Wayne dreamed of piloting a thirty-foot-tall walking robot that was closer to a battle-tank than anything else.
They were called Walkers. They were armed with laser cannons, rockets, missiles, and heavy kinetic weapons more similar to artillery pieces than guns, and everything that went with that. Unfortunately, he had been declined military service. His only avenue left to become a Walker Pilot was to make it happen all on his own. Under his own power. With his own hands. Literally. Working his fingers to the bone, saving all he could, and digging through junkyards and salvage pits, Wayne made it happen. One part at a time. He was now, finally, at the starting line. Having built a very rough Walker that he had cobbled together himself, he scavenged a few weapons that were perfect for starting out and had just enough money to afford ammunition. His long-term dream was just about to start. Perhaps he would even form his own Walker Mercenary company and hire people to work with him. Except just as he finally moves forward, his home world is about to take a gigantic leap backward—with Wayne at the center of it all, without ever truly realizing it.
