Building Zoids in a World of Titans

Six weeks. That's how long it took to build a Zoid when you had a team, a budget, and a workshop that didn't double as your bedroom.

Alex stood before the Godos, his arms crossed, scanning the machine with the System's overlay. The data scrolled across his vision.

CORE IDENTIFICATION

Name: Godos

Zoid Core: Allosaurus-type (Rank D+)

Classification: Mass-Production Infantry

Role: Front-Line Assault / Light Reconnaissance

Crew: 1 (Pilot)

TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS

Length: 12.3 meters

Height: 8.6 meters

Weight: 23.0 tons

Maximum Speed: 150.0 km/h

ARMAMENT AND EQUIPMENT

2-Barrel Anti-Aircraft Ballistic Machine Gun (dorsal)

Crusher Claws x2 (forelimbs)

Laser Searcher (ventral)

Small-Calibre Anti-Aircraft Ballistic Machinegun x2 (tail-mounted)

Small-Calibre Ballistic Cannon x2 (lateral)

Smash-Up Tail

COMBAT ANALYSIS

Exceptional stability. Low center of gravity resists knockdown. Relies on squad coordination and massed ballistic fire. Vulnerable to heavy artillery. Best deployed in groups of three or more.

"It looks like a brick," Rhian said beside him.

Alex glanced down at her. She was tilting her head, studying the Godos with the critical eye of someone who had watched its construction from day one.

"It's supposed to look like a brick," Alex said. "Bricks are reliable. Bricks don't break."

"The Arosaurer is prettier."

"The Arosaurer is a custom prototype. This is a production model. You can't compare the two."

Rhian stuck out her tongue at him. Then she turned back to the Godos with a satisfied nod. "Fine. It's a very capable brick."

Across the workshop, Anya stood with her arms folded, studying the machine with an intensity that could have cut titanium. Alex watched her for a moment, then walked over.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that," he said.

Anya looked at him. "I'm not pacing."

"You've been staring at it for ten minutes without blinking. That's either deep concentration or a medical condition."

The corner of her mouth twitched. "I'm assessing."

"You're nervous." Alex leaned against a support beam. "You were chosen as the test pilot three weeks ago. You've logged more simulation hours than anyone. If the Godos so much as sneezes wrong, you'll have it sitting in a corner apologizing."

Anya's expression softened, just slightly. "You're not worried?"

"I built it. I know every rivet, every conduit, every stress point." He pushed off the beam. "The question is whether you trust it."

Anya looked back at the Godos. Then she nodded once, firmly. "I do."

Behind them, Fia was slumped against a workbench while Seraphine patted her shoulder and Lyra offered quiet reassurances.

"I just wanted to go first," Fia muttered. "Is that so much to ask?"

"You'll get your turn," Seraphine said gently. "Alex said the second Godos will be ready in a month."

"A month…" Fia groaned. "I'll be old and gray by then."

"You'll be eighteen and gray," Lyra said. "A remarkable achievement."

Fia threw a rag at her.

The workshop doors opened, and Elara Vance stepped inside, flanked by two guards who wisely stayed near the entrance. She surveyed the Godos with the expression of someone counting the ways this machine would save lives.

"Warden Alex," she said. "It looks even more impressive than the schematics suggested."

"Foreman." Alex gave a short nod. "Right on time. I'd say that's a first, but I don't actually know your track record."

Elara's eyes glinted. "Punctuality is a virtue I reserve for things that matter." She circled the Godos slowly, running a hand along its flank plating. "If these perform as well on the field as they look in this workshop, Veridia's defensive capabilities will increase tenfold. A coordinated squad of Godos could hold against a D-rank swarm without breaking formation."

"That's the idea," Alex said.

She turned to face him. "I reviewed your theoretical performance models. The ballistic redistribution alone is elegant. You simplified the weapons package."

"Flux metal focusing arrays would have tripled the budget. Kinetic systems do the job."

"Pragmatic." Elara smiled. "I'm beginning to think you're the most dangerous person in Veridia, and not because of the machines."

Alex blinked. "I'm a Rank 7 who eats nutrient paste for breakfast."

"Exactly. No one suspects the quiet ones."

Ziya appeared at Alex's elbow, her datapad clutched against her chest. "All checks are complete. Hydraulics, power conduits, weapon systems — everything reads green."

Alex turned to Elara. "You might want to step back. First activations can be... spirited."

Elara retreated a measured distance, her guards retreating further.

Alex looked at Anya. "You know what to do."

Anya met his eyes. Something passed between them — trust, maybe, or the shared understanding of two people who had decided to stop being alone in their respective fights.

She turned and walked toward the Godos. The machine's cockpit hatch hissed open as she approached, as if it had been waiting for her.

Alex watched her climb in, his hand resting on the pendant at his chest. The workshop fell quiet.

This was the moment. The first Godos. The first pilot. The first step toward something that might actually change the balance.

Rhian slipped her hand into his and squeezed.

The cockpit sealed shut.

* * *

Anya settled into the pilot's seat, her hands finding the controls with a familiarity that surprised her. The cockpit was tighter than her Warden gear, more intimate. Every gauge, every switch, every feedback sensor was laid out with a precision that spoke of someone who understood exactly what a pilot needed and when they needed it.

She pressed her thumb against the ignition panel.

The startup sequence cascaded across her HUD — power cell activation, hydraulic pressurization, sensor calibration, weapon safeties disengaging one by one. Each step lit up in green, a trail of small confirmations building toward something larger.

Then the Core engaged.

The sound hit her before the vibration did. A deep, grinding mechanical roar that started in the Godos' chest and radiated outward through the chassis, through the seat, through her bones.

"CHUK-KHHRRRRRRSSSH!"

The Godos' optics flared to life, casting a faint orange glow through the cockpit canopy. Anya's breath caught. The machine wasn't just running. It was awake.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. This was nothing like operating Warden gear. This was something else entirely — a living machine responding to her touch, waiting for her intent.

"All systems green," she said into the comms, steadying her voice. "Godos is online."

Alex's voice came through, calm and measured. "Good. Now ease the right joystick forward. Just a notch. Let it find its balance."

Anya pushed the stick forward. The Godos shifted its weight, and for a terrifying half-second she thought it would topple. Then the left foot came up, swung forward, and set down with a heavy THUD that shook the workshop floor.

She exhaled.

"Now the left. Same motion. Smooth and deliberate."

Step. Step. Step. The Godos lumbered forward, each footfall deliberate, each movement translating her smallest input into tons of walking metal. Anya felt the resistance in the controls — not sluggish, but present. The machine had weight. It had consequence.

The workshop doors were open, and daylight spilled across the floor. She guided the Godos toward it, and the machine's foot crossed the threshold into the open air.

Behind her, she heard Fia whoop. Lyra said something she couldn't make out. Rhian was clapping.

"Take it out to the test range," Alex said. "Targets are set up at fifty, one hundred, and two hundred meters."

Anya guided the Godos forward, finding a rhythm. The machine's gait smoothed as she got the feel of it — the slight delay between input and response, the way the weight shifted with each step. It was like learning to walk again, except she was walking in a twenty-three-ton machine that could crush a building.

The targets came into view — stacked Titan carapace plates arranged at intervals across the open ground beyond the workshop.

"Weapon controls are on your left panel," Alex said. "Twin autocannons are slaved to your right thumb trigger. Smaller ballistic mounts are on the hat switch. Take the fifty-meter target first."

Anya's thumb found the trigger. The targeting reticle settled on the nearest plate. She squeezed.

K-CHCK-CLANG!

The autocannons barked, and the fifty-meter target exploded in a shower of splintered metal. The recoil vibrated through the chassis, a sharp kick that the hydraulics absorbed.

"Again," Alex said. "One hundred meters."

She adjusted, fired. The second plate shattered.

"Two hundred."

The shot took a fraction longer to calculate. She compensated, squeezed, and the distant target buckled and split.

The workshop erupted. Borin was pounding his fist against a workbench. Ziya had both hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes wide. Rhian was jumping up and down. Fia was shouting something incoherent. Lyra nodded with quiet approval. Seraphine clasped her hands together. Even Elara was smiling — genuinely smiling, not the controlled political expression Anya had seen on her before.

"Clean hits," Alex said, and she could hear the pride in his voice. "Bring it back in."

Anya guided the Godos around and walked it back toward the workshop. The machine responded to every command, its movements growing more fluid with each step. By the time she reached the entrance, she had stopped thinking about the controls and started feeling them.

She powered down the Godos inside the workshop. The hydraulics sighed. The optics dimmed. The roar faded to a hum, then to silence.

Anya sat in the quiet cockpit for a moment, her hands still on the controls, her pulse still racing.

Then she opened the hatch and climbed out.

Alex was waiting at the base of the cockpit. He didn't say anything at first. He just looked at her, and she looked back, and something passed between them that didn't need words.

"Good job," he said finally.

Anya beamed. She couldn't help it. The grin spread across her face like it belonged there, like it had been waiting years to escape.

"That was —" She shook her head. "I've never felt anything like that."

"It only gets better," Alex said. "The Arosaurer has more range. The Liger Zero will have more speed. This is the baseline."

Anya looked back at the Godos. A mass-production model. A starting point. And it had felt like this.

She couldn't imagine what the others would feel like.

Ziya and Borin were already swarming the machine, checking readouts and inspecting the weapon mounts. Elara approached Alex, her expression shifting back to business, though the smile hadn't fully left.

"The performance exceeded my projections," Elara said. "I'll need the full test report by end of week."

"You'll have it," Alex said.

"The other three Godos — can you maintain the timeline?"

"Barring complications, yes. Six weeks for the next one if the alloy shipment arrives on schedule."

Elara nodded. "I'll make sure it does." She glanced at Anya, then back at Alex. "You've built something important here. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

She left with her guards, and the workshop slowly returned to its usual rhythm. Borin's craftsmen dispersed to their stations. Ziya lingered by the Godos, running a hand along its flank plating with something approaching reverence.

Anya watched Alex return to his workbench, already pulling up the next set of schematics. He moved with the quiet certainty of someone who knew exactly where he was going.

She touched the Rank insignia on her gauntlet. Rank 6. Senior Warden. A title she'd earned through years of discipline and blood.

But sitting in that cockpit, feeling the Godos respond to her hands — that had been something else entirely.

That had been the future.

Advance chapters on my p@tR$0n/Najicablitz.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!