Building Zoids in a World of Titans

Alex walked toward the Warden's Guild with Team Celestia at his back. He had not asked for company. He would have made the trip alone, the way he did most things. But Anya had joined him at the gate and the others followed, and he had not argued. There was no point. They had already decided.

The streets of Veridia were still strewn with debris, but the people had already come out of the shelters. A woman with soot on her cheek spotted them and grabbed her child's arm.

"That's them. That's the team. And that's the one with the machine."

Alex kept his gaze forward. The cheers were louder than he expected. A cluster of kids ran alongside the group, pointing at him, shouting things he couldn't parse. Someone threw a flower. It bounced off Anya's pauldron without her breaking stride.

"Enjoying your celebrity?" Fia asked, grinning at him.

"I was invisible yesterday."

"Congratulations. You've been promoted."

Seraphine walked beside him, her expression calm. "You'll adjust. It takes time."

"I don't want to adjust."

Lyra adjusted her rifle strap. "Then you'll be uncomfortable for a while."

Anya glanced back at him, the faintest trace of amusement crossing her face. "Five years of being ignored, and one afternoon later, they're chanting your name. Welcome to the other side."

Alex touched the pendant at his chest. "I built a machine. I didn't audition for a parade."

"The machine saved their homes," Anya said. "The parade is mandatory."

A baker stepped out of his shop and offered them a loaf. Alex took it because refusing felt more awkward than accepting. The man beamed like he'd handed over a crown jewel.

Fia bit into a second loaf someone had pressed into her hand. "See? Not so bad."

Alex said nothing. The cheers followed them all the way to the guild hall steps.

The guild hall's main floor fell into a strange, uneven hush as Alex stepped through the entrance with Celestia flanking him. Conversations didn't stop all at once. They stuttered, caught mid-sentence, and then resumed at half volume with twice the intensity.

Alex felt the weight of every gaze. A cluster of Rank 7 Wardens near the requisition desk straightened when they saw him. One of them, a woman with a scar running down her jaw, gave him a slow nod. Another looked away quickly, his expression caught between awe and something sharper. Envy, maybe. Or the discomfort of having dismissed someone who turned out to matter.

A younger Warden near the back whispered loud enough to carry. "That's him. The Rank 9 with the machine."

"Rank 9?" someone else muttered. "He fought a B-rank Liger. That's not a Rank 9."

"Maybe the machine did the fighting."

"Maybe the machine is the Rank 9."

Alex kept walking. The whispers braided together into a low hum that followed them across the hall. He caught fragments. "Five years picking scraps." "Never said a word to anyone." "Built that thing alone?" "How?" "Why didn't he tell anyone?"

Anya leaned in slightly. "They'll talk less once they get used to seeing you."

"They'll talk more," Lyra corrected. "They just won't say it to your face."

A guild staffer in a pressed grey uniform appeared from a side corridor, her expression professionally neutral. "The Guildmaster is ready for you. If you'll follow me, please."

They followed her toward the upper offices. The corridor narrowed, the noise of the main floor fading behind them. Alex could feel the tension in his shoulders beginning to unknot when a voice cut through the hallway from behind.

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to show his face."

Alex stopped. He didn't want to, but the voice was like a fishhook lodged in his ear. He turned.

Kaelen stood ten paces back, leaning against a support beam with his left arm in a cast and a brace around his neck. A walking disaster in borrowed bandages. Two of his crew hovered nearby, looking like they'd rather be anywhere else.

"Kaelen," Alex said.

"Rank 9 Kaelen. The hero of Veridia." Kaelen pushed off the beam and limped forward, his good hand gesturing broadly. "Funny how that works, isn't it? Five years of picking through garbage, and one afternoon you're the savior of the city. Must be nice. Must be real nice to skip the line."

Fia stepped forward, her boots clicking on the stone. "He didn't skip anything. He did the fighting."

"That's the thing, though." Kaelen's eyes stayed locked on Alex. "He didn't earn it. He got lucky. Some machine falls out of the sky, and suddenly the Rank 9 nobody is standing next to Celestia like he belongs there."

Alex studied him for a moment. The casts. The brace. The way he was holding himself together with nothing but spite and a bad attitude.

"You were at the fight?" Alex asked.

Kaelen's jaw tightened. "I was pulled from patrol. By the time I got there, it was over."

"So you weren't there."

"I was handling the perimeter—"

"Right." Alex let the word hang. "You were handling the perimeter."

Kaelen took another step, his voice rising. "Don't act like you're better than me. You're a scavenger who got handed a weapon. Any one of us could've done what you did with that machine."

Anya moved to Alex's side, her presence like a wall of crimson steel. "Any one of us didn't. He did."

Lyra's voice cut in, cool and precise. "The machine is irrelevant. He made the decisions. He took the hits. You were on the perimeter."

"I was—" Kaelen started.

"Handling it," Seraphine finished gently. "We heard you the first time."

Kaelen's face flushed. He looked at Alex, then at the four women standing with him, then back at Alex.

"You think this changes anything?" Kaelen said. "Tomorrow they'll forget. And you'll still be the weird kid in the workshop."

Alex considered that. Then he nodded slowly. "Probably. But tomorrow I'll still have the machine."

He turned and followed the staffer down the corridor. Fia fell into step beside him.

"That was almost satisfying," she said.

"Almost?"

"You should've let me hit him. Just once. On the cast."

Behind them, Kaelen shouted something that echoed off the stone walls. Alex didn't catch the words. He didn't need to.