The engineering lab was quiet, half the equipment already tagged for decommission. A few stray boxes sat near the doors. Most of the good stuff was still there—for now.
“This wing gets cleared in two weeks,” Riley said, tapping her badge to unlock the main bay. “We’ve got time. Not much.”
Drex stepped inside. His eyes went straight to the design tables. The fabrication arms. The reinforced test platforms.
Juno headed for the reinforced windows. Checked line of sight. Habit.
Riley walked them to the back, past the 3D print labs, and tapped another door open.
Inside was a scaled-down tracked vehicle, shaped like a miniature tank. Twin-barrel turret. Compact body. Angled armor plating.
“Government prototype,” she said. “Tower-response platform. Remote-piloted or AI-driven. They’re calling it the Jackal.”
Drex circled it once. “Firepower?”
“120mm twin burst cannon. Rocket payload mount. Rear thermal dispersal grid. Fully sealed.”
Juno leaned in. “No cockpit?”
“Push-operated. No humans inside.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Drex didn’t speak. He just stared.
Finally: “That’s not what I want.”
Riley folded her arms. “It’s what the government thinks they need.”
Drex turned away. Headed back to the design terminals. Pulled up a blank chassis.
“Too bulky,” he muttered. “Too slow. Doesn’t adapt.”
He started sketching.
[MECH TYPE: CLOSE-RANGE BRAWLER]
Reinforced forearms
Modular flamethrower ports
Rear fuel capsule
Spiked knuckles or hydraulic punch assists
Mid-weight chassis, reinforced knees
Torso-mounted smoke flare bank
Notes: Prioritize aggression. High burst. Quick cooling.
Juno walked up behind him, tapped a different rig on the system.
“Mine’s not that,” he said.
He pulled up a second schematic. Simpler, heavier.
[MECH TYPE: FULL MELEE CRUSHER]
Weighted fists
Zero-range shock emitters
High-density frame
Internal gyro plates for recoil control
Armored chestplate
Shield mount on one side, break bar on the other
Notes: Prioritize durability. Grapple. Break limbs. Walk through anything.
Riley watched them both.
“You’re not building for tower progression,” she said. “You’re building to fight.”
Drex shrugged. “Same thing in there.”
“Your brawler’s going to burn fuel in minutes.”
“I’ll make it work.”
She shook her head. “I can help. But I’m not designing death traps for ego matches.”
Juno didn’t look away from his design. “Then don’t. We’ll build them anyway.”
Hours passed. The lab filled with the sound of humming printers and whirring servo tests. Riley argued specs. Drex rewired control systems. Juno rebalanced limb weight to favor punch-throughs instead of guard stances.
They weren’t just building mechs anymore.
They were building styles.
Drex was already picturing the flamethrower test rig when he muttered, almost to himself, “Next run, we don’t test the tower…”
Juno nodded. “We hit it.”