Through the ruined village, the machine plods on a six-footed gait, each step slow and deliberate. Smoke belches from joints and trails steadily from a row of exhaust pipes sticking out from the heavy walker’s back. Its long shadow warps and jumps over what is left of cottages and hollowed out general stores. A whirring, whining sound emits from the thing’s neck, metal joints creaking-- the mech shudders and lurches, its amble now halted, turret-skull completing a partial swivel and coming to rest. Its barrel, eight feet in length, stared down at the ground.
A hatch opens from atop the turret, and out pops a human, a reedy-looking man with broad shoulders and no bulk. He slumps against the ridge of the hatch, keeping the steel door ajar with his shoulder. He gives a low whistle, possibly in response to the destruction around him.
His expression, formerly bemused and slightly drawn, drops rather suddenly. He heaves himself out from the mech’s command hatch and onto the angled surface of its cranium in one fluid, practiced motion, but he doesn’t stop there-- no, the man continues, clambering down from his ride’s body with urgency. He stumbles only once when his boots hit cracked pavement. Then he’s off, ignoring the muffled demands of his crew ringing in his ears.
“Hey, hey! I saw you! Hey, kid!”
The man-- Frederick-- skids to a halt after cornering a pile of rubble rather sharply.
“Kid! Smokes, are you okay? Are you all alone?”
The kid cowers in the wake of Frederick’s presence, a frail being covered in soot and black ash. Human eyes flash fearfully from the void that is the child’s face, and white teeth are also bared in what can only be an aborted cry. Frederick kneels down, making his gangly stature small, and offers a calloused palm.
“I’m Frederick. I command that big ol’ monster over there, Royal Tiger. You heard of her? She’s an Armoured Soul-- you heard of them?”
As if on cue, the giant mech-- Royal Tiger-- swivels her massive turret-head around in the direction of the two humans. A second hatch has opened on her front port leg, and a new face peeks out.
The child nods, making a raspy noise. “I’ve heard’em-- they were supposed to be here, but they left.”
Frederick winces. He has no idea what to say about that-- that was a mystery his crew was sent to solve.
“Well, I’m here to get to the bottom of all that. Do you want to ride with me in the Royal Tiger? She’s friendly, I promise, and we can get you somewhere safer. Do you have any family?”
He talks when he’s anxious, on top of not knowing how to handle a kid. But the sooty, dirty child seems to not mind, merely staggering to their feet and approaching Frederick.
“My sister’s... hurt real bad. I think,” the kid says slowly. “I’ll take you to her.”
[ to be continued ]
