Grammer's sky was once a canvas studded with stars in children's eyes, until the shadow of the global locust plague crushed everything.
"Can't forget..."
The cold mecha stood next to the corpses of his parents, and the unknown liquid dripping from the metal joints was like the residual saliva after sucking blood.
"Dad... Mom..."
The moment hatred gnawed at his throat, his eyes suddenly burned, and scarlet magatama swirled under his eyes.
He and his young brother lived in the ruins of the ruins.
The mecha has become his most piercing nightmare, the insect swarm is the sharp blade hanging above his head, and in those eyes, as the hatred grows, they weave a web of revenge bit by bit.
"Grammer's iron, Zerg's wings, whatever you owe me, I will get it back bit by bit with my own hands."
Until that day...
"My name is AR_26710, and I am... Grammer's reformer."
