World War Zero: Iron: Storm

The shockwave shattered the glass in the command deck. Outside, the world turned into a kaleidoscope of fire and iron. A Prussian Walker took a direct hit, its hydraulic legs buckling as it collapsed into a crater, venting high-pressure steam that cooked its crew instantly.

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. World War Zero: Iron Storm

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 shockwave shattered the glass in the command deck

"Hold the line," Thorne commanded, his voice raspy from inhaling coal dust. "If we break formation, the Prussian Walkers will tear the infantry to ribbons." But for every machine the Allies downed, two

"They’re deploying the ‘Cloud-Eaters’!" a lookout yelled.

Captain Elias Thorne stood in the conning tower of the Leviathan-7 , a landship the size of a city block. It moved on sixteen massive iron treads, churning the French mud into a black slurry. Around him, the "Storm" was literal. It wasn’t rain that fell from the soot-choked sky, but a constant drizzle of oil and shrapnel from the aerial dreadnoughts clashing above the clouds.