"What on earth is an engineer?" The queen exclaims, her voice reverberating through the crowded underground workshop.

"Well, let me show you." Striding over to his desk, he grabs a dented breastplate off his desk.

"First, you probably want to stop trying to defeat expensive plate armor-" he stoops, grabbing a rapier off the floor "- with rapiers. since they're practically useless against armoured opponents, much less full plate armour."

"So what do you suppose? That we give up our very nation's pride? Next you'll tell me that our pride is not worth our lives, oh? Well, I'm of the mind to execute y-" The engineer slams the rapier into the breastplate, snapping it.

"Hey look buddy, I'm an engineer. That means I solve problems, not problems like "Is our pride worth our life?" Because that would fall within the purview of your conundrums of philosophy."

Pausing, he reaches into his safe, withdrawing a pistol.

"I solve practical problems, for instance: how am I going to stop some mean mother Hubbard from tearing this ridiculous fortress a new structurally unstable be-hind? The answer?"

Bang! A small dent appears in the armour.

"Use a gun, and if that don't work..."

Reaching over to another desk, he pulls out a shotgun.

"Use more gun."

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Bang! The blast from the shotgun rings in the Queen's ears, and she shuts her eyes in pain. As she opens them, she sees the breastplate in shreds, and a block of jelly behind it filled with metal beads.

"Well... That would work for a foot soldier, I'll concede that, but what about the... titans? Those walking walls are practically unstoppable. If you can't answer that, you'll be executed." She refutes, her voice still shaking from surprise. The engineer says nothing, just walks into another larger room, with the Queen tailing behind. The room is large and round, with strange crater filled walls and ceilings, and completely empty bar a sentry several times the engineer's size. Pointing at the wall, the Engineer continues.

"Imagine that's a titan. Now those mean mothers of scrap metal don't need precision, their practical walls. So if I don't need precision, I can just focus on power, murica style."

Suddenly, the turret beeps and points at the opposite wall. The barrels whirr as they rev up, and then, a beam of bullets so clustered together it might as well have been a laser fills the air, with rockets flying out into the wall as they speak. Within moments, the room's far wall has moved several meters. The engineer continues his explanation.

"Take for instance this heavy caliber tripod mounted lil' old number designed by me, built by me, and you best hope... not pointed at you." The engineer grins.

"So, about that whole executing me business. Are you gonna try? Or you gonna pay me a king's ransom so I can keep your lil' castle in shape?"

"I-I'll pay. Can you make those weapons for my soldiers?" The queen stammers. The engineer turns, his goggles hiding his fearsome stare as his neck extends towards the Queen.

"Nope"

"What!?" The Queen despairs. Her kingdom... ruined by one man's refusal.

"I only work some tough mother hubbards when it comes to these big jobs. You willing to foot the bill for a real crew?"

"Y-yes."

"Alrighty then!" The Engineer goes on to call the red team to help annihilate the Shadow kingdom from existence. With his newfound wealth, he goes on to become the reigning monarch of the YEEEEEE empire, known worldwide for alcoholism, firearms, and a general disregard for safety laws, often in combination.