Building Zoids in a World of Titans

The Liger Zero's boosters ignited.

"SHWUUUU-FOOOMM!"

The Zoid exploded forward, a blur of white and blue, claws extended, fangs blazing with gathered bio-electricity. The ground tore beneath its paws. Three hundred and thirty-five kilometers per hour, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

Alex didn't flinch. He drove the Lanstag straight into the charge.

"HONNN-BRRRR-ZZZZT!"

The collision was catastrophic. Antlers met claws with a shriek that split the air. Both machines ground backward, hooves carving trenches in the dirt, frames shuddering under the impact. The Lanstag's shoulder plating buckled. The Liger's chest cowling cracked.

The Liger gave ground first.

It leaped back, landing light, optics flickering. Not injured. Calculating.

Then it struck again—not at the antlers this time. It feinted high, twisted low, and its claws raked across the Lanstag's right foreleg joint. The same joint the Razorjaws had damaged. The same joint Alex had reinforced but not replaced.

Pain shot through the controls. Warning lights flashed.

It knew. The Weakness Scan. The Liger had found the weak point and gone straight for it.

"SZRIIING-CLACK!"

The Liger's claws retracted, already circling for another strike. Its growl rolled across the field, low and satisfied.

"VUMMM-vummm-vummm..."

Alex steadied the Lanstag, keeping the damaged leg angled away. His jaw tightened.

The Liger wasn't just fighting. It was hunting.

The Liger came in low, targeting the Thruster Lance mounted on the Lanstag's nose. Alex saw it too late — the Zoid's claws found the weapon's base and twisted.

The lance sheared off with a scream of rending metal, crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks.

"VREEE-EE-EE-EE!"

The Liger's triumphant snarl rolled across the field. It circled the Lanstag slowly, deliberately, its tail swishing. Confident. The way a predator circles prey that's already lost its teeth.

Alex stared at the broken mount where his most powerful weapon had been. Then he looked at the Liger.

"Well," he muttered. "That could have gone better."

The Liger's optics narrowed. It didn't like his tone.

Alex shifted the Lanstag's weight, testing the damaged foreleg. It held. Barely. The Rolling Spike Shields were still functional on the left side. The Breaker Horns were intact. The Smart Guards could still block.

He didn't need the lance. He needed the Liger to get close.

The Liger's mane vents flared white-blue. The hum built in the air, a pressure behind Alex's eyes, a taste of copper on his tongue.

Here it comes.

"RROOOO-AAARRR-GHRRR!"

The Mane Blast erupted outward — a wall of crackling electromagnetic force that hit the Lanstag like a freight train. The Smart Guards absorbed the first layer. The second layer punched through. Every screen in the cockpit flashed red. The VR projection stuttered, went dark, came back as static. The Lanstag's left shoulder joint locked. The rear thruster array went offline.

Alex's head snapped back against the headrest. Blood filled his mouth where he'd bitten his tongue.

But the core held.

The amber light in the cockpit didn't flicker. The Lanstag's frame groaned, settled, and stood.

The Liger's optics flickered. Confusion. It had put everything into that blast.

"HONNN-BRRRR-ZZZZT!"

Alex charged.

The Lanstag's hooves hammered the earth, closing the gap before the Liger could retreat. The Breaker Horns caught the Liger's flank, lifting it sideways. The Liger twisted mid-air, claws raking across the Lanstag's back, tearing through armor plating like paper.

Alex felt every gouge through the controls.

He pivoted, driving the Rolling Spike Shields into the Liger's hind leg. The shields shrieked, chewing through white armor, finding the joint beneath. The Liger yelped — a sharp, electric sound — and its rear left leg buckled.

Both machines staggered apart.

The Lanstag's spike shields ground to a halt, their motors burned out. The thruster lance was gone. The rear thrusters were dead. All that remained were the antlers and the hooves.

The Liger's left hind leg dragged. Its boosters were dark. The Mane Blast had drained its reserves.

Two wrecks, facing each other across twenty meters of torn earth.

The Liger crouched. Its optics locked onto Alex. No more circling. No more testing.

It lunged.

Alex met it head-on.

The collision was brutal and graceless — no technique, no strategy, just two machines trying to break each other. The Liger's claws found the Lanstag's neck joint. The Lanstag's antlers caught the Liger's chest, driving through cracked cowling, pinning it.

They pushed. Metal screamed. Hydraulics failed.

The Liger's claws slipped from the neck joint and found the cockpit housing. One thrust. The outer layer cracked. Two thrusts. The inner seal split.

Alex stared at the claw tip protruding through the canopy, inches from his face.

He smiled.

The Lanstag's last functional system was the Seismic Pulse.

Alex triggered it.

The shockwave erupted downward through the antlers, through the Liger's chest, into the ground beneath them both. The Liger's frame convulsed. Its optics flared white, then dark. Its claws went slack.

The Liger collapsed.

The Lanstag stood over it — one leg buckled, armor torn open, cockpit breached, every weapon destroyed. Smoke poured from a dozen ruptures.

But it stood.

The Liger's core hummed. Not a growl. Not a challenge. But a satisfied humm.

Alex leaned back in his seat, breathing hard.

"Nice fight,"

The silence broke.

The crowd erupted — a wall of sound that hit Alex like a physical force. Cheering, stamping, voices cracking with excitement. Someone was shouting his name. Someone else was laughing, high and disbelieving.

Alex sat in the ruined cockpit for a moment, his hands still locked on the joysticks. Blood ran from a cut above his eyebrow. His ribs ached where the harness had bitten into them. The taste of copper filled his mouth.

He released the controls. His fingers were stiff, trembling.

The canopy hissed open on its last functioning seal, and the noise of the crowd rushed in — warm, alive, overwhelming.

Rhian reached him first. She scrambled up the Lanstag's damaged leg, her face streaked with tears and dust, and threw her arms around his neck the moment he swung out of the seat.

"You idiot," she whispered into his shoulder. "You absolute idiot."

Alex held her with one arm, his other hand gripping the cockpit frame to keep them both from sliding off.

Borin's voice boomed from below. "That's my boy! That's the spirit, lad!"

Ziya stood at the base of the Lanstag, her hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes wide. When Alex looked down at her, she lowered her hands and shook her head slowly.

"You actually did it," she said. "Congratulations."

Anya climbed up next, her expression caught between admiration and exasperation. She gripped Alex's shoulder.

"That," she said, "was the most reckless thing I've ever seen. And I've seen Fia charge a Rank B with a broken shield."

Fia appeared behind Anya, grinning. "Congrats! Thanks to you I won the bet!"

Lyra and Seraphine hung back, but Lyra gave a small nod — the highest praise she offered. Seraphine smiled, her eyes soft.

Alex looked past them all to the Liger Zero.

The machine lay on its side, its white armor scorched and cracked, its golden claws still half-extended. Its optics were dark. But as Alex watched, the light in them flickered. Dim. Amber. Steady.

Not hostile. Not defiant.

Waiting.

Alex met those optics across the ruined field. The noise of the crowd faded to a distant hum. The Liger's core pulsed once — a low, resonant thrum he felt in his chest more than heard.

Partner.

Alex touched the blue stone pendant at his throat. Then he looked at the faces around him — Rhian still clinging to his arm, Ziya's quiet pride, Borin's booming laugh, Anya's reluctant respect.

He had built a machine that saved a city. He had fought a king and earned its respect.

And he hadn't done it alone.

The thought settled into him like a weld that finally held.

"All right," Alex said, his voice rough. "Let's go home."

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

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