Interstellar debris crashed into the ancient land where fur and blood drank blood, and alien predators' mechas trampled on the peace of primitive tribes. The core of the imperial mecha that was supposed to charge on the interstellar battlefield accidentally bound a tribal youth with a stone spear wrapped in animal skin.
Bronze tripods collide with mechas, stone spears pierce energy shields, and wood is burned to roast alien parts. This collision between ancient times and the stars is full of laughter from beginning to end. No star map navigation? Relying on the old priest of the stargazing tribe to guide the way; lack of energy supplies? Use volcanic lava to fill "diesel"; the enemy has a star fleet? Gather hundreds of tribes to form the "Original Mecha Alliance".
With a rusty mecha core, he taught the primitive man how to operate energy weapons while complaining that his "teammates" were too tossing. The alien plunderer wanted to plunder ancient resources, so he decided to take his tribal brothers with him, use the most primitive wisdom to control the most advanced mechas, and carve out an interstellar resistance path belonging to primitive people in the ancient land where the sky is full of war. This hard-core war of resistance across time and space has no rules, only the passion and ridicule of "just do it and it's over".
