The workshop had never felt so alive.
Pipes hummed, tools sparked, and the smell of ozone filled the air. Lyra knelt beside Rustfang's open chest cavity, light from her wrist projector dancing across the metal.
Rayan leaned against the wall, sipping cold coffee. "So... what exactly are we doing again?"
Lyra didn't look up. "Trying not to blow up the town, for starters."
"Comforting."
She gestured at the mecha's inner workings — a labyrinth of gears, wires, and glowing crystal veins. At its center pulsed a sphere of pale blue light.
"This," she said, "is a Core Pulse Reactor. Every ancient mech had one. It's not just an engine — it's a living conduit of energy. Some call it artificial qi."
Rayan whistled. "So, you're saying my new roommate runs on soul juice?"
Lyra frowned. "Something like that. And yours is different. It's synchronized to you."
"Confirmed," Rustfang's voice rumbled from its chest. "Resonance pattern locked. Energy stable within pilot's life signature."
Lyra's eyes widened. "That's impossible. Only the old Vanguard pilots could achieve a living sync — and they were trained from birth."
Rayan blinked. "Guess I skipped a few lessons."
As Lyra worked, Rustfang began to project fragments of memory — holograms flickering into the dusty air.
Images of towering citadels. Flying mechs gliding over glowing rivers. Warriors in silver armor.
"Ardentia," Rustfang said softly, "before the Collapse."
Rayan stepped closer, mesmerized. "That's... the world? It used to look like that?"
Lyra's voice grew quiet. "Yeah. Before the Relic War. Before the mechs turned on their own creators."
Rayan looked at her. "You mean... machines like you?"
Rustfang paused. "Some of us were corrupted. The Pulse fractured. I… remember defending the last gate."
For a moment, the air was heavy with memory — like ghosts whispering from forgotten ages.
A sudden tremor shook the workshop. Tools clattered. The lights dimmed.
Lyra's eyes darted to the readings on her scanner. "There's another energy signature nearby — same frequency as Rustfang's!"
"Detection confirmed," Rustfang growled. "Class: hostile. Designation: Warden Unit 03."
"Hostile?" Rayan repeated. "You mean another giant killer robot?"
Lyra grabbed her pack. "Exactly that. And it's heading straight for Scrapveil."
Rayan's stomach dropped. "Why would it come here?"
Rustfang's voice deepened.
"Because it senses me."
Outside, the horizon glowed red — lightning streaking through the clouds.
A metallic roar echoed across the valley.
Rayan muttered, "I knew today was gonna suck."
Lyra turned to him. "We need to move Rustfang before it gets here. He can't fight in this state."
Rustfang's eye flared.
"Correction: Combat systems at 43%. Pilot synchronization required."
Rayan blinked. "Hold up — me? You want me to pilot you?"
"You are already linked. Only your command can unlock full capacity."
Lyra nodded urgently. "If you don't, we're dead."
Rayan stared at the glowing core, then at the trembling ground outside. "I can't even drive a cart straight!"
"Then learn quickly," Rustfang said.
A metallic platform extended from the mech's back, forming a seat surrounded by light rings.
Rayan hesitated — heart pounding — then climbed in. The seat closed, surrounding him with flowing circuits of blue light.
He gasped as a surge of warmth flooded his mind.
He felt Rustfang — the weight of metal limbs, the hum of engines, the heartbeat of the core.
"Synchronization complete."
Outside, lightning split the clouds as a dark silhouette emerged — a colossal machine twice Rustfang's size, its armor cracked and glowing with crimson energy.
Lyra's voice trembled. "That's not just a relic… it's possessed."
Rayan gritted his teeth. "Then let's exorcise it."
He reached forward instinctively — and Rustfang moved with him, its massive arm rising. The ground cracked underfoot.
BOOM.
The two giants faced each other under the storm.
The first battle of the new age had begun.