One thing I find interesting is the cyclical nature of humanity, of repeating pasts and histories, of being unable to move forward somehow even as time passes, at the way we always seem to be causing our own destruction even when what we truly desire is peace. Injustice is something that has persisted throughout human history, and it is something that seem as though it will always be prevalent.

So, that closure thing I mentioned—what I’ve always needed to heal, in my experience, is the community of my friends. In some ways this story is a love/thank-you note to some friends who’ve gotten me through some rough times.

Almost as soon as I sat down to start writing, I realized what mecha stories from Gundam to Pacific Rim have already demonstrated—the only reason a civilization would have to create a superweapon in the shape of an enormous humanoid figure is shock and awe.

At the beginning of the pandemic, I found myself writing a lot of stories that focused on the theme of sacrifice. In speculative media, particularly, there are a lot of stories that portray martyrdom or sacrifice as a noble or necessary cause.

The germ of this story was born in the 2021 stage of the pandemic, while watching a panel on lost Doctor Who episodes during a virtual version of our local Doctor Who convention, CONsole Room. I wanted to write about the way that seemingly frivolous things like fandom still persist.