Blastfurnace finally managed to steady the mech.
He shoved the control lever twice before dragging its centre of gravity back from where it had tilted to the left.
The ten-metre-tall iron monstrosity shuddered for another four or five seconds before finally stabilizing.
Blastfurnace caught his breath and looked down.
Gragoth hadn’t run.
The four-metre-tall figure stood in the middle of the three-way intersection with his massive axe resting on his shoulder, looking up at him.
“Blastfurnace.” “What?” “Got a question for ya.” Blastfurnace tightened his grip on the control lever warily.
“What?” Gragoth pointed at the mech beneath him.
“You built this thing?” Blastfurnace immediately puffed out his chest.
“Course I did!
I built it!
I fink it can run, so it can run!” “Oh.” Gragoth nodded, then suddenly raised his voice.
“But I fink—it looks like it’s about to fall over.” The industrial district went quiet for a moment.
Blastfurnace’s expression changed.
“Bullshit!” Gragoth pointed toward the mech’s left leg.
After Stikk had yanked on it earlier, the hydraulic piston was visibly crooked, and the foot was landing half a metre off its proper position.
The machine was barely standing, but its entire centre of gravity was clearly shifted to one side.
Several nearby Orks instinctively followed his finger and looked over.
A young Ork scratched his head.
“I fink…
it does look kinda crooked.” “Da leg’s bent.
Course it’s easier to fall over.” “I fink something that big’s gotta fall even easier if it’s leaning.” The voices quickly spread from the front toward the back.
Blastfurnace panicked.
“Shut up!
Who says it’s gonna fall?!” He slammed the control lever forward.
Boom!
All six smokestacks belched black smoke at once as the massive mechanical leg stomped down.
Then the entire mech suddenly lurched to the left.
“Fuck!” “It really is crooked!” Blastfurnace frantically worked the controls.
The crooked left leg dragged half a circle across the ground before he forcibly pulled the machine upright again.
“See?!” He leaned over the edge of the cockpit and roared.
“It didn’t fall!
I fink it’s steady as hell!” Gragoth wasn’t looking at him.
He raised his head toward the mech’s chest.
More than a dozen engines of different sizes had been crammed inside.
Exhaust pipes crossed over one another.
High-pitched engines screamed at high revs, slower ones rumbled deeply, and gears clattered together, all of it blending into a mess that made the entire breastplate vibrate.
“What about those?” Blastfurnace paused.
“What?” “More than a dozen engines, and they ain’t even spinning at da same speed.” Gragoth tilted his head slightly.
“One’s fast, one’s slow, and they’re clattering all over da place.” “I fink…
are they fighting each other?” The nearby Meks froze.
They instinctively pricked up their ears.
Rumble— Whine— Clack.
Clack.
The engine cluster that had previously just sounded loud suddenly really did seem like a group of things competing against one another.
One Mek stared at the engine on the far right for several seconds.
“I fink…
it really does sound like it.” Another frowned.
“That one’s spinning too fast.” “Da belt next to it is slipping.” “Da middle one’s leaking oil.” More and more Orks looked up.
Before, whenever they looked at the machine, all they saw was something big, powerful, and covered in smoke.
Now that they looked again— The leg was crooked.
The engines were a mess.
The right arm was carrying an obviously oversized heavy cannon.
Exposed wires slapped against the iron shell with every vibration.
No matter how they looked at it, something seemed wrong.
Blastfurnace suddenly began to panic.
“Shut up, all of ya!” He slammed the control lever forward.
“I fink there’s nothing wrong with it, so there’s nothing wrong with it!” The mech surged forward.
The enormous mechanical claw swept across.
Gragoth dodged sideways.
Boom!
Half a factory wall was smashed apart by the iron claw.
But just as the mech turned— Snap!
A cable outside the cockpit suddenly erupted in blue sparks.
Blastfurnace froze.
Gragoth looked up.
“Blastfurnace!
Your iron shell’s leaking electricity!” “Bullshit!” Snap!
A second cable burst.
Then a third.
Then a fourth.
Blue electrical arcs flickered across the mech’s outer shell one after another.
A Gretchin carrying parts happened to walk past and was struck by one of the arcs.
Every hair on its body instantly stood on end as it froze stiff in place.
It stood there blankly for several seconds.
“Am I cooked?” An Ork beside it sniffed.
“Kinda.” A brief pause.
“Smells pretty good too.” But no one laughed this time.
Because every Ork was looking upward.
The crooked left leg.
The chaotic engines.
The obviously unbalanced cannon arm.
The constantly flashing electrical arcs.
And the increasingly rapid clacking noises coming from inside the mech.
Blastfurnace frantically slapped the control panel.
“What da hell’s happening?!” Gragoth finally grinned.
He didn’t answer Blastfurnace.
Instead, he turned around and looked across the entire industrial district.
Several hundred green heads were all staring up at the same machine.
Gragoth raised a hand.
“What d’you lot fink—” He pointed toward the steel monster that was still smoking, leaking oil, and spitting sparks.
“How much longer can it hold together?” At the very front, a young Ork muttered quietly.
“I fink…
not much longer.” Someone beside him immediately agreed.
“I fink so too.” The voices began spreading outward.
Ten.
Dozens.
More than a hundred.
The longer some Orks looked, the more crooked the left leg seemed.
The longer others listened, the more wrong the engines sounded.
Even the Orks who had thought the machine looked impressive just moments ago now felt that there wasn’t a single solid part anywhere on it.
Gragoth looked up at the cockpit again.
“Blastfurnace.” “I fink this thing of yours—” “is about to give out!” Blastfurnace gripped the control lever tightly.
“Bullshit!” His voice was already starting to tremble.
“I fink it ain’t gonna break!” Gragoth didn’t argue with him.
There was no need anymore.
Behind him, four or five hundred voices were speaking at the same time.
“I fink it’s gonna break.” “I fink it’s gonna fall.” “I fink it’s gonna blow.” “I fink—” “I fink—” “I fink!” Hundreds of “I fink”s overlapped from every direction.
The thoughts of four or five hundred Orks all pointed toward the same result at that moment.
This thing was going to break.
The voices grew louder.
More chaotic.
Yet it was as though some invisible force was pressing toward the mech from across the entire industrial district.
Blastfurnace’s expression changed completely.
“Stop fucking finking!” The next second— Clack.
Blastfurnace suddenly looked down.
“…What was that?” CLACK!
The second sound was louder.
The hydraulic piston in the left leg suddenly burst apart without warning.
Black engine oil sprayed outward.
Blastfurnace’s pupils contracted.
“Impossible!” Almost at the same time, the more than a dozen engines in the chest suddenly fell into complete chaos.
One overloaded.
Two stalled.
The remaining engines fought madly over their revs as though they really were battling one another.
Snap!
Snap!
Snap!
Electrical arcs exploded across the iron shell.
The cannon arm on the right suddenly dropped downward.
The entire mech lost its balance.
Blastfurnace frantically pulled at the control lever, but it was already useless.
BOOM!
The ten-metre-tall mech crashed onto its side.
The ground shook violently.
Metal fragments and rubble were swept outward by the impact.
Blastfurnace was thrown straight out of the cockpit, flipped twice through the air, and crashed headfirst into a garbage pile.
Dust and smoke surged into the sky.
The industrial district went silent for two seconds.
Several hundred Orks stared at the enormous machine lying on the ground.
The young Ork at the very front scratched his head.
“See?” “I fink I said it was gonna fall.” ————————————————————
It really helps the fic grow!