Kovacs’ avatar stood in the center of his virtual workshop, the holographic displays flickering to life around him. The familiar environment was meticulously crafted—a digital reflection of the spaces where he had spent countless hours tinkering and designing. Yet, as accurate as it appeared, there was always something off. He breathed deeply, expecting the familiar tang of hot metal and the chemical scent of lubricant, but the air was sterile, empty of the smells that usually accompanied his work. It was a small reminder that this was a simulation, not the physical world, but it allowed him to center himself, to push aside the anxiety gnawing at him since that ominous phone call.

He focused his thoughts, bringing up the design he had been working on before everything had gone sideways. The Devil’s Mantis—a sleek, fast scout mecha designed for agility and speed. It was intended to be a terror on the battlefield, with its flamethrowers and machine guns, a predatory force that could outmaneuver and outgun any infantry that crossed its path. But Kovacs knew that to make it a reality indeed, he needed to go beyond what had already been done. He needed to innovate, to push the boundaries of what was possible.

As the Devil’s Mantis schematics materialized in front of him, Kovacs allowed his gaze to wander over the intricate details. The external armor was already decided, a blend of lightweight composites that would give the Mantis its speed while maintaining durability. But it was the internal structure that caught his attention. This would be constructed from standard alloys in most mecha designs—solid and reliable but not exceptional. And that was the problem.

Kovacs wanted the Mantis to be more than just another fast scout. He wanted it to be a leap forward in design, something that would stand out, not just in the specs but in actual performance. That meant taking risks, experimenting with materials, and creating something new.

He reached out, his hand moving through the air to bring up the experimental section of his design suite. The virtual interface responded instantly, displaying a menu of options allowing him to manipulate the elements themselves. Here, he could craft new alloys, test their properties, and simulate their performance under various conditions.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, feeling the familiar surge of focus as he began to work. “Let’s see what we can come up with.”

Next to him, the small virtual duck materialized its bright yellow form, which is a stark contrast to the industrial surroundings of the workshop. The duck had become a companion, a sounding board for his ideas—a way to talk through problems without feeling like he was just mumbling to himself.

“So,” he said, turning to the duck as if it were a colleague, “we need something strong but lightweight, right? The internal structure has to support all the systems without adding too much bulk.”

The duck quacked in response, an acknowledgment, encouraging him to continue.

Kovacs tapped into the periodic table, summoning various elements into the simulation. Titanium was an obvious choice—light and strong, often used in aerospace applications. But he needed something more that could withstand the stresses the Mantis would face during high-speed maneuvers and combat.

“Titanium’s a good base,” he continued, “but what if we alloy it with something that can absorb impacts better? Maybe add some vanadium for strength and chromium for corrosion resistance?”

He began experimenting, combining different elements and watching as the virtual system calculated their properties in real time. The holographic alloy spun before him, its atomic structure visible as a lattice of interconnected nodes.

“Not bad,” Kovacs mused, studying the alloy’s tensile strength and density. “But it’s still too brittle. We need more flexibility without losing too much strength.”

The duck quacked again, and Kovacs smiled. “Good point. What about adding a trace of molybdenum? It could enhance toughness and make the structure more resilient under stress.”

He adjusted the composition, and the alloy shifted in response, its properties recalculating. The result was promising—stronger, more durable, and flexible, allowing the Mantis to absorb impacts without compromising its integrity.

“This could work,” Kovacs said, more to himself than to the duck, though it bobbed its head in agreement. “It’s got the strength we need, and it’s light enough to keep the Mantis fast.”

He ran a series of simulations, testing the alloy under extreme temperatures, high-impact collisions, and the constant wear and tear of rapid movements. The virtual environment provided instant feedback, showing how the alloy performed in scenarios that would be impossible to replicate in the real world without expensive and time-consuming testing.

The more he worked, the more confident he became. This new alloy wasn’t just an improvement; it was a breakthrough. It could revolutionize the way internal structures were designed in mecha, providing a balance between strength and flexibility that hadn’t been achieved before.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Kovacs leaned back, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The Devil’s Mantis was coming together, piece by piece, and with this new alloy, it was on its way to becoming something truly formidable. The satisfaction of creation, of taking an idea from concept to reality, filled him with a sense of purpose that momentarily pushed aside the worries of the real world.

“Thanks, buddy,” he said to the duck, giving it a nod. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

The duck quacked one last time before disappearing, leaving Kovacs alone in the virtual workshop. He glanced at the time, realizing how late it had gotten, but the exhaustion that had weighed on him earlier was now replaced with a renewed determination.

Tomorrow’s meeting still loomed over him, but now he had something to fight for and protect.

***

Kovacs still had the license for the plasteel armor, which was a fortunate holdover from a previous project. Plasteel was a versatile material renowned for its balance between durability and weight, making it a prime choice for the armor of the Devil’s Mantis. As he stood in his virtual workshop, the schematic of the Mantis rotating slowly before him, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation. This was when the abstract would begin to take physical form—or at least its digital equivalent.

He brought up the plasteel in the design interface, watching as the material's properties loaded onto the screen. The virtual workshop rendered a three-dimensional model of the Mantis, now just a skeleton of its final form. Kovacs’ fingers danced through the air, manipulating the model as he began to shape the armored shell.

“This is where it all comes together,” he murmured, half to himself and half to the empty workshop, now absent even of the virtual duck. He focused on the front of the Mantis, the sharp angles and sleek contours that would define its silhouette. The plasteel responded to his commands, forming around the internal structure like a second skin.

Kovacs knew that the armor had to do more than look imposing; it had to serve multiple functions. Of course, it needed to provide protection, but it also had to minimize weight to maintain the Mantis’s speed and agility. The armor’s design also needed to facilitate heat dissipation, particularly around the high-energy components, to prevent overheating during extended operations.

He started with the chest plate, reinforcing the core where the Mantis’s power plant would be housed. The plasteel flowed into place, solidifying into a protective barrier that was both sleek and resilient. Kovacs adjusted the thickness, balancing the need for protection against the imperative to keep the mecha light. He added venting channels, ensuring heat could escape efficiently without compromising the armor’s integrity.

Next, he moved to the limbs, shaping the armor to allow maximum range of motion. The joints were crucial; any restriction could spell disaster in the field. Kovacs designed segmented plating that would overlap, offering continuous protection while allowing the Mantis to move with fluidity. He added extra reinforcement around the shoulder and knee joints, areas that would bear the brunt of impacts during high-speed maneuvers.

As he worked, Kovacs found himself lost in the process, the world outside the workshop fading into the background. The pain in his hip and the looming threat of tomorrow’s meeting seemed distant now. In this space, it was just him and the Mantis and the vision he was bringing to life.

He paused momentarily, taking a step back to assess the work. The Devil’s Mantis was beginning to take shape, its form more menacing and refined with each adjustment. The plasteel armor gleamed under the virtual lights, a stark contrast to the industrial setting of the workshop. It looked almost predatory, a machine built for speed and survival in the harshest conditions.

Kovacs reached out to touch the model, his hand passing through the holographic surface, but in his mind, he could almost feel the cold, smooth surface of the plasteel.

This was more than just a design; it was a manifestation of his ideas, skills, and determination to push the boundaries of what was possible.

“This armor is going to be the backbone of the Mantis,” he said as if the virtual duck were still present to hear him. “It needs to be perfect.”

He continued to fine-tune the details, adding adaptive camouflage capabilities to the armor’s paint—an experimental feature that would allow the Mantis to blend into its surroundings, making it harder for enemies to target. Although the technology was still in its infancy two hundred years ago, with the right adjustments and a little modern knowledge, he could make it work.

Finally, he moved on to the cockpit, designing the protective shell to encase the pilot. This was perhaps the most critical part of the armor, as the pilot’s life depended on its strength. He reinforced the cockpit with multiple layers of plasteel, each designed to absorb and deflect different types of impact. He integrated a transparent alloy for the canopy, providing the pilot visibility without compromising safety.

Kovacs stood back again, a sense of satisfaction settling over him as he admired the nearly completed design. The Devil’s Mantis was no longer just a concept; it was a machine ready to take on the challenges of the battlefield.

And it was his. Kovacs pulled up the specifications for the mecha.

Idelomantis Diabolucum (Devil's Mantis)

Basic Specifications

Weight: 30 tons

Chassis: Bipedal

Movement:

Walking: 54 mph

Running: 72 mph

Jumping; 150 feet

Engine: 150 Kw Fusion Engine

Heat Sinks: 4 additional heat sinks (10 total)

Armor: (6.5 tons) Plasteel

Components Breakdown

Internal Structure: 3 tons

Engine: 5 tons

Gyro: 2 tons

Cockpit: 3 tons

Jump Jets: 2.5 tons

Armor: 6.5 tons

Weapons and Equipment: 8 tons

Weapons Loadout

3 flame throwers: 3 tons

1 Missile Launcher with Incendiary Rounds: 2 tons

2 Machine Gun with Ammo: 1/2 ton

Heat Sinks: 2 tons (4 additional heat sinks)