Drex stared at the mech frame. Nothing worked.

  The servos twitched out of sync. The frame leaned left even when powered down. The main battery had shorted twice and fried half the diagnostics slate. And the cockpit was still just a rusted seat bolted to scrap plating. Wires hung like vines. Panels were missing. One leg was beginning to buckle under its own weight.

  They’d worked three days straight. It still looked like junk.

  Across the yard, Juno crouched beside an old turret core, stripping wire with a broken-handled blade. He didn’t look up. Didn’t need to.

  Drex dropped the slate on the bench. The screen flickered once and died. He sat down hard, elbows on knees, fingers laced over the back of his head.

  “This isn’t going to work,” he said.

  Juno kept working.

  Drex rubbed his face. His palms came away streaked with grease. “Even if we get it to run, one hit from anything in that tower and it’s done. There’s no armor, no redundancy, no real weapons. Just scrap bolted together and hope.”

  Juno walked over and dropped the stripped cables on the bench with a soft clatter. “You done?”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Drex looked up, eyes tired. “We’re not military. We don’t have access to proper cores or plating. We don’t even know what’s inside the tower past the first room.”

  Juno didn’t answer. Just stared.

  “I’m serious,” Drex said. “This whole thing might be a waste of time.”

  “You think the tank crew had better odds?”

  “They had tanks.”

  “Alone. No support. Same setup. Three people, three vehicles. They rolled the dice and made it.”

  Drex shook his head. “They also had training. Full diagnostics. Satellite feeds. Hell, their rigs were made for this. Ours isn’t even balanced.”

  “You want to quit, just say it.”

  That shut Drex up.

  The wind picked up. Loose wiring on the mech’s shoulder mount shifted and clinked against the frame. Something buzzed in the power box before snapping off.

  Drex stared at the mech again. It wasn’t impressive. Just scaffolding, exposed wiring, and repurposed industrial gear. Nothing smooth. Nothing clean. No paint. No polish. Just effort. Too much effort. And not enough return.

  But it was his build.

  Every weld. Every bolt. Every compromise.

  He let out a long breath through his nose. “We need a real core. The drone ones won’t cut it. No stabilization, no backup. They can’t even hold a charge under load.”

  Juno nodded. “Rail depot’s got old defense units. If we’re lucky, one still runs. If not, we gut two.”

  Drex nodded back. “We’ll need to reinforce the left leg too. It’s warping under frame weight. Might shear on uneven ground.”

  “I’ll pull steel bars from the east stack. Strip the insulation and torch the ends.”

  Drex’s shoulders eased. The shake in his hands stopped. He didn’t smile. But his jaw unclenched.

  “Alright,” he said. “Back to work.”

  Juno turned and headed for the stack.

  Drex picked up the slate again. Dead. He tossed it aside, grabbed a wrench instead.

  They didn’t say anything else.

  The tower was still out there.

  And they weren’t done yet.