Morning in Iron Hearth no longer began with the gentle chirping of birds or the soft rustle of leaves. Instead, the South Paddock—a vast, open expanse of reinforced concrete and gravel usually reserved for the rumbling treads of Titan-class tanks—was now filled with a high-pitched, ear-splitting shriek. It wasn't the roar of a biological beast, but the agonizing scream of mana-turbines being pushed to their absolute rotational limits.
In the center of the field, the Sudrath Griffin-01 stood with a predatory poise. Its duralumin chassis, polished to a dull silver sheen, caught the pale rays of the morning sun. The massive overhead rotor blades remained still for now, but the mana-steam engine mounted along its spine hissed and groaned, venting plumes of white vapor that signaled the internal pressure had reached its critical operational threshold.
