[Apocalypse] [Mecha] [Cyberpunk] [Cthulhu] [Evolution]
I am Zero Seven, slave number zero seven.
In the rust-covered graveyard of the apocalypse, they called me a failed experiment, a piece of trash. The "Flame of Prometheus" beating in my chest was originally a defective product abandoned by the tech conglomerates, but as I teetered on the brink of death, it tore open a crack in evolution.
Gears turned flesh and blood. Hydraulic tubes replaced veins. The wreckage of discarded mechs became my bones, and the core of an alien battleship became my heart.
I devour all machinery, from rusted screws to weapons of war that blot out the sky, from the conglomerates' modified assassins to the steel vanguard of extraterrestrial civilizations. Every metallic shriek as I tear it apart is another step on my climb from the scrap heap to the altar of the gods.
When the shadows of alien harvest fleets loom over civilization, when the whole world kneels and begs for mercy before the steel tide, I stand atop the mechanical graveyard, starlight gathering at my fingertips.
"You harvest lives?"
I rip out my enemy's reactor, feeling energy explode through my body as my metal bones vibrate with exhilaration.
"And I devour steel."
