Zora steadied herself against the wall just outside the portal, her stomach doing backflips.
"Damn it... I still can't get used to this," she muttered.
Siri zipped in front of her. "At least I don't make you feel like that," she chirped, then darted away before Zora could respond.
Zora rolled her eyes. Her stomach finally began to settle.
"Are we heading to the shop? It's about that time," Aegis asked.
Zora pulled out her phone. 5:30.
"Shit. He's gonna be pissed."
She broke into a jog, racing down the hallway, bounding down the stairs, and bursting out the front door. A truck skidded past her with a blaring horn—Zora waved sheepishly and mouthed "Sorry" before continuing.
She passed the animal building, veered past the farms, and slowed to a jog near the refugee intersection. Ahead stood a gray concrete building, and just as she approached—
BOOM! A small explosion puffed smoke from behind the door.
Zora pushed it open and stepped inside. A large black man behind the front desk glanced up from his notepad, looking at her above his glasses.
"You're fifteen minutes late," he said. "He's not gonna be happy."
Zora shrugged. "I'll just have to deal with it."
She pushed through the back door and entered chaos.
The warehouse was a storm of junked electronics—wires sparking, servos whining, loose motors twitching on metal tables. She weaved carefully through a narrow path carved between mountains of scrap.
He seriously needs to clean this place again, she thought.
"DUCK!"
Zora hit the ground just as a fan blade whizzed over her head and clanged into a stack of gears behind her. She looked up.
Daniel leaned over the catwalk above, grinning.
"Sorry! This latest project's been kicking our ass!"
Zora waved off the concern. "It's fine! How is he?"
"Not happy with you!" Daniel shouted. "I'll meet you there!"
He vanished into the ceiling. Zora sighed and continued down the makeshift aisle, eventually reaching a large open area with cars, robots, and neatly stacked mechanical parts lining both sides.
At the end sat a small mechanic's shop—lit, humming, and filled with the steady crackle of focused work.
There, sitting in a stool, bent over a glowing circuit board, was Jackson.
Five-foot-two and full of stubborn fire, Jackson hunched in deep concentration, soldering glowing wires with hands lit by his Eidolon's power.
Zora smiled and rang the tiny bell on his table—one he'd installed specifically for her.
He ignored it.
She rang it again. Nothing.
She smirked and started ringing repeatedly until he finally looked up, glaring.
"You can't ignore me forever!" Zora called.
Daniel emerged from behind a junked car and leaned down to whisper in Jackson's ear.
Jackson grunted, then nodded—waving Zora over.
Zora sighed in relief. "Not too mad," she whispered to Aegis.
Jackson stared at her as she approached.
"You... is late," he said, signing part of it, then pointed at the wall clock. 5:45.
Zora gave a dramatic bow. "I'm sorry, my king."
Daniels expression froze, surprised. "What the hell was that?" he asked asked, eyes flicking between them.
"He said that if I was ever late again, this is how I should apologize," Zora replied, deadpan.
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses and untied the red bandanna from his head, letting his black hair fall loose.
"Please just call him Jackson… you know… his name." He whacked Jackson lightly with the bandanna. "And you—stop messing with her."
Jackson burst into laughter.
Zora joined in. These two were the only members of the camp's mechanical division, and to her, they were perfect.
Jackson's Eidolon gave him a divine-level understanding of tech. Despite having Down syndrome, he outclassed every engineer Zora had ever met. That brilliance was amplified further by the blessing of Hephaestus himself.
Daniel was no slouch either. His Eidolon allowed him to record perfect blueprints of anything he laid eyes on. While Jackson built wonders, Daniel preserved them.
Together, they were unstoppable.
Zora looked around the humming shop. Drones floated above their workstations. A half-finished mech twitched in the corner, waiting to be born.
And in this mess of smoke and sparks...
She smiled.
Yeah… this is exactly where I need to be.
Zora felt herself relax for the first time all day as the laughter faded.
Jackson waddled over to the corner of the shop and grabbed a stool. He dragged it back beside his workstation and set it down with a grin.
"Sit… here," he said, patting it proudly before plopping back into his own seat.
Daniel moved off to a filing cabinet in the back while Zora took the offered stool. She settled in beside Jackson and smiled at him.
"How are you, Jackson?"
He puffed out his chest and flexed his arms. "Big robot!" he declared, loud and proud, throwing his arms wide.
Daniel returned with his arms full of rolled-up schematics and smacked Jackson gently on the back of the head. "We're not making robots today, remember? General Vance wants armor. Suits, not mechs."
Jason pouted but turned back to the circuit board in front of him, fingers already glowing with precision.
Daniel laid the schematics out on the table in front of Zora, gesturing to a blackened pile of scrap metal encircled by a scorched ring on the floor.
"The explosion earlier?" he said casually. "That was prototype one. As you can see, didn't go quite as planned."
"We got dis!" Jackson shouted, eyes burning with resolve.
"Yes, you do!" Zora said, laughing.
She turned back to Daniel. "So what are we working on today?"
Daniel adjusted his glasses and spread the schematics wider.
"We already covered swords, knives—all the old-school stuff. Now we're moving on to modern weapons." He tapped the top page, which was labeled in pencil: Colt .45.
"Revolvers are simple. Easy to start with. Mass-produced for centuries, minimal moving parts. I won't bore you with the history—just let me know when you're ready to move on."
With that, he wandered off into the towering rows of stacked junk, humming to himself.
Zora cracked her neck and stretched her arms. "Aegis, you ready?"
Aegis zipped into her chest with a pulse of warmth. Okay, Colt .45 revolver. Simple design. Let's break it down.
Zora leaned in, studying the schematic. She traced each component with her finger while Aegis quietly repeated the names of internal parts—cylinder, hammer, barrel, trigger assembly—guiding her through the function of each.
Hours passed. Her focus never wavered.
Finally, she held out her hand, picturing the weapon in her mind: the weight, the balance, the steel frame, the textured grip.
She imagined the rotating chamber. The way it would feel to hold, to fire.
Then she felt it—a solid weight forming in her palm. Cold metal.
She opened her eyes.
A perfectly rendered Colt .45 revolver sat in her hand. For a second, she smiled.
Then, it fell apart.
The gun clattered to the floor and dissolved into smoke.
"Damn it," Zora muttered. "What happened?"
Aegis was silent for a moment. Hell if I know. Back to the schematics.
Zora sighed.
A gentle tap landed on her shoulder. She turned and saw Jason beaming at her, holding two mismatched plates.
Each one had a sandwich and a generous pile of chips.
"Eat now!" he announced, thrusting one toward her.
Zora took it, smiling gratefully. "Thanks, Jason."
She turned her stool to face the rest of the shop, taking in the view of the warehouse bathed in orange light from the setting sun.
Jackson flopped down next to her with a heavy whump, sending a few chips tumbling off his plate.
"Aww…" he whimpered, bottom lip jutting out in pure distress.
Zora laughed and offered her plate. "Here, take some of mine."
His eyes lit up as he scooped half her chips onto his plate. "Thanks, Zowa."
They ate in silence, the shop buzzing faintly around them. Sparks crackled in the background. Drones ticked and clicked in idle loops.
Zora looked out at the horizon, the junkyard bathed in golden light, the camp quieting for the night.