Steam rolled off the Ironbelle's exterior like morning mist, its combative measures reverting back into its metal shell. The machine indeed had been built to withstand, and yet, there would always be room for improvement.
It hummed in delight at their victory.
Within the mecha, Curly sighed deeply. For such a small creature, it took the combined force of multiple attackers just to take it down.
Even as it melted away into oblivion, the lingering smell of rotting meat still lingered within the ice and snow.

For a moment, there is respite. But it is quickly snuffed when Curly catches the sight of arisen corpses from the corner of his eyes.
With a bland expression of disgust, he watches as the undead tear away at flesh and bone while attacking the giant beast. A hard watch indeed, but one that was difficult to look away from. Grimacing, the head of the Mecha tilted away–even machinery found necromancy barbaric. But his silent judgement faded at Rachel’s question, reminding him of the mission at hand. “Yeah, all fine ‘ere. I'll be right once this is done though.” Curly replied, followed by positive humming from the Ironbelle. 
He doesn’t respond to Axol’s question regarding the reanimation of the dead, but the head of the Ironbelle does turn in Andrea’s direction, curious more than anything, not too dissimilar from its co-creator.
 
As the team moved as one unit, they reached the outpost. But any hopes of finding life seemed slim to none now.
Signs of a struggle littered the area–not from a fight between man and beast, but between man and man. Corpses of fallen humankind are scattered about, death now becoming a familiar presence in this mission.
But there is no time for grief, as Axol sprints with surprising haste to grab old liquor from one of the corpses and chugs it down like a man dying of thirst. Again, there are no words from the pilot or his mech, but the air of judgement surrounding him spoke louder than any words could.

“...Let’s just... get this over with.” Curly spoke flatly, the bell of his mecha pushing through the snow and uneven terrain.
Despite the bodies around them, the broken and discarded tools and defences here and there, the one thing that felt truly oppressive to him was the barracks itself. The door slightly opened, revealing only the darkness… who knew what gruelling scene was hidden in there, maybe something was still inside. waiting.
It felt like insects were crawling beneath the skin of his left arm, making the veins bulge and throb. And yet, this reaction did not deter him.
It spurred him on.