Building Zoids in a World of Titans

The government building of the Foreman sat at the heart of Veridia like a stone fist wrapped in timber and Titan-bone reinforcements. Alex had passed it a hundred times on his way to Borin's shop without ever setting foot inside. The two Wardens flanking the entrance wore full combat harnesses and carried rifles that looked like they'd seen actual use, not just ceremonial polish.

The one on the left held up a hand as Alex approached.

"Name and business."

"Alex. Rank 7 Warden. I have a meeting with Foreman Vance."

The Warden's eyes narrowed slightly. He was young — maybe a year older than Alex — and his gaze flicked over Alex's plain work clothes with the kind of assessment that came from deciding whether someone was a threat or a waste of time.

"ID and Warden's mark."

Alex pulled the small metal token from his pocket and pressed his thumb to the scanner the second Warden produced. A soft chime confirmed his identity. The scanner displayed his rank, his assignment history, and the recent promotion that still felt like someone else's file.

"Rank 7," the first Warden said, reading the display. He looked up at Alex. "You're the one who killed the Liger."

"I'm the one who was there when it died," Alex said. "There were four other Wardens who did most of the actual bleeding."

The Warden's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. "Humble. Alright. You're cleared. Third floor, the assistant will take it from there."

The interior of the building was quieter than Alex expected. Thick walls absorbed sound, and the amber bio-luminescent panels cast everything in a warm, almost sleepy glow. A few clerks moved between offices with armfuls of documents, and a pair of Wardens stood at a junction of hallways, speaking in low voices that cut off as Alex passed.

The assistant was waiting at the base of the staircase. She was the same woman who'd escorted him out of the Guildmaster's office after his promotion — sharp-featured, efficient, with the kind of posture that suggested she'd been standing in that exact spot for the past hour and would stand there for another if required.

"Warden Alex," she said. "The Foreman is expecting you. Follow me."

She didn't wait for a response. Alex followed her up two flights of stairs and down a corridor lined with maps of Veridia's territory. The maps were annotated with colored pins — red for active Titan sightings, blue for patrol routes, black for areas that had been abandoned. There were a lot of black pins on the eastern frontier.

The assistant stopped at a heavy wooden door and knocked twice.

"Enter," came the voice from inside.

The assistant opened the door and stepped aside. Alex walked in.

Elara Vance's office was spartan in a way that felt deliberate rather than accidental. A large desk dominated the center, its surface clear except for a single stack of reports and a data slate. Behind the desk, a wall-sized display showed a live feed of Veridia's perimeter — the damaged eastern wall was still under repair, scaffolding visible even from this distance. The desk faced the window, and Elara had turned her chair to face him as he entered.

She looked different out of armor. Still commanding — that was something that lived in her posture, not her equipment — but the lines around her eyes were more visible without a combat helmet framing her face. Her dark auburn hair was pulled back in the same tight braid, and her steel-grey eyes had the same quality of missing nothing.

"Warden Alex," she said. "You're punctual. I appreciate that."

"Foreman Vance," Alex said. "Thank you for making time."

"I said I'd be available when you were ready to continue our discussion. Sit."

Alex sat in the chair across from her. It was sturdy and uncomfortable in the way that suggested it was meant to keep visitors from lingering too long.

Elara studied him for a moment, her fingers steepled. "You called this meeting. That tells me you've made a decision about my proposal."

"I have."

"And?"

Alex leaned back slightly, matching her posture. "I'll build Zoids for Veridia. But I have conditions."

Elara's eyebrow rose a fraction. "Conditions. Go on."

"A development budget of four hundred thousand Sols. Upfront. Non-negotiable access to Titan component salvage from kills made by Veridia's Wardens. A dedicated workshop space with security provisions that I control. And final say on all design specifications — no one tells me how to build my machines."

The silence that followed was the kind that had weight. Elara's expression didn't change, but something shifted behind her eyes — a recalculation, a reassessment.

"Four hundred thousand Sols," she repeated.

"That's the number."

"That's more than Veridia spends on Warden operations in a year."

"Then Veridia has been underspending on Warden operations."

Elara's mouth tightened. "You're asking for a significant investment in an unproven production model. You've built one Zoid. One. And you want me to commit four hundred thousand Sols to scaling that into a defensive fleet."

"One Zoid that killed a B-rank Titan," Alex said. "One Zoid that saved this city when your Wardens — with all due respect — couldn't stop it. I'm not asking you to trust a production model. I'm asking you to trust results."

He kept his voice level. Confident. The number was high enough to make anyone hesitate, but not so high that it was absurd for what he was proposing. Four hundred thousand Sols would cover the materials for the Liger Zero and the Lanstag with enough left over to produce two or three lighter defensive models for the city. Models that would be useful but not revolutionary — machines that could patrol the walls and respond to Rank D threats without giving anyone the blueprint for something that could level a fortress.

The key was the System. Without it, anyone trying to reverse-engineer his designs would be starting from scratch. Years of research and development compressed into a process that, for Alex, was as simple as following instructions. By the time anyone on Terrax figured out what he'd built, he'd be building things they couldn't even theorize yet.

Elara stood and walked to the window. She looked out at the city — at the scaffolding on the eastern wall, at the smoke rising from repair crews, at the people moving through the streets below.

"Do you know what I see when I look at Veridia?" she asked.

"A city that needs better defenses."

"I see two hundred and thirty-seven civilians who died on Thornback Ridge because we didn't have the machines to hold the line." Her voice was quiet. "I see a frontier outpost that survives on luck and the willingness of people like you to do impossible things alone in workshops no one visits. And I see a future where that luck runs out."

She turned back to him. "Four hundred thousand Sols is a lot of lives, Alex. That's what you're asking me to spend. Not money — lives. The lives of the people who'll die if this doesn't work."

"Then let me make sure it works," Alex said. "Give me the budget, the materials, and the space. I'll give you a defensive capability that no other settlement on this continent has. Your Wardens won't be fighting alone anymore."

Elara studied him. "And the designs? The specifications? You said final say."

"My machines. My designs. You get the finished product and the operational data. The engineering stays with me."

"That's a lot of trust to put in one person."

"You're putting trust in me either way. The question is whether you trust me enough to do it right."

Elara returned to her desk. She sat down slowly, her fingers drumming once against the surface. "Three hundred thousand. And I want quarterly progress reports with full performance metrics."

"Three hundred and fifty. And you get the reports, but I control what performance data is included."

"Three twenty, and I want at least four operational units within six months."

"Three fifty, four units within eight months, and I keep salvage rights to any Titan components I harvest during the development process."

Elara's eyes narrowed. "You're negotiating like a shopkeeper."

"I spent five years buying parts on credit from Borin Stonehand. You learn to negotiate or you learn to go hungry."

Something that might have been amusement flickered across Elara's face. It was gone before Alex could be sure.

"Three hundred and forty thousand," she said. "Final offer. four units within seven months. Quarterly reports with meaningful data — and I'll define meaningful. Salvage rights are yours for components from kills made during development, but anything from existing stockpiles goes through standard guild channels."

Alex let the silence stretch for a beat. Then he extended his hand.

"Done."

Elara looked at his hand for a moment before taking it. Her grip was firm and brief.

"Don't make me regret this, Alex."

"I don't plan on it."

"Good." She released his hand and reached for her data slate. "I'll have the assistant draw up the formal agreement. You'll have workshop access by end of week and the first budget transfer within ten days."

Alex stood. "There's one more thing."

Elara looked up.

"The workshop space. I want it at the edge of the settlement. Near the forest access. I need room to test, and I'd rather not panic the civilians when something roars."

Elara considered this. "The old salvage yard on the northern perimeter. It's been unused since the last Molten Forgers team transferred out. Reinforced walls, direct forest access, and far enough from residential areas that noise complaints won't reach my desk."

"That works."

"I'll have it cleared and secured by the time you sign the agreement." Elara set down her slate and looked at him with an expression that was hard to read. "You know, when I first heard about the Rank 9 scavenger who built a machine that could fight a Liger, I thought you were either a genius or a lunatic."

"Probably both."

"Probably." She paused. "But standing here now, watching you negotiate four hundred thousand Sols out of me with the calm of someone ordering parts at a supply shop — I'm starting to think you might be the most dangerous kind of person. The kind who knows exactly what they're worth."

Alex felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Take it as a warning. I'm giving you the resources to change this city. Don't make me the fool who enabled something she can't control."

"You won't," Alex said. And he meant it. Not because he was promising restraint, but because by the time anyone could control what he was building, it would already be obsolete.

The assistant appeared at the door as if summoned by the conclusion of negotiations. "I'll show you out, Warden Alex."

Alex nodded to Elara. "Foreman."

He followed the assistant back down the corridor, past the maps with their black pins, past the Wardens at their junction, and out into the afternoon light of Veridia.

Three hundred and forty thousand Sols. A dedicated workshop. Salvage rights.

He touched the blue stone pendant at his chest and started walking toward Borin's shop. He had work to do.