytical eyes scanning the haul. She picked up a tusk, checking its weight and the cleanness of the break. “No scorch marks from energy weapons. Minimal tool scarring. This is hand-harvested, not battlefield scrap.” She looked at Alex, her usual neutrality replaced by sharp curiosity. “How?”

“Trade secret,” Alex said, his voice flat.

Borin chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. “Fair enough, lad. A Warden’s methods are his own.” He gestured to the sack. “In that case, consider your order fully paid.”

Alex didn’t move. “I need to change the order.”

Borin’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Change it? To what?”

Reaching into his pocket, Alex pulled out a folded sheet of film and smoothed it on the counter. It was a dense, technical sketch of mounting brackets, focusing arrays, and heavy-gauge flux conduits. “These,” he said, pointing. “And a crystalline focus lens, grade three or higher.”

Borin leaned in, his eyes tracing the schematic. His jovial demeanor evaporated, replaced by a craftsman’s focus. He hummed, tapping a thick finger on the conduit specifications. “This is for a beam projector. A big one.” He looked up, his gaze sharp. “You’re building a energy rifle.”

“Yes.”

A slow grin spread across Borin’s weathered face. “Ambitious. Dangerous. I like it.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “The lens will cost you. But I can get it. Give me two days.”

“Thanks, Borin. Two days is fine.”

“Hunting something, I take it?” Ziya asked, her stylus tapping a steady rhythm on the counter. Her gaze hadn’t left the schematic.

Alex nodded, folding the film back up. “A certain Titan.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t know yet.”

Ziya’s tapping stopped. She tilted her head. “You’re building a specialized heavy weapon for a Titan you haven’t identified?”

“It’s rare. I’ll research it on the guild servers later.”

“You are infuriatingly vague, Alex.” Ziya crossed her arms, a genuine pout touching her lips. It was a rare, almost childish expression on her usually composed face. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But have you even built a beam projector before? The heat management alone is a nightmare. One misaligned conduit and you’ll cook your own core.”

Alex hesitated. She was right. His experience was with kinetics and basic hydraulics. The energy weapon was a leap into unfamiliar systems—systems where mistakes didn’t just fail, they exploded.

“I haven’t,” he admitted.

“Then you’ll need help.” Ziya’s pout vanished, replaced by a spark of eager intensity. “I’ve assembled three for Wardens. I know the tolerances.”

He weighed the cost. Time was the real currency. Building it alone meant weeks of trial, error, and wasted materials. Accepting help meant sharing details, but it also meant a functional weapon sooner.

“Alright,” Alex said. “Your help would… improve efficiency.”

A genuine, bright smile broke across Ziya’s features. “Good. Bring the housing frames when you get them. We’ll start the alignment.”

“If you have any other Titan requests. I can handle them,” Alex said, turning to go. He glanced at Rhian, who had been watching the exchange with quiet interest. “Let’s go.”

The bell jangled again as they stepped back into the dusty street, the weight of the new project—and the new partnership—settling on his shoulders.

The afternoon sun beat down on the dusty path back toward the guild hall. Rhian walked beside him, her brow furrowed.

“So,” she began, her voice soft. “That new weapon. It’s not for general defense, is it?”

“No.”

“What’s it for?”

Alex didn’t look at her. His gaze was fixed on the distant foothills. “The Liger.”

Rhian’s steps faltered. “The… the one from the forest? You want to hunt that?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Alex, it didn’t even attack us. It was just… eating. Why risk everything?”

He stopped then, turning to face her. The earnest worry in her eyes was a weight he felt directly. “It’s a rare Titan,” he said, his voice measured but firm. “A Liger-type. If I can defeat it, the components… they could be used for another Zoid Core. A powerful one.”

Rhian’s mouth opened, then closed. She understood the implication—another machine like the Arosaurer, but built from something far more formidable. “You’re thinking of building a second one? Already?”

“The chance is here. I can’t let it get away.”

“But you’re a Rank 9! That thing is… it’s not a boar. It moved like lightning. What if your new weapon isn’t enough? What if it sees you first?”

He knew her fear was rational. It was the same fear that coiled in his own gut, a cold, practical assessment of the odds. But beneath it ran a different current—the System’s silent promise of a blueprint, the ache of potential unrealized.

“I’ll be careful,” he said. “I’ll plan. I won’t engage unless I have a clear advantage.”

Rhian studied his face, the set of his jaw, the intensity in his hazel eyes. She saw the obsession there, the drive that had built the Arosaurer from nothing. She couldn’t fight that tide.

“Promise me,” she whispered. “Promise you’ll come back.”

“I promise.”

She nodded, a reluctant surrender. “Alright. So what’s the first step?”

“Information.” Alex started walking again, his pace purposeful. “We need everything the guild has on Liger-type Titans. Behavior, habitats, known weaknesses. The more we know, the better the chance.”

Together, they turned toward the squat, fortified building of the Veridia Warden Guild, its walls embedded with faded Titan-bone plaques. The hunt, in its quiet, preparatory phase, had begun.