World of Cogheim / Juggernaut
Strider Class
The widest hull on the disc — low-slung instead of tall, spread out instead of stacked up. A nuclear reactor glows openly at its core, not hidden away. Every armor plate has taken a hit and kept moving.
Where Blackjack rises vertical and Grindwalker splits into twin hulls, Juggernaut spreads horizontally — the widest silhouette on the disc, low and dense, a grid of forge stacks and reactor chimneys instead of one dominant tower. It doesn't look fast. It isn't supposed to.
The track system underneath is the actual foundation, not just locomotion — individual bogies the size of a house, laid out wide enough that the total track width matches the city's full footprint. The tracks don't just move the city. They carry it.
Most fortress-cities would bury their power source. Juggernaut doesn't. The nuclear smelting reactor sits visible at the city's core — red-orange light bleeding through ventilation grates, columns of white-amber steam rising from multiple vents, heat shimmer bending the air above it. This isn't a design oversight. It's the point.
The armor tells the same story from the outside. Overlapping iron plates, each roughly three meters across, riveted at the edges, aged to a copper-brown. Many of them carry old battle damage that was absorbed and repaired — welds over welds, patches over patches. This is a hull that's been hit and kept walking, and it doesn't hide that either.
Juggernaut's interior spec is coded and passing tests already — three strata, stacked bottom to top, connected by three primary industrial lift shafts plus stair networks throughout.
Commander, Weapons Master, and a Fire Crew of at least three — the biggest minimum weapon-crew requirement of any class.
Juggernaut's own airfield architecture — platforms that fold away rather than sitting permanently exposed, matching a hull built around armor first.
Every Strider's highest, always-unmarked point. On Juggernaut, it's built into the reactor's own chimney stack.
Everything above this line is real and locked. Everything below it is genuinely proposed, not promised.
A hull that's visibly survived real damage probably wears that history on purpose, not by accident — picture crew culture where a particularly bad patch job gets a name and a story the way Scavenger's do, except here it's not improvisation, it's proof the armor held. A wall near the Fire Crew's station lined with scorch-marked plates pulled off the hull after they'd done their job, kept instead of scrapped.
With the reactor sitting open and visible at the core, the walk from the armor decks up to command probably isn't a quiet one — heat, the low hum of the reactor, maybe a section where you can actually feel it through the floor before you're anywhere near the mid-level forges. A hull this proud of its own power source would want you to know you're walking past it, not just through it.
Speed, weak-spot damage profile, and full crew capacity will post here once they're actually locked and verified — not before.