Building Zoids in a World of Titans

The workshop had transformed again. Alex was building a transport. Nothing more, nothing less. A simple vehicle to carry his three Zoids, the Lanstag, the Arosaurer, and the Liger Zero, wherever they needed to go. Borin's crew had been welding all week, and Ziya had been under the chassis since dawn, checking torque specs on the axle housings.

The craftsmen moved with the easy confidence of people who understood heavy fabrication, and Alex moved among them, answering questions, adjusting measurements, making sure every weld met the standard he required.

It wasn't elegant. That was the first thing anyone would notice. The transport frame was built on a salvaged heavy-hauler chassis, reinforced with Titan-bone crossbeams and wrapped in layered armor plating that Borin's crew had welded into place over the past week.

Six massive wheels, each one taller than Alex, supported a flatbed platform with integrated securing clamps. A cab sat at the front, cramped but functional, with enough room for a driver, a navigator, and a week's worth of supplies.

"It looks like a box on wheels," Maren said, wiping grease from his hands.

"It's supposed to carry three Zoids across hundreds of kilometers of rough terrain," Alex said. "Elegance is not a design requirement."

Maren shrugged. "Fair enough."

Borin circled the vehicle, tapping the frame with a wrench. The sound rang solid. "The suspension's rated for eighty tons static load. Your three Zoids come in at what — two hundred and eighteen tons combined?"

"Give or take."

"Then we're running at less than forty percent capacity. Good margin." Borin nodded with satisfaction. "The real test is whether the axles hold when you hit a ravine at speed."

"They'll hold."

Ziya emerged from beneath the chassis, her coveralls streaked with hydraulic fluid. She held up a coupling bracket, its edges clean and precise. "The locking mechanism for the Liger Zero's frame is finished. I tested it with a three-ton dummy load. No flex."

Alex took the bracket, turning it over in his hands. The machining was flawless. "This is good work."

"I know," Ziya said, without a trace of false modesty. She pulled a rag from her pocket and wiped her hands. "The Arosaurer's clamps are already installed. The Lanstag's will be done by tomorrow. You'll be able to load all three and secure them in under an hour."

Borin clapped his hands together. "Then we run a full loading test tomorrow morning. I want to see how the frame handles the weight distribution before we send you anywhere."

Alex nodded and turned back to the transport. It was ugly, slow, and would probably break down at least twice on any long journey. But it would carry his Zoids, and that was what mattered.

Later that evening, Alex sat alone in the workshop's small office, a map spread across the desk. It showed the full breadth of the Xylos nation.

Xylos. The Verdant Confederacy. A loose alliance of city-states, tribal territories, and elder councils bound together by shared values rather than centralized power. Xylos mainly traded in agricultural products and bio-integrated tech.

The other nations were different stories. Aethelgard, the Fortress Republic, sat in the mountains to the north — a rigid military state governed by a High Council of generals and civilian representatives. They traded in refined alloys, energy cells, and defensive technology.

Solara, the Sunscorched Dominion, sprawled across the western deserts, ruled by a single ambitious leader advised by powerful Guilds. They dominated mining, geothermal energy, and advanced weaponry.

And then there was Argent Veil, the Mystical Frontier, a technocratic council of scholars who traded in knowledge, precision sensors, and esoteric components.

Four nations. Four approaches to surviving on Terrax. And between them, dozens of settlements, outposts, and frontier cities that answered to no single authority.

Alex traced his finger along the map. Emerald Spire was too far north, too deep in forest. Sunkenroot Port was coastal — good for trade, but not what he needed. Sky-Watcher's Roost was a research outpost, small and isolated.

Then his finger stopped.

Ironwood Junction. Eastern Xylos, where the Great Xylosian River met the foothills of the Stonefang Mountains. A major industrial hub — timber, minerals, Titan component salvage. The city had advanced forges, rare mineral markets, and access to Vita-Alloy and Flux Metal deposits in the surrounding mountains.

More than that, it bordered multiple biomes: dense Ironwood forests to the west, river deltas to the south, and the rugged Stonefang foothills to the east. Each biome hosted different Titan populations. Different components. Different possibilities.

Alex pulled a marker from the desk drawer and circled Ironwood Junction on the map. The ink bled slightly into the hide-fiber paper, a dark blue stain that looked like a target.

This was where he was going.

Three days later, the loading test went smoothly. The transport groaned under the combined weight of the Arosaurer, Lanstag, and Liger Zero, but the frame held, the axles held, and the wheels didn't sink into the packed earth of the workshop yard.

Borin declared it roadworthy. Ziya declared it ugly but functional. The Liger Zero, still clamped to the flatbed, let out a low rumble that might have been approval or might have been boredom.

Alex was running final diagnostics on the cab's control systems when he heard boots on gravel. He looked up.

Elara Vance walked into the workshop yard, flanked by her two usual guards.

"Well," she said. "That's the ugliest vehicle I've ever seen."

"It's a transport," Alex said.

"It's a crime against engineering." She walked along its length, running a hand along the armor plating. "Who designed this?"

"I did."

"That's surprising." She stopped at the front and turned to face him. "And you were going to leave without telling me."

"I'm not your subordinate, Elara."

"No. You're not." She crossed her arms. "But I thought we were friends."

Alex blinked. "What gave you that idea?"

She raised an eyebrow. "The fact that I gave you three hundred and forty thousand Sols, a workshop, and salvage rights. The fact that I defended you to the Guildmaster when he wanted to confiscate your technology. The fact that I've been feeding you intelligence on Titan movements for the past two months." She paused. "But sure. We're strangers."

Alex felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "I was going to send a message before I left."

"How considerate."

"I just needed to finish the preparations first."

Elara studied him for a moment, then her expression softened. She reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a sealed envelope — thick paper, stamped with the Warden Guild's mark.

"I heard you're heading to Ironwood Junction," she said.

Alex took the envelope. "News travels fast."

"I'm the Foreman. News travels to me first." She nodded at the letter. "That's a letter of introduction to Commander Edris Thane. She runs the Ironwood Junction Warden detachment. We served together years ago, before she transferred east. Give her that letter and she'll make sure you have a place to work, access to their component markets, and someone watching your back while you're in her territory."

Alex turned the envelope over in his hands. The seal was genuine — he could see the Guildmaster's personal mark pressed into the wax. This wasn't a casual favor. This was Elara calling in a debt from a fellow commander.

"Thank you," he said. "This is — more than I expected."

"I know." She stepped closer, her voice dropping. "Ironwood is a good city, but it's not Veridia. The Resource Council there is powerful, and they don't trust outsiders. Thane will vouch for you. Use that. And Alex — don't make me regret trusting you."

"I won't."

She held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. "Good." She turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh. And fix the suspension on that thing before you cross the Stonefang foothills. The roads out there will shake it apart."

She walked out of the yard, her guards falling into step behind her. Alex watched her go, then looked down at the letter in his hands.

He tucked it carefully into his jacket pocket, next to the blue stone pendant Rhian had given him.

He wasn't leaving today. But soon. The transport was ready. The Zoids were ready. The map was marked.

Ironwood Junction was waiting.

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