Through his periscope, Thorne saw them: the Stahlsturms . They were four-legged mechanical monstrosities, three stories tall, emerging from the chemical fog like prehistoric beasts made of riveted steel. Their heat-rays flickered, turning the raindrops into steam before they could hit the ground. The Storm Breaks
Across the ridge, the remaining Allied landships saw the signal. They didn't retreat. Instead, they steered into one another, interlocking their iron plating and welding their hulls together in a desperate, makeshift wall of steel. World War Zero: Iron Storm
By 1912, the European front was a mangled graveyard of scorched earth and twisted metal. They called the latest offensive the . The Vanguard of Rust Through his periscope, Thorne saw them: the Stahlsturms
Thorne looked at the map. If they fell here, the road to Paris was open. He looked at his men—men of soot and grease, more machine than human after years of cybernetic "repairs" forced by the scarcity of medicine. The Storm Breaks Across the ridge, the remaining
But for every machine the Allies downed, two more marched out of the haze. This was the horror of the Iron Storm: an endless assembly line of destruction.