Free Web NovelThe first one was the original mecha prototype.
That huge, boxy iron crate.
Thick armor plates, heavy treads, and a thick cannon barrel.
The entire mecha looked like a mobile fortress.
Pavela came to a halt.
She stared at this mecha.
She blinked once.
Then she blinked again.
Wait.
Isn't this a tank?
A tank from her past life.
Although the appearance was somewhat different and the details weren't quite the same, the overall design philosophy—
Treads, armor, cannon barrel, and a boxy chassis.
This was a tank.
A steam-powered, multi-crew, early-model tank.
Pavela's fingers tapped gently against the paper ice cream cup.
So the 'mecha' of this world actually had a tank as its original prototype?
And then, as technology developed, it gradually evolved into humanoid mecha?
This evolutionary path—
Was completely different from the technology tree of her past life.
In her past life, tanks were tanks, always maintaining that low-profile, wide, and heavily armored design.
No one would think about modifying a tank into a humanoid form.
Because doing so was pointless.
A humanoid form's stability, protection area, and center of gravity control on the battlefield were inferior to traditional tank designs in every way.
But this world was different.
This world had Return Power.
It had Spinal Probe technology.
It had methods that allowed a person's consciousness to directly control a mecha.
That's why humanoid mecha became possible.
Because when a pilot can control a mecha like their own body, the advantages of a humanoid form manifest—
Flexibility, coordination, and adaptability.
These were things traditional tanks could never match.
Pavela took another lick of her ice cream.
Her expression was a bit complicated.
“This is a design from imperial year 380.”
Dr. Lovelace's voice pulled her back to reality.
“Mecha back then still required five to seven people to operate.”
“They moved slowly, turned with difficulty, and had terrible coordination.”
“But in that era, it was already the most advanced weapon.”
Pavela nodded.
She didn't voice her thoughts from a moment ago.
She didn't blurt out, “This is just a tank.”
Because she didn't know how to explain it.
And—
There was no point in saying it.
This world's tech tree had already taken a completely different path from her past life.
She walked a circle around this 'tank'.
She could see the rivets on the armor plates, the wear marks on the treads, and the rust on the cannon barrel.
This mecha had clearly seen actual combat.
And more than once.
Next were the second, third, and fourth generations.
The mecha's appearance began to change.
From a heavy iron box, it gradually evolved into a more flexible humanoid form.
The armor became thinner, but the protection actually improved.
The weapons increased, but the weight actually decreased.
The crew was reduced from seven to five, then down to three.
Pavela watched this evolutionary process.
She could understand the logic behind every step of the improvement.
Reducing crew members to improve coordination.
Optimizing armor distribution to reduce weight while maintaining protection.
Increasing flexibility to improve mobility.
These were all reasonable technological advancements.
But she still felt it was a bit strange. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓
Because in her past life's understanding, a tank should look like a tank.
Low-profile, wide, and heavily armored.
Not this shape that looked more and more like a human.
And then—
Pavela saw a special mecha.
Its appearance was completely different from the previous ones.
It was no longer a heavy iron box, but a slender, elegant humanoid.
The seams of the armor plates were handled very finely, with almost no visible welding marks.
The joint design was also more complex, allowing for a wider range of motion.
Most importantly—
There was only one seat in its cockpit.
“This is a design from imperial year 392.”
Dr. Lovelace said,
“The first mecha equipped with Spinal Probe technology.”
“It was also my first successful work.”
There was a hint of pride in her tone.
Pavela stared at this mecha for a long time.
She could imagine the shock of the enemies when this mecha first appeared on the battlefield years ago.
A mecha that only required one person to operate.
Reaction speed, mobility, coordination—it crushed old-style mecha in every aspect.
It was practically a dimensional strike.
“It routed three of the Usar Union's old-style mecha during the Border Campaign.”
Dr. Lovelace continued,
“That battle only lasted seventeen minutes.”
“Three old-style mecha, fifteen pilots—all killed in action.”
“While this mecha's pilot was completely unscathed.”
Pavela nodded.
She could understand.
Single-pilot mecha and multi-crew mecha simply weren't on the same level.
It was like one brain commanding one body versus seven brains commanding one body.
The coordination and reaction speed of the former were something the latter could never hope to achieve.
Next was the currently active main-force Royal Knight mecha.
Pavela recognized this model. frёeωebɳovel.com
She had seen it during the Night of Calderburg.
Not just seen it.
She had also destroyed eleven of them.
Seeing this mecha, Pavela's mood was a bit complicated.
“This is the Victorian Empire's current main-force model.”
Dr. Lovelace said,
“Stable performance, simple maintenance, and relatively low production costs.”
“It's a very mature design.”
Pavela didn't speak.
She just stared at the mecha.
She remembered that night.
She remembered those mecha she had destroyed.
She remembered those pilots.
She didn't know their names.
She didn't know their faces.
She only knew they were dead.
Dead by her hand.
Dr. Lovelace noticed Pavela's expression.
“What is it?”
“...Nothing.”
Pavela shook her head,
“Let's continue.”
Dr. Lovelace glanced at her but didn't press further.
They continued walking forward.
And then—
Pavela saw the test models for the new mecha.
The appearance of these mecha began to turn fantastical.
Some mecha had huge wings growing from their backs.
The limbs of some mecha had been modified into animal shapes.
Some mecha even completely abandoned the humanoid form, turning into some strange, indescribable shape.
“These are all early test models for flight-capable mecha.”
Dr. Lovelace said,
“Each one represents a different design philosophy.”
Pavela walked closer to one of them.
This mecha had a pair of huge metal wings on its back.
The skeleton of the wings was made of steel, covered with a thin layer of metal plates that looked like feathers.
It looked quite beautiful.
But—
“How did this mecha's pilot die?”
Pavela asked.
Dr. Lovelace was stunned for a moment.
“How did you know the pilot died?”
“The cockpit was burned through.”
Pavela pointed at the cockpit's location,
“And the burn direction is from the inside out.”
“This means an explosion or high-temperature combustion occurred inside the cockpit.”
“I'm afraid it would be hard for the pilot to survive that.”
Dr. Lovelace fell silent for a few seconds.
Then she nodded.
“You're right.”
“During a takeoff test, this mecha's steam boiler overloaded, and the temperature inside the cockpit instantly rose to over three hundred degrees.”
“The pilot was turned to charcoal.”
Pavela's eyelid twitched.
She looked at another mecha.
This mecha's limbs had been modified into bird-like claws.
It also had wings on its back, but they weren't metal plates; they were some kind of fabric.
“What about this one?”
“Crashed.”
Dr. Lovelace said,
“The wings were torn apart in the air, and the mecha fell from a height of three hundred meters.”
“The pilot was turned into mush.”
Pavela looked at the third one.
This mecha had four huge thrusters on its back.
“This one?”
“Out of control.”
Dr. Lovelace said,
“The thrust of the injection system was unbalanced, and the mecha spun at high speed in the air.”
“The pilot was folded in half.”
Pavela fell silent.
She continued walking forward.
Looking at them one by one.
Beside every mecha, Dr. Lovelace would briefly explain the pilot's cause of death.
Burned to death.
Fell to death.
Snapped spine.
Torn apart by explosion.
Cooked by high-pressure steam.
Accidental injury from a mechanical arm.
Backlash from their own weapon.
There was even one pilot who was crushed to death by their own mecha.
A joint jammed during landing, the cockpit was flattened, and the pilot—
Died quite artistically.
Pavela truly hadn't expected someone could die like that.
She took a lick of her ice cream.
The ice cream had already started to melt, and a drop ran down her finger.
She licked away the drop of melted ice cream with her tongue.
Then she looked at Dr. Lovelace.
“So.”
She said.
“The mecha you're planning to design for me isn't going to be like this too, is it?”
