Burnside Orbitron

About the car

Burnside’s most luxurious threat to national security. Made for the future. And the fallout.

“Some cars roll coal. The 1952 Orbitron rolls Cobalt-60.”
The future doesn’t smoke — it glows.
Irradiate the sidewalk. Assert dominance.
Because nothing says power like moderate radiation exposure.

In the golden twilight of the postwar boom, Burnside set out to prove one thing: there was no such thing as “too much.” The Orbitron was not just a car — it was a statement. Preferably parked in front of your Mid-Century Modern bungalow with the full chrome package, four-tone paint, and a display plaque reminding your neighbors that they lost the bidding war.

With the spoils of war funding consumer dreams, Burnside engineers were handed a blank check, a crate of declassified submarine blueprints, and a bucket of enriched uranium “for testing purposes.” What they built was the most audacious rolling appliance of atomic America: a 6.5-ton glass-domed parade float for your family, your ego, and your anxieties about communism.

Two models. One apocalypse.

Standard. Fueled by a 10.4-liter water-cooled V20 originally designed for offshore oil rigs and coastal artillery turrets, the base model delivers 2,200 peak horsepower and 4,150 Nm of torque, ensuring the Orbitron moves with the urgency of a collapsing empire.

Premium. The prestige trim swaps gasoline for glowing ambition. Powered by a compact nuclear turbine, it outputs a serene 1,700 hp with a low-end torque curve measured in megajoules. It makes very little noise, but does emit a low hum and a faint greenish glow at night. Do not store pets in the trunk.

The Orbitron was not built for speed. It was built for spectacle. For the kind of people who believed the future had fins, that every driveway should glow faintly at night, and that safety was someone else’s problem.

About the mod

The mod is work-in-progress - currently in the modeling/texturing stage.