City Kaiju is being destroyed. It’s being rebuilt. It’s being destroyed again by giant-ass and not-so-giant-ass beasts. It’s being protected by bionic commados, who are, well, getting OK at not becoming a red mess of gruel on your city streets. That’s a good thing! Right? You are a poor burnout bike messenger, trying to survive, confused by it all. Feeling dumb and lost and alone, like, existentially, mostly because your roommate tells you daily that you are “dumb and lost and alone.” You have PTSD, but you all got PTSD. It’s just a thing. You all expect to die in the green flames of a plasma burst. Not a good thing! It hurts. But you come together on a fateful night, a night in which none of you believe you have a demon’s chance at the Pearly Gates. There’s something special about this night. Perhaps it’s the moon? And who is this Evil Bill? Goddamn, you hate this place.