The entire surface of the forge world of Gryphonne IV is encrusted with massive machine shops and cathedral-like manufactorums. Factories the size of cities clank and hiss, belching pollutants into the ravaged atmosphere as rank upon rank of lobotomized servitors and devout Techpriests toil ceaselessly to churn out a constant stream of munitions and tanks. The Titans of the Legio Gryphonicus, bipedal god-machines with the firepower to level fortresses, tower over the scurrying factotums that form the lifeblood of this eternal machine, dwarfed in their turn by mighty edifices raised to the glory of the Omnissiah. Day blurs into the night under the uncaring, soot-choked skies, the industrial landscape constantly ringing with the hymnals of eternal toil.
Welcome to the Industrial Zone. Who knows what they make here? It's unclear. The waste product is acrid and luminous, like a Coldplay album.
"I've beaten this game and I still don't know what's manufactured here, or what this company's business model is. It's just there, and by God is it busy doing... something."
—Ross's Game Dungeon: Contraption Zack
"This is the Engine Room, but what kind of Engine Room is it? I have absolutely no idea!"
—Mario Party on Luigi's Engine Room
