*the blackened sky loomed over Striker, clouds whiriling violently above. He watched distantly as four sentinals flew viggorously towards the machine city. He sighed deeply , turning around to his ship...or what once was it...giant golden letters glowed through the shadow...
THE GOLDEN REIGN
He had been living out in the barren desert of the world for a long time now, living on once was his home...exactly one year ago...when a trechorouse zionite had oardered a ship to EMP his own. His ship had plummited down, down, down into the middle of nomansland, taking his best friend, and partner Sartec with it. He had sparsly, just when he needed to get away, or hide. He had gotten the matrix program running, allowing him to jack in at will. He looked at the old ship parts he had gotten thanks to a tip from Venmm. It was time...time for the Reign to rise again. he murmered to himself,
"This ones for you Roqintin..."