The Legendary Mechanic Box Novels & Stories

It looked undeniably powerful, a relic of a forgotten battle. White block letters, almost completely faded into its rusty armour, spelled out the name of this magnificent mech. Spartan. "Do you see the factory doors?"

Her tongue flicked out as she advanced. Ilyria put her hand over the Mogul’s. “We have to be quick,” she said, “There’s a trick to this.” She had to pull the box from the Mogul’s hand and he looked bereft but there was no time to explain. She slid open a panel, threaded the gear chain. Then she hesitated, unsure if her feeling had been right. Holding her breath, she used the gear chain to wind the gear. The mechanism turned inside the box, presenting the next open gear to be threaded. It worked. She finished the turns quickly and closed the box which now ticked regularly. Ilyria stood, triumphantly holding out the box. “We’ve …”

Sicily and its alleys were printed in her mind like G****e maps. Finally the car came to a deserted area. No way could she make it to her secured place. Reaching a dead end Myra pulled the brake harshly and looked behind. Two cars stood there. Two more arrived from the other side also. The guard at the back seat asked to open the fire but Myra stood still and waited for some time. A blue dot appeared on the screen of the device kept in the car. She looked at the screen and smiled. Another blue dot appeared. After a few seconds the increasing number of blue dots was enough to bring a full smile on her face.

Throughout the past few days, the Rank 9 Undead Skeletal Heavy Swordsman and the Rank 9 Mad Ox Dark Race had been feeding it with lines about how overwhelming Lucas was. They claimed that Lucas the Demon owned two of the Ten Legendary Weapons, the Dragon Slaying Saber and the Sky Tower! They even claimed that the Apocalyptic Legion owned by Lucas was terrifying. 'What is it about Biggy the Godly Boxer, White Doll Steel Limbs, Scarlet the Polar Ice…' From what the Rank 9 Undead Skeletal Heavy Swordsman and Rank 9 Mad Ox Dark Race had said, it seemed like Lucas possessed a unique ability that only he had access to.

The attendees that attempted to have a go with the box tried to pull it with force, use a magnifying glass to examine the gaps, use wires, and even machines. However, the box was like a black iron stone that even knives of the cutting machine shattered without even breaking the box. Time passed, and it was already past five in the afternoon. The expo was to end in half an hour. After observing it for one whole, Charmine finally figured out what the problem was. This black iron stone was a piece of machinery one of the four uncles had once told her.

“Okay, that’s insane. I mean, what sort of self-respected mechanic would ever agree to make such dangerous alterations to a car?” “Thankfully, Michael managed to find, probably, the one and only mechanic in the region that possesses a strong sense of morality and a heavily guilty conscience,” he remarked. “After our trip to the junkyard, we were directed to Matteo’s Mechanic shop. The guy looked guilty prior to us even asking him any questions.” I couldn’t imagine trying to live with that kind of guilt. But why would this guy have agreed to do something so reckless if he already knew that it was wrong?

The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting, anticipating. I took a moment to steady myself, my fingers trembling as I began to punch in the numbers: 2-3-1-7-8-4. There was a soft click and a sigh from the mechanism, and then the door slowly creaked open. Inside, amidst a layer of velvety cushion, lay a small ornate box, its surface a dance of dark woods and ivory inlays. It was beautifully old-fashioned, a relic from another era. Without thinking, my hands reached out, drawing the box into my grasp. The intricate carvings on its surface depicted wolves dancing under a moonlit sky, their forms filled with grace and power.

After that, he took out four intricately made little boxes and gave them to the four girls. The small boxes were only the size of a thumb. The material seemed nothing like wood or metal. It had a small little hole the size of a needle in front. "Leon, what is this?" Iris and the others were incredibly curious at the sight of the boxes. "This is a mechanical box. Two needles inside each box have had Deadly Veratrum poison applied to them. They are fatal if they stab anyone," Leon explained.

All of it faded into a soft hissing white noise as he stared at the wooden box on the ground. It was wooden. It didn’t belong. This was a metal salvage facility. Of course non-metal things turned up here occasionally. Bicycles and lawnmowers with rubber tires, metal folding chairs with cushions, metal-frame futons with mattresses. But this polished, dark wooden box looked incongruous surrounded by piles of bent and twisted scrap metal. Not caring at all if anyone noticed, Bobby knelt and . . . reverently? . . . picked up the box. He sat back on the edge of the metal desk, settling himself at a comfortable angle, and examined it.

After letting the dial go, the striking golden gears started to move slowly. “It's my first time opening it since grandpa died. But I believe it would take a while for it to open.” The slow mechanical sounds coming from the safe box excited Saxon Hale. The mysterious heirloom that his teacher cherished so much is now in front of him. He has waited for a long time to get a hold of this metal box.