The Confederation

Tin Men Mk 2

All hope was now gone.

Magmanon’s mighty cannons had long since fallen silent, and yet the enemy still poured over the battlements. From building to building, bunker to bunker, house to house, every soldier fought to their last breath, tearing flesh from their foes with their teeth as they fell to the ground and were torn to shreds.

These creatures—the Asylumists—had swarmed across the land and laid waste to all in their path.

This was the final stand of the Coalition.

Every remaining weapon had been distributed and final orders given. To the last, they would fight.

The enemy tore through the third massive wall, its cannons falling from the structure into the burning debris below in a shower of fire and smoke. All that stood between them and the city itself now were a few thousand soldiers.

A lone, solitary pebble against the incoming sea.

The sky above flashed with battle as jets and carriers spun through the dark clouds. Artillery split the sky, sending round after round into the sprawling mass approaching—to no avail.

This was it. Nothing more could be done.

Ironically, it was not at the hands of their mortal enemies, the Guardians, that their empire was to crumble. It was to these frenzied monsters of nightmare.

As the wave reached the soldiers, dug in and ready to die for their people, there came a mighty roar and an explosion of smoke.

The noise and smoke did not come from their enemy, however.

It came from behind them.

Staggering and beaten soldiers spun around to see a field of red eyes light up within the smog.

Then, suddenly, they emerged.

The Tin Men.

The answer to every soul’s prayers trudged forward. Before them, outstretched and glowing hot, the Hellbore Cannons leapt to life in a destructive chorus.

Merciless and fearless, the machines thudded over the trenches and into the oncoming enemy, laying waste to their foe as if they were death itself.

Where the cannons pointed, the enemy fell.

The Tin Men, a gift from the almighty Council, serve today as the Confederation’s main infantry unit. They serve without question, have no need for food or rest, and can be easily replaced. Often accompanied by the Gritguard, they take the casualties that the Confederation could not endure.

Against enemies that seem to possess endless numbers, the Tin Men even the odds with disposable infantry.

Constructed as simply as possible and powered by a highly advanced Fizion Generator, the Tin Men are deemed of “less importance” than a soldier’s life. Yet their formidable firepower and ability to calculate battlefield tactics faster than many organic lifeforms make them an exceptionally effective infantry unit.

They are built to fight.

Built to die.

And built to be replaced.