"We have mobility subsystems and sensors from other mechs that were salvaged. The missing leg can also be printed from the remaining materials. Artificial musculature…" Rennick muttered, his brows furrowed as he descended into the workshop, "…I don't think we have any left to make that."
The low, rhythmic clanging of tools echoed from the far side of the room. Jean was hunched over a battered medium-class power reactor, stripped open like a corpse on a battlefield.
"Is it in any shape to work?" Rennick asked, eyeing the sorry condition of the reactor.
Jean didn't even look up. "Afraid not, boss. This one was worse off than I thought. I managed to get it running briefly — just long enough to feel hopeful — but the efficiency is abysmal. It conks out after a few minutes."
Rennick stepped closer as Jean cracked open the casing further. Inside, scorched capacitors and hairline fractures in several coolant channels told the story. Jean grimaced.
"As I thought. Some of the core energy regulators are cooked."
Rennick crouched beside him, studying the warped components. After a few seconds of silence, he nodded. "See if any of the other junkers in storage have reactors with a similar power output. You might be able to salvage some compatible coolant channels, Capacitors and relays."
"You're hoping we Frankenstein the internals?" Jean smirked.
"We don't have the luxury to do otherwise. Power reactors are too expensive to buy for our budget."
Rennick rose and turned to walk toward the aging industrial 3D printer near the back wall — a massive, humming brute of a machine that still bore burn marks from a cooling malfunction last month. He hoped the materials inventory hadn't changed since last week, but as he opened the cabinet and checked the composite cartridges, his shoulders sagged.
"Just as I thought," he muttered. "Barely any weaves left for the musculature. We'd be lucky to print one full limb, let alone an entire load-bearing structure."
Jean called out from behind him, "By the way, we've also got no heat venting systems left. We used up the last ones when we built that Marksman mech for Freddy's new recruit."
Rennick sighed, rubbing his eyes with two fingers. "I'll order some fresh venting modules."
Turning back to the depleted storage, he mumbled, "Would've been easier if we were cobbling together a Frankenstein mech for some barfight duel — the kind that only needs to last a few minutes of showy violence."
But this wasn't one of those jobs.
This was a variant.
A proper variant of a knight-class chassis — a design evolution. It had to function, survive, and train its pilot. Rennick couldn't afford to cut corners here. Not this time.
When he made his way back to Jean, he found him cross-legged beside the open reactor, tools scattered around like the aftermath of a whirlwind. The familiar, steady hum of reactivated coils filled the air — low, deep, and satisfying.
The reactor was alive again.
"You never fail to impress me," Rennick said, folding his arms with a half-smile. "I swear, you could probably coax power out of a rock if you tried hard enough."
Jean looked up with an exaggerated grin, wiping grease on his shirt. "Well, if I want to design mechs that waste no power and squeeze every last drop of juice from the reactor, I better start here, right?"
Rennick chuckled. "So, you're saying this is all part of your master plan?"
"Obviously. A good mech is like a good engine — smooth, reliable, and never lets you down when it counts."
"Well, we will need every bit of power from the reactor, if we want the mech to perform at optimal condition. Have you checked the engine?" Rennick asked moving on to the engine.
"Fortunately, the engine of the Westhaven Guardian, although in a bad shape was repairable and if we replace some old components with new ones we can bring up its performance close to current generation engines." Jean said causing Rennick to sigh in relief. This was the best news he'd heard all day.
"Alright, you handle that and I will buy out the materials we are missing." Rennick said going off to buy the rest of the missing materials.
"You're the boss," Jean muttered, already elbow-deep in the internals of the mech's abdomen, pulling out a fused converter.
Rennick went on to his terminal and open the MTA component library on the galactic net and started browsing the Armor section for the medium class knights, as he shuffled through multiple designs and formulas, he found an armor that fit his requirements.
Helix Double Layer Armor System-Craft and Armor Solution.
Cost: 2.5 Million Seed Credits
The armor, though not as protective as the more expensive variants, was valued for its modularity and highly configurable design.
The cost of the neural interface came a little above 1 Million Seed Credits, which made him wince slightly but he decided to bear the cost, if it ensures pilot's safety.
Next, he turned to the neural interface. "The old one's too damaged," he muttered. "It's always safer to just buy a new MTA-grade standard than risk accidents with pilots."
He also searched for the artificial musculature and decided on a slightly stronger fibre material than the usual stock they usually use.
As he purchased the heat sinking vents and other important components, when he saw the total cost, it made him wince as the total came to 5.4 million Seed credits. Nonetheless, he bit down his complaints at the costs and paid the price for the components.
"All this just to make one Mech unit." He sighed.
By the time evening rolled around, the workshop was bathed in a dusky orange glow through grime-smeared windows. Shadows from the dangling tool racks stretched long across the floor, and the scent of burned polyplastic and synthetic lubricant hung thick in the air. The rhythmic hum of machines slowly wound down as the day's labor came to a close.
Rennick stretched with a satisfied grunt and called over, "Let's move on to the design phase. With almost all the equipment prepped, I think we're ready."
Jean looked up from calibrating the reactor output curves, eyes lighting up. "Finally," he said, wiping his hands on a rag as he made his way over to the main terminal.
Just as Rennick reached for the console to open the design suite, the clunk of boots on metal floor announced someone's arrival. Freddy stepped into the workshop carrying a modest-sized, scuffed-up box in his arms.
"How's the work going? I didn't disturb you too, did I?" he asked, setting the box down on the nearest table.
Rennick glanced back with mild curiosity. "No, you're fine. But what brings you here at this hour? Want to check on the mech's progress?"
Freddy grinned, shaking his head. "Not exactly. I came to show you something. Remember when you asked where the name came from?"
Rennick raised an eyebrow. Jean stepped closer to peek at the box — only to have Freddy block him with a playful scowl.
"The name came from this," Freddy said as he carefully opened the box and lifted out something neither of them expected.
A book.
Real paper. A physical cover. Weathered edges. The unmistakable scent of aged cellulose and ink wafted into the air — a scent nearly extinct in their digital world.
"I told you my mom was a writer, right? This is one of her short stories. It's about a knight — the Westhaven Guardian. I thought maybe if you read it, it might help with your design. Some inspiration, maybe."
Jean blinked. "You serious? A paper book?"
Freddy chuckled at their stunned silence. "Yeah. I've been saving it. Figured this was the right time."
They both nodded — reverently, almost — and after washing off the day's grease and grime, sat down beside a workbench under a flickering overhead lamp.
The story began simply. A man in a fantasy world, born on the harsh streets of Westhaven — a place constantly under threat from monsters, bandits, and the dangers of the unknown. The protagonist, Caelum, was a street orphan adopted by a retired soldier who taught him swordsmanship. Through years of struggle, Caelum climbed the ranks in the city militia, eventually becoming a Captain of the city guard.
As the story unfolded, both Rennick and Jean grew silent, drawn in. The imagery, though archaic, was vivid — battles, brotherhood, sacrifice. Caelum stood tall through it all, becoming a steadfast symbol of the city's resilience.
But then, everything changed.
A demon incursion tore through Westhaven, more brutal than anything before. Caelum fought — he bled, he endured — but in the end, he lost. Friends, family, the city itself… gone.
He abandoned his shield, the story said. Cast it aside at the ruins of the city square.
But he didn't give in to hatred.
He didn't descend into vengeance.
Instead, he became the edge.
A lone swordsman wandering the world, cutting down corruption and darkness. Bandits, demons, tyrants — any who preyed on the weak. And yet… he never killed in anger. Never rushed to strike. He always offered a warning — a chance.
His style became legend.
The Tempered Path.
A fighting form that balanced strength and restraint. One sword. No shield. Precision over savagery. Forward motion without rage.
Jean exhaled slowly and placed the book down with care, as if afraid to disturb the pages. "Damn. That was… incredible. I didn't know your mom had that kind of imagination. The imagery… the whole arc. That knight felt real."
Freddy smiled, though his voice was quiet. "It was one of her last ones. She always said Caelum represented what people should try to be. Not perfect. Not invincible. Just… enduring. Chosen action over despair."
Rennick didn't speak.
He stared at the cooling reactor, but his thoughts were far away.
The imagery of Caelum lingered in his mind — the abandoned shield, the sword drawn in defense of ideals, not ego. A warrior shaped by loss, not consumed by it. Tempered.
Something clicked.
The name, the story, the symbolism — it all fit.
And more than that, it was already alive in Freddy's eyes. In the way Jean looked at the book. A legacy that had weight, emotional resonance. Meaning.
He didn't say anything to the others. Not about what he planned next. Not about the idea forming in the back of his mind.
But as he returned to the design terminal and opened the project file, he already knew what he wanted this mech to become.