Alex’s workshop was a cool, shadowed cave compared to the bright bustle of Veridia. He stood before the Arosaurer, his hands moving over the gunmetal plating, checking seams, tapping actuators, listening for any hint of a misaligned hydraulic whine. The System’s diagnostic overlay glowed in his mind, a cascade of green status markers. Everything was nominal.
A salvager needed more than just firepower. The Arosaurer’s backplating could be modified. Alex unbolted a section of cobalt blue armor, revealing the reinforced internal frame. He began fabricating a simple but sturdy cargo rig—a cradle of titanium alloy and heavy-duty strapping. It wasn’t elegant, but it would carry a boar carcass.
The door creaked open, and Rhian slipped inside, her small basket in hand. She watched him for a moment, her eyes wide.
“What are you doing, Alex?”
He didn’t turn, his focus still on a knee joint. “I’m inspecting the Arosaurer. Borin gave me a job—a pack of Thorn-Tusk Boars disrupting a mining site. I’m heading out to complete it today.”
Rhian set her basket down. “Can I come with you?”
Alex’s hands stilled on the plating. “It’s a combat zone. It’s dangerous.”
“I know. That’s why I want to go. I’ll just worry if you go alone again. And I can learn. You said maybe one day I could learn to pilot it, right? I could just sit with you.”
He looked at her, at the stubborn set of her jaw beneath the worry in her eyes. Leaving her here, imagining the worst while he was gone… that was a different kind of danger.
“Alright,” he said, the word coming out quieter than he intended. “But you follow every instruction, exactly. No questions in a fight. Understood?”
A brilliant smile broke across her face. “Understood! I’ll be the best co-pilot ever.”
“Observer,” he corrected, but a faint smile touched his own lips. “Let’s get you suited up. The cockpit’s built for one, but we’ll make it work.”
Alex handed Rhian a spare crash harness and a padded helmet from a storage locker. “It’s not a proper flight suit, but it’ll keep you from rattling around.” He helped her strap in, his fingers deft with the buckles. “Keep your hands on these grips here. Don’t touch the controls.”
Rhian nodded, her breath coming fast with excitement.
They climbed the Arosaurer’s neck. Alex settled into the pilot’s seat, and Rhian squeezed in beside him, her back against the reinforced bulkhead. The space was tight, intimate with the smell of ozone and cold metal.
“Ready?” Alex asked, his hand hovering over the ignition.
“More than ready.”
The canopy hissed shut, sealing them in. Alex’s Z-Bracer lit up. He gripped the joysticks. “System, initiate startup sequence. All systems to combat readiness.”
The Arosaurer’s deep internal hum rose to a resonant growl. Status lights flooded the cockpit with an amber glow. Rhian gasped as the machine shifted under them, a living tremor of power.
“Hold on,” Alex said, and pushed the controls forward.
The Arosaurer lunged from the workshop with a deafening metallic roar, its first stride eating up ten meters of ground as it charged toward the open plains.
The world outside the canopy became a green and brown blur. Rhian’s eyes were huge, glued to the view as the Arosaurer’s powerful gait turned the rolling plains into a rushing river of motion beneath them. Every stride was a gentle lurch that made her squeak with delighted surprise.
“It’s like being inside a giant bird that’s running instead of flying!” she shouted over the engine hum, her voice full of pure joy.
Alex glanced over. Her earlier worry was gone, replaced by the unguarded wonder of a child on a thrilling ride. He watched her press her face to the canopy, trying to see everything at once. A real smile, small and genuine, broke through his usual focus. Her excitement was infectious, a bright spark in the cockpit’s functional gloom.
The landscape shifted as they traveled. The open plains gave way to tangled forests where the trees grew thick and close. The Arosaurer pushed through dense undergrowth, snapping twisted vines and ancient roots with sounds like cracking bones. The air in the cockpit grew cooler, carrying the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves.
They entered a region where the soil was a dark, almost metallic brown, littered with sharp outcroppings of rock. This was the mineral-rich zone Borin had mentioned. The ground was uneven, pocked with holes and shallow burrows—the signs of rooting creatures. The forest here was a mess of knocked-over saplings and torn-up earth.
The Arosaurer slowed to a cautious walk, its optics scanning the chaotic terrain. Alex’s smile faded, replaced by analytical calm. They had arrived.
“It looks like they tore this whole place up,” Rhian whispered, staring at the raw earth and broken trees.
“They did,” Alex agreed, his voice low. “And that means they’re close. Their territory’s right here.”
He didn’t take his eyes off the sensor feed. “Rhian, I need you to be still now. No moving around. Sudden shifts in weight can throw off my balance calculations.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice small but serious. She froze in her harness, her knuckles white on the handgrips.
The Arosaurer took another silent, rolling step forward. The only sounds were the faint hum of its core and the distant cry of a forest bird. Alex’s breathing evened out, his world narrowing to the data on his screens and the tense quiet of the waiting woods.
Alex’s hands tightened on the controls. He nudged the Arosaurer into a slow, deliberate turn, guiding its heavy feet to avoid snapping branches. Stealth wasn’t its strong suit, but moving with the terrain’s natural rhythm could help.
The Zoid’s head snapped to the left, optics focusing with a soft whir.
“What is it?” Rhian whispered.
Alex’s eyes flicked to the radar. “Signatures. Small ones. Too small for anything but humans. Wardens.”
“Should we go see?”
“From a distance. The optical zoom is good enough.”
He piloted the Arosaurer up a slight rise, using the thicker tree cover as a screen. The cockpit’s main screen flickered, and the image resolved. In a smaller clearing, a familiar figure in dented armor was shouting orders. Kaelen. His team of three other low-rank Wardens was tangled with a pair of snarling, dog-like Titans—Rank 9 Prowlers, by the look of them. One of Kaelen’s men was pinned, his shield cracking under the creature’s jaws.
“It’s Kaelen’s group,” Alex said, his voice flat. “They’re busy.”
Rhian leaned forward. “They’re struggling! Should we help?”
Alex watched for another second. Kaelen landed a solid blow on a Prowler’s flank, driving it back. The situation was messy, but manageable. “They have it handled. Intervening would mean revealing the Arosaurer. Our priority is the boars.”
“But what if someone gets hurt?”
“They’re Wardens. It’s the job.” He began to reverse the Zoid, the massive feet lifting and settling with careful precision. “With them this close, we need to be even quieter. The last thing we need is for them to spot a giant blue machine and come investigating.”
He turned the Arosaurer fully away from the skirmish, its optics scanning the torn earth ahead. The sounds of combat faded behind them, replaced by the tense silence of the hunt.
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